Scorned Justice: The Men of Texas Rangers Series #3 (Men of the Texas Rangers)

by Margaret Daley

  Brody stood back, lounging against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. Watching.

  Johnston whispered to his lawyer. The older man frowned, then said to the agent, “He can testify on two of the charges but not the arson one.”

  Brody stepped forward. “It’s a package deal. Why wouldn’t he? He’ll have immunity.”

  Johnston pinned Brody with a hard glare. “Because I didn’t do it. I told you that. I don’t know anything about a fire. I’m a businessman. Not an arsonist.”

  “So if Alexandrov told you to set the pasture on fire, you would have refused.”

  Johnston jumped to his feet. “He didn’t ask. The fire wasn’t our doing.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Johnston,” the agent said in a steely voice.

  The lawyer put his hand on Johnston’s arm and pulled him down into the seat. “The deal needs to be amended. Believe me, it’s to my client’s advantage to take this deal as is, but he insists he didn’t have anything to do with the fire. Why would he lie about something like that?”

  “Very well, Mr. Johnston. We will drop the arson charge, but if I find out that you were involved, you’ll be prosecuted to the full extent of the law on that crime.”

  Johnston looked right at Brody. “I’m not guilty. Someone else set the fire.”

  The man’s body language reinforced his words concerning the fire. So if it wasn’t Johnston doing the bidding of Alexandrov, then who set the fire and why? The direction Brody’s thoughts were going sent a white-hot poker through his gut.

  Rebecca may still be in danger.

  At the end of the day Rebecca prowled her office, waiting for Brody to arrive. Here it was only eight hours since she’d seen him, and she’d had to phone him to come over. Laura never called her. Something was wrong. At lunch, when she’d tried Laura’s house line as well as her cellphone again, she started calling people who were Laura’s friends, neighbors, and family. No one had seen her since Saturday.

  This isn’t like Laura.

  Her nerves tightened. Pinpricks danced on them. Something was wrong.

  Someone knocked on her door. She quickly walked over and opened it. Relief fluttered through her at the sight of Brody. “I’m so glad you could come.”

  “What’s this about Laura being missing?”

  Rebecca whirled around and crossed to her cabinet to get her purse. “We’re going to her duplex. She didn’t come to work or call in sick.”

  “People have been known to forget to do that.”

  “Not Laura. She’s in trouble. I know where she keeps her spare key. With her landlady. She lives in the other side of the duplex. Let’s go. You can follow me to Laura’s.”

  “Why do you think she’s in trouble?” Brody asked as Rebecca locked her office door.

  “Because Laura is the most conscientious worker I’ve ever had. Because she’s a good friend and I know her. She would never do something that would make me worry, especially with all that has been happening.”

  “What if she impulsively went to Las Vegas to marry this new man in her life?”

  “She isn’t impulsive, and she would have had me vet him before she did something like that.”

  “You make falling in love sound like a rational, logical decision. Sometimes it isn’t.”

  “Yes, it is. If you let your emotions take over, you can get hurt.” If she said that often enough, she would believe it and not get hurt by letting herself fall for Brody.

  “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Something might be wrong.” He headed for his SUV. “I’ll follow you.”

  Twenty minutes later Rebecca parked her car in Laura’s driveway with Brody parking in the street. She strode to Laura’s door and rang the bell. Several times. Finally, when her friend didn’t answer, she skirted around Brody and headed toward the landlady’s side of the duplex.

  “Mrs. Norris, I hope you’re doing okay.”

  “I was until you called and told me about Laura. I hope she’s all right.”

  “I’m afraid something might be wrong and would like to check out her place to make sure she isn’t unconscious in her house.”

  “Oh, my dear. I thought you would have found her by now.” Moving slowly on her cane, Mrs. Norris hobbled toward Laura’s front door, giving Brody a once-over. “You really do think something is wrong. You brought your own Texas Ranger.”

  “He’s a friend.”

  Brody nodded. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Ranger Calhoun. May I open the door?”

  “Sure, young man. It sticks some of the time.”

  Brody inserted the key in the lock and turned it, then pushed into the small foyer of the duplex. Holding up his hand, he said, “You two wait out here. Let me do a walk-through.”

  The fact that he wanted to check Laura’s house first heightened Rebecca’s fears. What if Laura had slipped and fallen in the bathroom, hitting her head? Or what if someone had broken in and . . .

  Brody returned, scowling. “Mrs. Norris, thank you for letting us in. You never saw Laura leave?”

  “No. I saw her young man come to see her Saturday night, and she must have let him in because he went into the house. When I went to bed, he hadn’t left yet. But his car was gone when I got up early Sunday.”

  “When?”

  “Four in the morning.”

  Rebecca’s heartbeat accelerated. She balled her hands so tightly her fingernails dug into her palms. Brody was questioning the landlady as if a crime had been committed.

  “When did you go to bed?” Brody stepped out of the house and started walking the older woman toward her side of the house.

  “About nine. He came right after the local news was over at six thirty.”

  “I’m going to keep the key for now. I’ll return it later.”

  Mrs. Norris’s lips pursed together. “What has happened to Laura? I’ve watched a lot of crime shows and can take the truth.”

  “I don’t know what’s happened. She isn’t here.” Brody waited until the woman had trudged into her house and closed the door before turning to face Rebecca. “I want you to walk through the house with me. I think something bad has happened to Laura. Nothing is obvious. Just a gut feeling. I want your take on it.”

  She wasn’t consoled by the fact that Brody wasn’t sure about a crime having been committed or the lack of obvious evidence. Brody had been a law officer for over fifteen years. His instincts were good, from all she’d seen and heard about him.

  As she approached the open front door, he peered down at her, quickly veiling the sadness in his eyes. But it had been there. Hesitating, she shoved her hand through her hair and finally hooked some strands behind her ear.

  “You don’t have to go inside.”

  “I’m going inside. Laura is a good friend. She has been an invaluable law clerk.” Rebecca took a step into the foyer.

  Nothing was out of place that she could see from that vantage point, but then, all she glimpsed was the living room to the left—neat as usual. Brody moved past her, indicating that she follow.

  When she entered the dining room, she saw the table set for a dinner for two. She’d known that Laura was fixing a meal for Jim on Saturday night. But the dishes and utensils were clean. The roses in the centerpiece were beginning to wilt, the only evidence of imperfection in the scene before her.

  “They never ate dinner Saturday,” she murmured, the tightness about her chest beginning to build again.

  “It doesn’t appear so. C’mon. I want to show you the kitchen and the bedroom.” Brody tugged her toward the entrance to the kitchen.

  When she stopped a foot inside the kitchen, she knew that something was very wrong. She walked slowly around, peeking into pans on the stove filled with partially cooked food, the burners off. A half-made salad, the lettuce wilted, sat in a large red bowl on the counter, with a chopping board next to it. A knife and a cucumber, sliced through about a third of the way, lay on the chopping board.

  Using the edge of a towel, she opened the oven
and found a roast in a deep pan, not totally cooked, starting to smell rancid. Closing the door immediately, she whirled around. “What happened here?”

  “That’s a good question. I want you to look at the bedroom. Then I’m calling Charlie.”

  As Rebecca approached the room, the clamoring of her heartbeat filled her with dread. Afraid to go inside, she slowed her pace. There was no body, but something cautioned her about looking inside. Cold burrowed into her bones.

  She stepped into the entrance and couldn’t go any further. She didn’t need to enter. She saw what Brody wanted her to see. A brand new dress of turquoise and white, with the tags still on it, was lying on the pink and green bedspread. Next to it was white lacy lingerie. Three-inch white high heels lay on the floor.

  Rebecca backed out of the room, pivoted, and hurried to the front door and out of the duplex. Gasping for air, she bent over and sucked in what oxygen-rich breaths she could. The image of the clothes Laura was probably going to wear on Saturday night flashed in and out of her mind like a strobe light.

  Brody put his hand on her back. “I called Charlie. He’ll be here soon.”

  She straightened. “Something has happened to her. And it’s not good.” Goosebumps snaked down her spine.

  “Let’s sit in the car and wait.” With his touch at the small of her back, he escorted her toward the SUV and waited until she was settled in the passenger seat before going to his side and getting in.

  “Did you see any signs of a forced entry?”

  “No. But Charlie and his forensic team can go through the place.”

  Rebecca turned toward him, her attention zooming in on Laura’s closed front door. “So she let the person in.”

  “Her car isn’t here.”

  “Then she left everything here and went somewhere else. Why?”

  “No, remember what Mrs. Norris said. Her date came and she let him inside. What time was he supposed to arrive?”

  “Seven.” She could still hear the excitement in Laura’s voice about the date she was going to have with Jim. She loved to cook, and she was going to prepare him a special meal. She hadn’t heard her friend that excited about a man in a long time.

  “Then he was early, or at least someone Mrs. Norris thought was her date came around six thirty.”

  “It may not have been Jim.”

  “But the man who came stayed at least until after Mrs. Norris went to bed at nine. I think it was probably him. Besides, she never saw anyone else.”

  “What if it was Jim, and they did go somewhere?”

  “From what you tell me about Laura, she wouldn’t be gone this long without at least letting you know she wouldn’t be at work today. Unless something was wrong and she couldn’t call.”

  Brody said aloud the words she’d been thinking. “Then why is her car gone?”

  “They drove somewhere in separate cars? But that can’t be right. Why did she have the meal almost prepared and they never ate it?” Pain throbbed against her skull. “None of this makes sense.”

  “Not yet. I’ll have Charlie put a BOLO out on Laura’s car. Maybe we’ll know more when we find it.”

  What if Laura is in it—dead? What if her car is never found? Laura is never found? Question after bleak question rolled through her mind like tumbleweeds across the ground.

  “What is this Jim’s last name?” Brody asked, cutting into the awful place where Rebecca’a mind was quickly going.

  “What?” She shook the questions she couldn’t answer from her thoughts.

  “Jim’s last name?”

  “I don’t know. She never told me. I never thought to ask. I’d been so preoccupied with all that was going on, I didn’t ask the questions I usually would.”

  “I’ll talk with Mrs. Norris after I take you back to the ranch. I’ll have an officer follow us in your car.”

  “No. I’m staying, and I’ll go with you to talk to her. I know her, but mostly I know Laura. I might be able to help you when you talk to Mrs. Norris.”

  His gaze probed her as though weighing his options for how to reply to her.

  “I’m not leaving. This is my friend.”

  “Fine. But after that I’m taking you home.”

  “I’ll drive myself.” She squared her shoulders, lifting her chin.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’d feel better if you let me drive.”

  “Are you in your protective mode again?”

  “Yes. This may not be connected to you, but until we know . . . After all that has occurred, I don’t want to take a chance with your safety.”

  “Why would Alexandrov go after Laura? It doesn’t make sense. At the moment, I’m the least of his worries. I’m not involved in his case. It’s federal.”

  “Maybe some warped sense of revenge. Whatever it is, it’s better to be cautious.”

  “Fine,” she clipped out, hating the sense that she was the one who was in prison.

  “Good.” Brody peered behind his car. “Charlie has arrived.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Norris, for talking with us. I just have a few more questions.” Brody sat in a chair across from the older woman, who had arranged her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck and had put on a different smock—bright yellow.

  Rebecca stood behind Brody, her nerve endings jangling. She gripped the back of the chair to keep from pacing.

  “Anything I can do to help Laura. I suspected you’d want to ask me a few questions.”

  “Why is that, ma’am?” Brody removed his cowboy hat and set it on the floor beside his chair.

  “More police officers have arrived. That means the possibility of foul play. Y’all don’t come in full force unless you have a good reason.”

  “You’re very astute. I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Yes, indeed. I know what’s going on around here.”

  “Can you describe the man?” Brody took out his pad and pen.

  As Mrs. Norris tapped her chin and stared off into space, Rebecca tried to remember anything that Laura had said about Jim. “Laura told me he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen—blue.”

  Mrs. Norris chuckled. “He ain’t bad-looking either. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses he was wearing, but he had a strong jawline and when he smiled at Laura, two dimples appeared in his cheeks. His hair was blond and I think kinda long, but his cowboy hat covered most of it.”

  “This is good. How tall is he?”

  Rubbing her chin, Mrs. Norris frowned. “Maybe half a foot taller than Laura.”

  “That’s about five ten, five eleven,” Rebecca interjected.

  Laura’s neighbor snapped her fingers. “Yep. That’s about right.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  “Jeans, black cowboy boots, and a white long-sleeved shirt. He had a fancy silver buckle on his belt. Couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but definitely silver.”

  “How about the car he was driving?” Brody glanced back at Rebecca, his look silently asking her if she was all right.

  She nodded.

  “I’m glad you ask. Now, cars I know. My husband loved different cars and was always going on and on about this car and that one. When he died a few years back, I continued it as a way to keep connected to him.”

  “What kind was it?”

  “It was a blue Malibu, 2006 or 2007.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m positive. Like I said, I know my cars. Laura drives a red Camaro. I even know her license number. B32 WHL.”

  Brody sat forward. “Did you see the license of the Malibu?”

  Mrs. Norris’s shoulders sagged. “Sorry, I couldn’t. I did notice a pine cone freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.”

  Rebecca rounded the chair Brody sat in, restlessness storming through her. “Mrs. Norris, did you hear anything unusual from the time the man came to visit to the time you went to bed? Like the radio or TV turned up too loud.”

  “Ah, like to cover up a crime?”


  “Anything out of the ordinary.” She tried to dismiss the image of Laura fighting off an attacker and prayed she was overreacting.

  “No,” the older woman began, then paused and frowned. “Come to think of it, not long after the man arrived I heard a crash like Laura dropped a plate or something like that on the tile floor. That really isn’t that unusual necessarily, but otherwise it was very quiet.” She ran her hand along her chin. “Which is kinda unusual. The walls between the units aren’t the thickest. I can usually hear her TV going, but Laura is very good at keeping it down. I do the same for her. She is the ideal tenant.” Her eyes watered, and she blinked as a tear rolled down her wrinkled face.

  Brody finished writing something on his pad. “The sound came from the kitchen?”

  “Yes.”

  Brody threw Rebecca a glance before returning his attention to Mrs. Norris. “Anything else?”

  The neighbor thought for a moment, then shook her head.

  Brody rose. “Thank you for your help. If you remember something later, you can reach me here.” He withdrew a card and gave it to the woman. “Don’t get up. We can find our own way out.”

  Putting down the footrest on her lounge chair, Mrs. Norris struggled to the edge and pushed off, using her cane to steady herself. “No way am I leaving my front door unlocked. But thank you kindly for thinking about me. I have a friend directly across the street that keeps a good eye out for the people around here. You might ask her if she saw anything.”

  “I will, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Norris pointed to a one-story, red brick house. “She isn’t home right now. Her car is gone. I can call you when she comes home.”

  “I appreciate that.” Brody waited until the landlady closed her door and the lock clicked into place before starting for his SUV. “I’m taking you home.”

  After she climbed into the passenger seat, Brody took out his phone and made a call while walking to the driver’s side.

  “Who did you call?” she asked as he got in.

  “Charlie. I told him to look and see if anything was broken in the kitchen.”

  “You think that’s important?”

  “Probably not. But you never know. If it was something like a glass or plate, that gives me an idea of how thin the walls are between the two units.”