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

by Margaret Daley

  Tory sat forward and took Thomas’s hand. “The reason I was late earlier is that—” she swallowed hard “—Hattie and I were in an accident. I was run off the road. The car crashed into a ditch. It wasn’t my fault but . . .” Her voice disappeared as though it were a wisp of smoke caught on the wind. She gulped and opened her mouth to say something, but instead pressed her lips together.

  “Is Hattie all right?” Thomas frowned.

  Tory nodded, looking down at their clasped hands.

  “I don’t care about the car. That can be fixed—just so everyone’s okay.”

  When her sister-in-law lifted her head, her eyes shone with tears.

  Rebecca waited a few heartbeats, her chest so tight she could hardly breathe. When Tory couldn’t continue, she said, “Thomas, Hattie and Tory picked up the girls from school, and they were coming here to surprise you.”

  Thomas turned his attention to Rebecca. “Are the girls hurt?”

  The urgency in his voice compelled Rebecca to finish this ordeal. “Aubrey is fine, but Kim has been kidnapped.” The words tumbled out of her mouth in such a hurry even she could hardly understand herself.

  But her brother got the gist of what she had said. Yanking his hand from Tory’s grasp, he flipped back the sheets and labored to sit up. “How long were you going to keep this from me? I’ve got to get out of here.”

  Rebecca and Tory stood at the same time and tried to stop Thomas from getting up. He resisted, pushing their hands away, then struggled to swing his broken leg, which was in a cast, off the bed. He couldn’t do it. He collapsed back onto the bed, groaning at the effort.

  Brody moved to Rebecca’s side. “Every effort is being made to find Kim. So far there hasn’t been a ransom demand, but if we get one, Rebecca has made arrangements with the bank to put together whatever money is needed. We’re on this, as are the local law enforcement agencies.”

  Thomas tried to change position and winced. “FBI?”

  “They have been informed, but I’m taking the lead on this. Since I know the area and what’s been going on, Sheriff Overstreet asked the Texas Rangers for help. Believe me, Kim is our top priority right now.”

  “What kinds of leads do you have?” Thomas closed his eyes, his face pallid and his hands twisted at his sides, attesting to the control he was trying to maintain.

  “A couple of promising ones. We’re tracking down the truck used. The license plates were found on a gravel road where the kidnapper waited for your car to pass on the highway. We discovered the truck was reported stolen earlier today. The man who owns the truck reported the theft to the San Antonio police around the time the kidnapping occurred.”

  “Could he be involved in any way? Covering his tracks?” Thomas reached out to take Tory’s hand.

  “No, he has an alibi, but we’ll look into his background to see if he might be an accomplice. I know you’ll say something if you remember anything about your accident, but I need you to concentrate on trying to remember.”

  Thomas frowned. “Is there a connection?”

  “I don’t know, but so many things have happened lately, and some of them are starting to tie together.”

  The furrows on Thomas’s forehead deepened. “You think someone is after me? First my accident and now Kim’s kidnapping?”

  The pressure in Rebecca’s chest increased. “No, we don’t think it’s you.” She shot Brody a narrow-eyed look. “I think the person is after me,” she whispered, her voice thready.

  “You? I thought Alexandrov had been taken care of.”

  “He was, and he may have been responsible for a few things that have happened, but not all of them. Several things have occurred lately that indicate there’s a totally different person involved.”

  Closing his eyes, Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ll be the first to know if anything comes to me. Right now it’s a blank. I was looking down at the calf carrying on in the gully. I felt a sting and started to slap the bug on my neck when everything went black.”

  “Bug? What bug? This is the first you’ve said anything about being stung.” Excitement lit Brody’s eyes and infused each word.

  “I’ve been stung by a wasp before. I never thought much of it. But a wasp sting wouldn’t cause me to black out.”

  “But someone shooting a dart gun at you might.”

  “How’s this going to help my daughter?”

  “I don’t know if it will, but it might. If someone drugged you and then set up that accident, that same person could be behind Kim’s kidnapping.”

  “I have to go home. I can’t stay here with my baby out there somewhere.” With a fierce determination to get up again, Thomas pushed himself up.

  Rebecca saw blood on his sheet where he’d been lying. She pressed the call button and said, “You’ve opened a wound. You aren’t going anywhere if I have to have you drugged to keep you here. We’re getting Kim back, but you have to take care of yourself. She will need you. There’s nothing you can do at the ranch.”

  The nurse came into the room, and Rebecca gestured toward her brother’s back. While the woman took a look at Thomas’s reopened wound, Rebecca said, “I’ll keep you informed about what’s going on every step of the way.”

  “So will I,” Brody added, as the nurse called for the doctor.

  “If y’all can step out of the room, we need to tend to Mr. Sinclair.”

  Rebecca kissed Thomas’s cheek. “We have to get back to the ranch. I love Kim like my own daughter. I’ll do everything I can to get her back and find out who is doing this to me and the people I’m close to. I’m so sorry.”

  Rebecca started to turn away before she cried in front of everyone when her brother grabbed her arm and stopped her. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what some maniac is doing to us.”

  She glanced back at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “I love you, Tommy.” He let go, and she hurried from the room, Brody and Tory following. He might not blame her, but she did.

  “I’m staying here tonight. Thomas will need me. I’ll be okay with the officer outside the room.” Tory leaned against the wall, stifling a yawn. “Y’all need to go. I’m sure there’s a lot for you to do.”

  Rebecca hugged her sister-in-law, who stiffened. Rebecca stepped away, noticing that her sister-in-law’s mouth was pressed in a thin line. “I’m sorry about what’s happening.”

  “You should be. You’ve put your family in danger.” Tory’s eyes narrowed.

  “It’s not her fault—”

  “I don’t blame you for being upset,” Rebecca said, interrupting Brody’s protest. “I never meant for anything like this to happen.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t, but it did.” Tory glanced at the doctor, who was going into the room. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my husband needs me.”

  Brody took her hand. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. She doesn’t mean that.”

  “Yes, she does. Her husband is injured and her stepdaughter is missing. She has a right to be upset.”

  “But you didn’t do this.”

  “No,” Rebecca turned and started for the elevator, “but I’m going to do everything humanly possible to get my niece back.” On the ride down to the first floor, she started going through the cases she had presided over the past year. Someone out there hated her enough to go after her loved ones. Why?

  17

  Rebecca collapsed into the overstuffed chair in the den and put her feet up on the ottoman. “Alone at last.” Her head pounded from all the commotion and noise made by a packed house of law enforcement officers, who were setting up a command post, which included putting a tap on the phone in case there was a ransom demand.

  “Sorry for the invasion, but you need to be protected, and I need to work on the case. Best if the command center is here at the ranch house.” Brody settled onto the ottoman. “How’s the list coming? Any more people you can think of who might want to do this to you? We’re running down the three you’ve already given us.” />
  She rested her head on the cushion and stared at the ceiling. “It’s sad that my life has come down to figuring out who hates me enough to murder a good friend and colleague, to try to kill my brother, and now to kidnap my niece. In law school, I don’t think I took a class that would prepare me for the crazies of this world.”

  “Revenge is a powerful motivator.”

  “What about to forgiving our fellow man?”

  “In theory, that’s great. In practice, many people don’t know how to do that. When we catch this person, and we will, can you forgive him for what he’s done?”

  “If the man responsible walked through that door right now, I would be greatly tempted to snatch your gun and shoot him. I know God wants us to forgive, no matter what. But, frankly, I don’t know if I could forgive him. Ever.”

  “Focus on that feeling. Who in your life might feel that way toward you? A family member of someone you put away? A person who is finally out of prison?”

  She kneaded her forehead with her fingertips. “What if I overlook the person for some reason?”

  “I’m not depending totally on you. There is a countywide search for the truck. I’m taking another look at the arson, and the murder victims that we’re not sure Alexandrov was responsible for.”

  She caught his gaze. “Tell me you’ve got a solid lead.”

  “I can’t. The roses are a dead end. No fingerprints on the syringe or on the white pickup that we can’t rule out.”

  She handed him the sheet of paper in her lap. “Here are two more names.”

  “Have you gone back to when you were a prosecuting attorney?”

  “Not yet. I’m going through my notes on the cases I presided over. I’m up to my first year as a judge. Almost through, then I can start on my cases as a prosecutor, but that was five years ago.”

  “A person can hold a grudge a long time. Or maybe something changed to make him come after you now. I’ve got a couple of officers looking into all the people whose cases you’ve presided over.” He peered at the paper. “Who stands out the most?”

  “The top name I gave you earlier. Zeb Matthews. Very vocal when he was sentenced for a crime he insisted he hadn’t done.”

  “I’ll look into him personally. Anyone else?”

  Rebecca glanced over at the short stack of folders on the table next to her and tapped the top one. “Owen Smith. He was one of my first big trials. I don’t need to review his case to know he’s capable of doing something like this.”

  Brody took her pen and wrote his name on the sheet. “What’s his story?”

  “He kept saying someone else kidnapped his little girl and murdered her. But all the evidence pointed to him. The jury convicted him. I can remember the last time I saw him. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. As he left the courtroom, he pointed to me and then made a gesture as if he were strangling me.” She sank back against the cushion, so tired she could barely keep her eyes from shutting. When they closed, she forced them open again. “And Laura was strangled.” She shuddered.

  Brody leaned forward, gently traced his finger down her jawline, and then cupped her chin. “You are not to blame. Let your guilt go and turn it over to the Lord. He can handle it.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “I know, Rebecca.” The softness in his eyes soothed her for a moment. “Get some sleep first. You aren’t going to be good for anyone if you don’t.”

  “I will soon. But I want to review some of my cases as a prosecutor.” She waved her hands at the stack of files spread out over the den. “I only have a few hundred.”

  He stood and pulled her up against him. “I’m escorting you to your bedroom, where you’re going to sleep for at least a few hours. I’m serious. You can hardly think straight as exhausted as you are.” Taking her face between his palms, he kissed her forehead. “I promise I’ll wake you in three hours.”

  “How about you? You haven’t gotten any sleep, either.”

  “I’ve done this before.” One corner of his mouth lifted up. “Besides, I don’t require as much beauty sleep.”

  “If I wasn’t so tired, I’d take offense at that statement.”

  “Don’t. You’re beautiful to me inside and out.” This time he brushed his lips across hers, lightly, barely connecting with her. Then he rose, drawing her up with him and draping his arm over her shoulders.

  As they started for the hallway, she cuddled against him, needing his strength and his assurance that they would find Kim alive. As they passed the living room, she spotted another Texas Ranger as well as two deputies and the sheriff. “They look as tired as I feel.”

  “They are.”

  “We’ve got a spare bedroom.”

  “We thought we would take shifts.”

  At the bottom of the staircase, she turned to face him. “I can find my own way to the bedroom. I don’t think there’s anyone hiding under my bed. Not with all these cops here.” She started up the stairs. “Remember, three hours. I still have a lot of files to go through.”

  “No way do I want to be in trouble with you.” Brody glanced at his watch. “I’ll give you five minutes to go to sleep. I’ll wake you up at four.”

  J. R. drank another shot of whiskey, stalking from one end of the small living room to the other. Periodically he glanced at the girl on the couch. But the innocent set of her features taunted him. He’d checked her earlier. She was alive, but she still hadn’t awakened—even when he tied her hands and feet.

  He stomped into the kitchen to pour himself more liquor. He caught sight of the card she’d made him on the desk. He grabbed it and balled it up, then tossed it in the trash. Kim was a means to an end. It was one thing to kill a criminal and, for that matter even Laura. But a child? He’d thought he could do it. Now he wasn’t so sure. No, he just needed to drink enough, then he wouldn’t feel anything and he could do it.

  A scream split the air, and he nearly dropped his glass. He grabbed for the ski mask and pulled it on then ran from the kitchen into the living room. The girl sat up straight, her eyes huge as she wrestled with the rope at her wrists.

  Her gaze seized his. “Please don’t hurt me. Please.” Her bottom lip trembled as she continued to twist her hands, trying to loosen the restraints. “I want my daddy.” Tears flowed down her cheeks.

  He took a step toward her. Then another. More sobs penetrated the hard casing he had built around his heart. Nobody had ever cared about him—except his brother. He owed him.

  A few more paces, and he sat down by the girl. He could remember her looking up at him, her eyes sparkling, a big smile on her face. She’d hung on every word he’d spoken the couple of times he’d seen her.

  She finally gave up trying to free herself and instead buried her face in her hands and cried.

  He reached toward her to pat her back. The action surprised him, and he yanked his hand back before he actually went through with it. He needed to kill her now. Dispose of the body and then get out of San Antonio as planned.

  He looked at her neck, slender, tanned, probably from spending a lot of time outdoors. Curling and uncurling his hands, he listened to the anguish pour out of her.

  Kill her. Now.

  His face loomed before her. His sinister smile seared into her heart, branding her with the threat it held.

  I never forget. Behind those words there was an even deeper threat, full of unspoken evil. He had tortured and murdered a teenage girl and been caught taking another on whom to do his will.

  His laughter burst forth from his lips, his teeth gleaming. Never.

  Then his face fragmented into a hundred pieces like a jigsaw puzzle thrown into the air. Then another killer appeared, occupying every crevice of her mind. You’ll regret ever prosecuting me. I’ll get out and come after you.

  She started running as fast as she could. But no matter where she went, he was there, waiting for her. Grabbing for her, trapping her.

  She fought. But something confined her arms and legs—imprisoning
her.

  Rebecca bolted up in bed; darkness shrouded her. Except for the lighted red numbers that read 3:42.

  She flung back the covers wrapped about her and rose. She knew who could have done this.

  J. R. couldn’t stand it a second longer. The girl’s sobs tore at his composure.

  Anger warred with regret. Anger because he should be able to do this. Regret because he shouldn’t have agreed to the plan. Not the part about killing an innocent child.

  “Kim, do you want some water?”

  Her cries quieted.

  “Or something to eat?”

  She raised her head and looked at him. Biting her bottom lip, she stared at the black ski mask.

  He flipped his hand at his face. “Does this scare you?”

  She nodded.

  He peeled off the mask. No matter what he did, she wouldn’t be returning home.

  Rebecca made her way downstairs to the living room, transformed now into the command center where Brody was running the investigation. It was deserted. Where was everyone? Had something happened? What? Panic started in her stomach and zipped throughout her so rapidly it took her by surprise. She’d been able to hold it back. But not anymore. Her palms were sweating. Moisture cloaked her forehead. Tremors shook her.

  Then she heard voices coming from her kitchen. She sagged against the back of a lounge chair. Regaining control.

  Pushing herself upright, she started toward the kitchen, only to come to a halt as Sean entered the room. “What are you doing up? You need your rest.”

  “I was going to say the same thing to you. You have about fifteen more minutes to sleep before Brody was going to wake you up, and from the way you look, you need that, and more.”

  “I’d say that your powers of observation are as keen as when you were a cop. Is Brody in the kitchen?”

  “Yeah, he’s making another pot of coffee. I took the last cup.” Sean held up his mug, then took a drink. “I taught my son how to make a good cup of coffee, at least. A necessity for these long nights.”