“We’re heading out to conduct interviews,” Kendall said.
Her nana looked up. “Will you be home for dinner?”
“If those are rolls you’re making, I sure hope so.” Cord grinned.
“Menu tonight is rolls, roast beef, mashed potatoes and garden carrots.” She smiled back at him.
Kendall loved the ease between the pair and wondered what it would be like to be so free with her emotions with him, as she had once been, instead of feeling so guarded all the time.
“And I promised Lucas I’d bake brownies. His favorites, he said, as long as there’s some vanilla ice cream to go with them.” She winked.
Instead of the smile Kendall expected from Cord, he looked like something was bothering him. Perhaps he had no idea what any of Lucas’s favorite things were.
“We should go,” she said to keep him from stewing about his nephew.
Outside, she turned to Cord. “I’ll drive. I want to take my squad car so I have computer access in case we need to check on anyone we talk to.”
He seemed to think about it a moment, then nodded.
She reached her car, and the dent in the door brought back memories of the suspect’s angry eyes as he warned her to back off. His harsh words. Tone. Then the noose came to mind. Hanging there. The warning clear.
A chill cascaded down her body even though temperatures had already topped ninety degrees. She paused, hand on her sidearm, and scanned the area.
“I’m glad to see you being so cautious.” Cord bent to check the wheel wells. “After the noose yesterday, protecting you has to be a top priority.”
Feeling even more unsettled, she got into the car and clicked the locks before taking the road toward Cumberland and the restaurant where Eve had dined most often. Kendall’s residual unease—when she was usually pretty fearless—left her anxious, and she didn’t feel like talking.
Silence settled around them like a Texas dust storm, thick and irritating. Shifting to get physically comfortable, she lifted her hand to rest it on the computer mount but brushed Cord’s shoulder. She jerked back from the searing touch, earning a raise of his eyebrows.
“Sorry,” she said, hating that he reacted so negatively to her touch. Time for her to be brutally honest to put this to rest once and for all. “I guess there’s still something between us. At least from my end.”
“You clearly don’t want that to be the case.” His tone was laced with disappointment.
Wait, what? Did he want to get involved again? What would the point be if they hadn’t ironed out any of their issues?
She had to make sure he clearly understood that a relationship with him was the last thing she wanted.
“You’re right, I don’t.” She gave him a pointed look. “Now would be the worst possible time for me to get involved in a relationship. The very worst, and even if it wasn’t, you would totally be the wrong guy.”
* * *
The force of Kendall’s words felt like a punch to Cord’s chest. He didn’t want anything to do with her on a personal level, either. Okay, he did, but he wouldn’t follow his interest. Couldn’t. Not with his crazy, mixed-up life right now, but her vehement rejection still stung.
“Just so we’re clear, I don’t want it, either,” he said from between clenched teeth.
“Good,” she replied.
“Fine.” He crossed his arms and sat back to stare out the window. He felt as angry as Lucas often acted and wanted to become full-blown mad at her, but why? She’d done nothing other than voice her opinion. An opinion he was glad for, right?
So take a breath and get over it.
He tried. Once. Twice. Didn’t work, so he watched out the window, focusing on the familiar scenery. This area had been in his regular patrol sector when he was a Lake County deputy, and he’d driven down this rural road hundreds, maybe thousands, of times. He always thought out here in the boonies was an odd place for a restaurant, but Buddy’s World-Famous Barbeque had started with a smoker at Buddy’s house fifty years ago, his wife baking the pies to sell alongside the barbeque. It grew from there into a full-fledged restaurant.
A few miles outside Cumberland, Kendall pulled into Buddy’s parking lot and killed the engine. The place had cedar siding, grayed from years under the Texas sun, and a green metal roof. A large porch ran the length of the building and held white rocking chairs. The lot was empty, but the smell of roasting meat and the smoke rising up from behind the building gave him hope that someone was working.
He reached for the door but turned back to Kendall. “Let’s make sure our personal differences don’t get in the way, okay? Your safety and finding Eve have to come before anything else.”
“Agreed.” Kendall pulled the keys from the ignition and grabbed the suspect’s sketch. Her phone chimed, and she glanced at it. “It’s a text from Matt. Eve called the bank again. He wasn’t able to record it, but he’ll track the phone number. He’ll get back to us if it returns any actionable information.”
Cord gave a firm nod but she could tell he was disappointed. “Keep your head on a swivel.”
He stayed close to her until they were inside the small joint with tables covered in white butcher paper. Metal buckets filled with peanuts, and smaller cans holding crayons for doodling, sat on the table. The scarred wood floor was covered in shells that crunched underfoot.
“Eve would hate this place,” Cord said to Kendall. “She likes things neat and tidy and this is the opposite.”
“Which makes it even weirder that she ate here four times in the last few weeks.”
A dark-haired woman wearing jeans and a purple plaid shirt with a white apron over it looked up from behind a counter, where she was filling salt shakers. She smiled, but it was forced. “Sorry, we don’t open for an hour.”
“Actually, we’re not here for food but for some information.” Kendall held out her identification.
The woman planted her palms on the counter and looked like she wanted to sigh but held it in. Cord noticed her name tag read Billie Jo.
“How can I help you?” she asked in a heavy Texas drawl.
“I was wondering if you remember seeing this woman here.” Kendall held out her phone, with Eve’s picture on it.
“Yeah, sure. I remember her.” Billie Jo smiled again, and this time it was genuine. “She’s been here a few times lately. She sat in my section each time. Real nice lady and great tipper.”
“Might this man have been dining with her?” Kendall laid the sketch on the counter.
Billie Jo glanced at it and shook her head. “She was with a man but he was older than that. Maybe ten years younger than her. I figure she’s in her seventies, and he’s in his sixties, maybe late fifties. But you know how sometimes men age better than women and it’s hard to tell, so I could be totally wrong.”
So basically, she didn’t have any information, except Eve’s companion was older than their suspect. It didn’t narrow things down much and left Cord frustrated. But Billie Jo couldn’t help that.
He schooled his voice to keep his emotion in check. “Was she with this same guy every time?”
She nodded.
“Did you catch his name?”
“She never mentioned it, and she always paid, so I didn’t see his name on a credit card.” Billie Jo frowned. “Honestly, I thought it was kind of odd that the man didn’t pay.”
So did Cord. “Did you get a feel for their relationship?”
“He held her hand. Smiled at her a lot. She seemed captivated by him. So yeah, I thought they were dating.”
Cord fought his mouth’s natural desire to drop open. “And they both seemed to be into each other?”
“Yeah...yeah. I guess so. Her maybe more than him, but then he’s a guy and guys aren’t always that expressive, are they?” She looked at Cord like she was lumping him in that category.
/> Maybe he belonged there. He often felt devoid of any emotion except grief these days. Frustration with Lucas, too, he supposed. That was when he wasn’t just plain mad at the world and aching inside. Or maybe wanting to be with Kendall. So fine. He was an emotional wreck.
“Do you have any security cameras?” Kendall asked.
Billie Jo snorted. “We barely have a working cash register. The owner’s not about to fork over money for cameras.”
“Do you remember the guy well enough that you could meet with a sketch artist and have a drawing made like this one?” Cord tapped the attacker’s drawing, which was still lying on the counter.
Billie Jo lifted her head to the ceiling. “Not sure, but maybe.” She quickly dropped her chin, her eyes narrowed. “What’s this about anyway? This lady in trouble?”
“We’re not at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation.” Kendall smiled. “If I arrange for a sketch artist, could you come to the office to meet with him?”
She ran a hand over her hair. “Sure, as long as I can be here by ten to prepare for the lunch rush.”
“What’s your cell number?” Kendall asked. Billie Jo offered it and Kendall tapped it into her phone. “You should hear from me soon. Until then, can you give us a basic description of the man?”
“Silvery hair. Distinguished looking. Was pretty fit. Not overweight. Maybe six feet tall.”
“Anything that set him apart from other men?” Cord asked.
Billie Jo tilted her head. “No. Not really. I mean, except he was fit for his age, when a lot of the guys we get in here for all-you-can-eat barbeque have packed on some weight.”
“That’s it for my questions.” Kendall handed a business card to Billie Jo and gave Cord a questioning look.
“Thank you, Billie Jo.” Cord smiled.
She nodded. “Hope I can help you figure out whatever it is you need help with.”
Kendall offered a final smile, and they headed for the door.
“I wonder if Eve ate with this guy at every restaurant,” Cord said as they walked back over the crunchy shells. “Or maybe she met an old friend for dinner here and Billie Jo is mistaken about the romance angle.”
Kendall looked up at him. “You really don’t like the idea of her dating, do you?”
“Like it? I don’t know if like is the right word, but it’s crazy weird to me.”
“Well, it’s beginning to look like that might be what’s going on.”
“I know.”
“Here’s the thing, though,” Kendall continued. “If she’s missing because she’s run off with some guy—”
“Which I don’t think is the case.”
“I tend to agree with that, but hear me out. So if she’s run off, who’s the young guy who clocked me with the rolling pin?”
“Makes me think this has even less to do with dating.” Cord opened the door and stepped outside. “Or I don’t know. Maybe I’m too closed-minded about that. Maybe I’m too close to Eve to do a good job here at all.”
“You’re doing fine,” she said.
“Fine isn’t good enough. I feel like I’m missing things.”
“Speaking of missing things, I spent some time last night thinking about the item missing from the bookshelf. What if Eve has pictures with the bookshelf in the background? If we head over there, we might find one and figure out what’s missing.”
“See, that’s the kind of thing I need to be coming up with. It’s just...”
“You’re worried sick about Eve. Cut yourself some slack and let me help, okay?”
He nodded, but that wasn’t going to stop him from blaming himself for Eve’s disappearance. Wouldn’t stop him at all.
ELEVEN
Kendall tried to concentrate on her driving as they made their way to Eve’s house; really, she did. But with Cord sitting in the passenger seat of her cruiser, his arm draped over the edge of the computer mount, where she could easily reach out and touch him, her mind kept wandering to their brief personal conversation.
Her emotions were so mixed. She wanted to talk to him about why he seemed so mad, and yet she didn’t want to bring it up. What good would it do? Point blank, they had no future together.
“Um, Kendall,” he said. “You passed Eve’s house.”
She startled as if coming out of a dream to see he was right.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him swivel to face her. “What’s got you so distracted?”
Her phone rang, saving her from having to explain. She spotted Tessa’s name on the screen and put her on speakerphone. “What’s up, Tessa?”
“Glad I caught you,” her sister said excitedly. “I recovered a Goodwill donation receipt from between the seats of Eve’s car. It’s dated four days ago.”
“And you think it’s related to the investigation?” Cord asked before Kendall could even open her mouth.
“I don’t know, but I knew you two were headed to Eve’s place this morning, so I had Dylan go by the Goodwill in case that’s what happened to your missing item.”
“And?” Kendall asked.
“They still hadn’t unpacked her donation, so he looked through it. She only donated clothing, but in the pocket of an old cardigan, he found a handwritten thank-you note for dinner and a declaration of love. I’ve processed the note and it’s recent.”
Cord clenched his fists. “Was it signed?”
“No, but I’ll send it to the state lab for handwriting analysis. They only have one analyst on staff and he’s always backlogged, so it may take some time to get a response.”
“We need to get a look at it,” Kendall said as she felt the tension radiating from Cord’s body.
“I scanned and emailed it to you.”
“We’re approaching Eve’s place now, and I’ll check it out.” Kendall did a U-turn in the next driveway.
Cord locked gazes with her. “I want you to stay here while I check out the house. Just in case.”
She nodded.
He arched an eyebrow. “What? No argument?”
“No.”
“So you do get how much danger you’re in?”
She nodded.
“Lock the doors after me and stay put. Okay?”
“Yes.”
As he got out, she pressed the locks. He looked every bit the cowboy he once was, growing up on his parents’ ranch. They’d retired from ranching, as they were struggling, and sold it some years back to pay off debts, but she could still easily see him living that lifestyle again. He wore jeans, a red button-down shirt and his scuffed cowboy boots. He slapped his cowboy hat on his head and moved cautiously toward the door, his head turning and searching for threats.
Resting his hand on his sidearm, he was totally alert and ready for any danger. He would take a bullet for her. That was a given. Her protector.
Her heart melted, and she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to ignore this emotional draw to him.
He stepped inside, the screen door snapping closed behind him. She was struck by what a fine law enforcement officer he was. Had always been. She didn’t doubt if he’d stayed with the Lake County Sheriff’s Department, he would be getting the detective job she so desperately wanted. She’d felt bad about him having to leave Lost Creek, but in reality, he’d made detective far sooner in Houston, and he had years of experience that she was just starting to gain.
Sighing, she grabbed her phone to pull up the email from Tessa. The note found in Eve’s pocket was short and to the point, but it was perfectly clear that the gentleman was in love with her. The handwriting was neat and the s’s had particularly intricate swirls. More delicate than a man’s typical handwriting, but she’d seen Eve’s writing on forms, and even without official analysis, Kendall knew Eve didn’t compose this note. Cord wouldn’t like this message, but evidence of Eve dating was
staring them in the face.
He soon came back out, and instead of gesturing for her to join him, he jogged to her door and opened it. Right. He was a good officer. He wouldn’t even let her walk that short distance without an escort.
Inside the dark house, he secured the dead bolt and double-checked it.
“I have a photo of the note Tessa found.” Wanting to get this out of the way right up front, she held out her phone.
He gave the image a cursory look. “I’d like to start our search in the master closet.”
With his aversion to Eve dating, she wasn’t surprised he didn’t want to talk about the note.
He led her down the hallway, and Kendall glanced at the spot where she’d fallen unconscious. What might have happened if Cord hadn’t arrived when he did that night? Might the intruder have killed her?
She shuddered and hurried to Eve’s bedroom, on the way, snapping latex gloves on. Kendall didn’t know Eve, but her room, decorated in cool blues and greens, said she might be a serene person. As did the plain green bedspread covering the sleek midcentury bed.
Cord opened the closet door, revealing several white boxes on the upper shelf. He pulled them down and placed them on the bed.
Kendall went through them, finding only tax records and sweaters, until the third box. “Bingo! Photo albums. Let’s take them out to the dining room to go through them.”
He picked up the box, and at the dining table, he lifted out five books. She took the top album and sat to open it. A picture lay in the front, not mounted in a sleeve, of three young boys smiling down at the camera from a tree fort.
She showed it to Cord. “Are you one of these boys?”
He stepped behind her and stood silently for the longest time. “That’s me on the left, then Jace and Danny, taken at our ranch. That was the year Danny died.” His voice broke.
Cord dropped onto a chair with an album in front of him. He turned the pages at a rapid pace as if trying to flip away his hurt. Or maybe it was too painful for him to look at any old pictures of Danny. Cord had told her how guilty he felt for leaving the gate open so the dog could run out and Danny could chase him.
Taken in Texas Page 11