by Terri Reed
Ben raised his eyebrows. “You carry a weapon?” A moment of surrealism overtook him. Seeing her with the weapon was so incongruent with his idea of her. He quickly relieved her of the piece.
She sliced him a sardonic look. “Dad insisted I know my way around a handgun. He always said, ‘Just in case.’ Well, tonight was a ‘just in case’ kind of night.”
Ben couldn’t have agreed more. But he’d had no idea Greg had armed his daughter. And he hated that she’d had to use the weapon. “I assume you have a safe or lock box for this?”
“Of course. In my room. I’m just bummed I didn’t get the guy.” A pained expression tightened her features. “Or had it on me earlier!”
He shuddered at the thought of her confronting either assailant. And to chase after this one! What had she been thinking?
If this was the same culprit who’d killed her father, he could have easily shot at her again. Why hadn’t he? And where was the SAPD officer who’d been standing guard?
Ben decided he’d puzzle the questions out later. For now he had to stay focused on Corinna. This was his fault. He’d allowed her to be put in danger. He’d let his captain down.
Heart thudding in time with the pounding at his temple, he said, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you stay here.”
Hugging her robe around her middle, she said, “You didn’t have much say in the matter.”
His jaw tightened. He’d made the mistake once of letting her talk him into going against his better judgment. There wouldn’t be a repeat. Not on his watch.
Where was the police officer he’d had guarding her? “Did you see the SAPD officer?”
Her eyebrows pulled together. “I didn’t.”
The sound of squealing tires and car doors slamming announced the arrival of other Rangers.
Anderson Michaels thundered onto the porch. His blond hair was mussed and his sharp eyes were filled with concern. “You two okay?”
Ben nodded over the top of Corinna’s head. “She’s unhurt. Someone broke in and trashed the study. He ran out through the back patio doors. Like last time. The SAPD officer is missing.”
Pulling his weapon from the back of his sweatpants, Anderson said, “I’ll find him.” He hurried around the corner of the house.
Another car barreled into the driveway. Gisella stepped out of her vehicle and rushed forward. “What happened?” she asked.
He quickly explained the situation, then turned to Corinna. “You should go change. I want to take you to SAPD to look through mug shots. Maybe we’ve caught a break.”
“Good idea,” Corinna said as she stepped onto the porch.
“Gisella, go with her,” Ben ordered.
Corinna paused and threw an incredulous look over her shoulder at him. “I can manage changing my clothes on my own.”
Of course she could, but he hated the thought of her alone and unprotected. He refrained from insisting, telling himself she’d be fine. They were all within earshot of her. “Sorry. Of course.”
She stared at him for a moment with questions in her eyes before she fled inside.
He watched her go, anxious at having her out of his sight even for a brief moment.
Anderson returned, helping a semi-conscious officer along with him. He propped the still groggy man up on the porch. “Found him knocked out under a bush in the back.”
Gisella flipped open her phone. “I’ll call for a bus.”
“What could the perp be looking for?” Ben asked. “We searched the place after Greg was killed and didn’t find anything useful.”
Anderson ran a hand through his hair. “Beats me. But the guy trashed the study. I wonder if he got what he came for before Corinna chased him away?”
“I suggest we search through everything again,” Gisella said. “Though I have no idea what we’re looking for.”
“That’s the million dollar question,” Anderson replied.
Ben agreed. “You two take care of it. When the others arrive, explain what’s happening. I’ll take Corinna into the station.”
“She’s welcome to come to my place when you’re done,” Gisella said.
Relieved by the offer, Ben said, “I’ll go tell her to pack her bags.”
He entered the house and strode down the hall. Stopping in front of her closed door, he knocked.
“Yes?” Corinna replied.
“It’s me.”
The door opened. Corinna had changed into black leggings, a long tunic-style red blouse and flat sandals that emphasized the delicate structure of her feet. She’d braided her hair off to one side. Her pale complexion set off her wide, dark eyes. She was so petite and fragile-looking that Ben wanted to wrap her once again in his arms and shield her from the world.
Whoa! That was not what Greg had entrusted her to him for.
Ben didn’t generally react in such a touchy-feely manner. Not even the few girlfriends he’d had over the years had elicited such a knee-jerk need in him to protect them the way Corinna did. But there was something about Corinna which evoked the response. Something he didn’t understand.
He’d better get a handle on his attraction, his weakness for her. She was off-limits. Greg had made that clear. Ben would never dishonor Greg.
He stayed in the doorway. “You’ll need to pack your bags. You can stay with Gisella until we catch this guy,” he said, more brusquely than he’d intended.
She arched a winged eyebrow. “You’re really going to tell me what to do?”
Didn’t she understand her life was in danger? “Your safety is paramount.”
Her eyes flashed. “No. Finding my father’s killer is the priority.”
He allowed a wry smile to tip the corner of his mouth. “Both are a priority. Solving your father’s murder could take months unless we catch a break. Right now you are our best lead, which makes you a target. So the most pressing issue at this precise second is getting you somewhere safe.”
Corinna considered his words, and then conceded his point with a slight incline of her head and a droop to her shoulders. “Fine. I’ll pack a bag.”
When he didn’t make a move to leave the room, she came to stand in front of him. “I’m safe now. You and the others are here. There’s no need for you to be so worried.”
He captured her hands and held them. “I can’t help it. If anything happens to you, I will never forgive myself.”
Though she was sure she knew the answer, she asked anyway, “Why do you care so much?”
Two little creases formed between his eyebrows. “Because you’re Greg’s daughter. He’s gone. It’s up to me to protect you.”
Unreasonable disappointment rushed over her. “Why you, specifically? Why not pass me off to one of the others?”
For a second, confusion darkened his hazel eyes. “I have to pass you off, as you say, to Gisella. For propriety’s sake.”
Hearing him confirm he was taking her protection personally gave her an unexpected thrill. She shouldn’t want his attention but she did. And knowing that he wanted not only to keep her safe, but to guard her reputation made tenderness tingle in her heart. “That’s very old-fashioned of you. I’m sure my father would be proud.”
Sadness crept into his expression. “Your father taught me a lot about values. And about faith. He was a great man.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She just wished her father had wanted to spend more time with her. Instead, he’d spent time with Ben. The old hurt throbbed. She withdrew her hands. “That still doesn’t explain why you feel as though you have to be responsible for my safety. I’m sure any of the others would do just as well.”
The corners of his mouth tightened slightly. “Greg asked me to look after you if anything should happen to him.”
“Ah.” Understanding smacked her upside the head. So she was his obligation. How idiotic of her to have harbored any thought he was taking such a personal interest for other reasons.
She was glad he’d put up the barrier between them. She’d
let him protect her, while she protected her heart.
Quickly, she gathered her necessary belongings into a couple of tote bags, the only thing she’d need to get was a toothbrush since she left hers out in the barn, and followed Ben out of the house to his Jeep.
“Oh, wait!” she said when she saw Gabby on the porch. Scooping up the feline, she turned to Gisella. “Is it okay if Gabby comes to your house as well?”
Gisella grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m allergic to cats.”
“Then my staying with you won’t work.” Corinna bit her lip. She could stay at the Miriam shelter she volunteered at, but as soon as the thought formed she rejected it. She wouldn’t take a bed away from someone in need. “I could ask Susan or Felicia if I could stay with them.”
“I don’t think putting your friends in danger is a good idea,” Ben said.
He was right, of course. She had no family left, no one to turn to. She was alone. The need to move, to dance, washed through her like a rogue wave. Only when she was dancing did she feel whole and in control. Agitation revved through her veins, her foot began to bounce. “I can stay at the dance studio. There’s a couch in the locker room and I’m sure Madame wouldn’t mind if Gabby’s there.”
Ben frowned. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Then a pet-friendly hotel will have to do.”
“I’d rather you stayed with Gisella. I’ll take the cat.”
Surprised, Corinna stared at him. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ll take care of…”
“Gabby.”
“Right. Gabby. I can have pets in my apartment.”
She didn’t even know where he lived, let alone why he’d offer, but she’d take it. “Thank you. Her food, dish and litter box are in the laundry room.”
Relief softened Ben’s jaw. “That’s settled then. After we go to the station house, I’ll take you to Gisella’s.”
Corinna glanced at the female Ranger. “You’re kind to offer. Are you sure I wouldn’t be putting you out?”
Gisella smiled. “Not at all. I’m between roommates at the moment. The second bedroom is furnished and unoccupied.”
“It’s a good plan,” Ben said, taking one of Corinna’s hands and squeezing. “Stay with Gisella. You’ll be safe there.”
Safe.
His hazel eyes implored her to accept the offer. Part of her wanted to rebel, wanted to say no, she was strong enough, brave enough to stay here regardless of the danger. She didn’t need their help. But she really wasn’t foolish, either. She nodded.
After gathering her cat’s belongings and stowing them away in the back of the Jeep, Ben drove them to the San Antonio Police station.
This early in the morning, with the first streaks of sunrise appearing on the horizon, the green glass and yellow-sided police department building was lit up from within. Crime didn’t sleep and neither did the night shift officers.
After identifying himself, Ben explained the situation to the navy-and-gold-uniformed desk sergeant. They were led to a vacant desk in the belly of the bustling department.
“Have a seat,” the sergeant said. “I’ll bring you the books for the past five years.”
“Perfect,” Ben said as he held out a chair for Corinna.
She took a seat on the padded task chair while Ben grabbed a nearby metal folding chair, turned it around, and straddled the seat, looking directly at her. His gaze searched her face. The way he studied her was a bit unnerving. He’d been staring ever since they’d left her home.
If her dad hadn’t been killed, she’d have been amused by Ben’s overbearing way of ordering her to Gisella’s. She usually didn’t take to such high-handed behavior. But her father had been murdered and the recent break-in freaked her out.
The shot she’d fired off still had her ears ringing, and truth be told she was scared and feeling vulnerable. The intruder could have returned to kill her instead of searching for something. Ben had said the Rangers didn’t know what the guy had been seeking. Neither did she.
“Here we go,” the sergeant said, depositing a stack of five photo albums on the metal desktop in front of Corinna.
Each album was three inches thick. She flipped open the cover of the top one. The page was filled with small, square photos. There were hundreds of pictures to go through. It would be like looking for a viper in a pit full of every kind of snake imaginable. Her face must have betrayed her dismay at the enormity of the task facing her.
“I know this seems daunting, but take your time. Scan the photos. If anyone looks remotely familiar let me know,” Ben said.
She nodded and settled herself to the task. An hour and five books later, she finally shook her head. “I don’t know, Ben. He could be any number of these guys.”
Disappointment seeped into her tone, but she couldn’t help it. She’d so wanted to find the person responsible for her father’s death. She wished she could simply point a finger to a photo and, presto, have their killer.
Ben put his hand on her arm. “Don’t beat yourself up about this. You’re tired. Maybe we can have you work with a sketch artist. Paige is great at coaxing details from people’s subconscious. I’ll have her drive over from Austin.”
“I’ll try anything,” Corinna said, willing to do whatever it took to find her father’s killer.
Ben rose. “Tomorrow after you’ve had some rest.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get you to Gisella’s.”
She slipped her hand into his engulfing grip and allowed him to help her to her feet. His fingers locked firmly around hers. Their palms meshed together, sending waves of sensation up her arm to settle in the vicinity of her heart. There was no denying her attraction to Ben.
Old hurt and anger tightened her breathing. She still remembered the day he’d walked into her life thirteen years ago. He’d been a lanky, somewhat surly nineteen-year-old who’d embodied all her teenage dreams. Until she’d realized he wasn’t leaving. Then she’d come to resent him for invading her family. For taking her father’s attention away. For being the son she couldn’t be.
She jerked her hand free, ignoring his confused expression as she preceded him out of the police station into the still-dark and temperate morning air.
Attraction couldn’t counteract all the years of resentment piled up in her heart like old moldy blankets, smothering in its intensity and weighing down any wayward, unwanted yearnings.
In the grand scheme of her life, giving in to her attraction to Ben would only bring her more pain.
She had to remember that.
FOUR
Corinna arrived at the San Antonio Dance Company’s building and parked near the door. Thankfully, this early in the day no one was about. She’d quietly left Gisella’s house before the Ranger had awoken.
Keeping an alert eye for any possible danger and her cell phone ready, she’d walked several blocks before calling a taxi to take her to her house so she could get her car. The thought of being cooped up, basically like a prisoner, in the Ranger’s house had provoked the streak of rebellion that Corinna worked hard to keep at bay.
Her father always lamented her rebellious nature would one day get her in trouble. Ha! She’d lived her whole life doing what others wanted her to do. And she wasn’t stupid. Her father had made sure she knew how to handle herself.
Since she tended to rehearse at odd hours when others weren’t in the building, she had a key to the side door. In the stillness of the early morning, she entered. The place was muggy from being locked up tight. She decided not to open any windows. Inside the studio room, she fired up the stereo system and did a quick warm-up before pushing play. Tchaikovsky’s pas de deux sprang from the speakers to surround her. The notes so familiar, so cherished.
But her scattered thoughts wouldn’t let her relish the music. Her father was dead. Gone forever.
A sob lay trapped in her throat.
Ben’s words slammed into her mind. You can count on all of the Rangers. We are your family now.
She didn�
�t want that. She’d lived too long in that world to stay there willingly. But where did she belong?
Here. She belonged here in this studio, doing the only thing she knew how to do.
Shutting down her mind and ignoring the bite of pain in her biceps, she allowed her body to flow to the music. Dancing had become her refuge during her youth. Today it was so much more. Losing herself to the movement, the music, insulated her from the outside world. Inside the bubble of dance, she was safe. There was no sorrow, there was no pain. Only the dance.
She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrored wall. Who was that wild-eyed, pale ghost of a woman?
Tears blurred her vision. She squeezed her eyes tight. And pirouetted her way to oblivion.
A little before eight in the morning, Ben arrived at the Rangers’ offices with a heavy heart. The flat-roofed, sprawling building looked unusually drab this morning, as if reflecting the grief tightening Ben’s chest. He pulled into his usual spot next to Gisella’s truck. All of the Rangers’ vehicles were in their spots. All but one. Greg’s wasn’t there and never would be again.
As soon as Ben got out of his Jeep, a reporter descended.
“Can you confirm the identity of the fallen Ranger as Captain Gregory Pike?” the red-haired female reporter asked as she shoved a microphone into Ben’s face.
Her eager-to-get-the-story expression drove a stake through Ben’s heart. His blood pressure skyrocketed. The media had no soul, no understanding of human compassion, only a hunger to get the story no matter what the cost.
“No comment.” He pushed past the cameraman angling to capture him on film.
Thankful to leave the reporter and her sidekick outside, Ben swiped his access card and entered the relatively quiet building. He took a moment to compose himself before making his way to his office. After checking his messages, he went in search of Marissa Franklin, the administrative assistant. He found her sitting at her desk staring out the window.
“Marissa,” he said as he entered her workspace.