Texas Sheriff's Deadly Mission

by Karen Whiddon

  This resolution brought a calmness to her. With her purpose once again clear, she returned her focus to where it belonged.

  Before she reached the county line, she turned the car around and headed back toward Getaway, turning the music down and rolling up her windows.

  Before she reached downtown, she spotted Old Man Malone’s rickety pickup truck, pulled over onto the soft shoulder. She parked behind it, getting out and trying to spot the elderly man. There he was, in the middle of the pasture, ignoring the cattle and working his metal detector as if his life depended on it.

  Carefully crossing under the barbed wire fence, she approached him.

  “Afternoon, Sheriff,” he greeted her, barely pausing in his quest to find treasure.

  “Good afternoon,” she replied. “I hope you got permission to conduct a search in this field.”

  “Didn’t need it.” The upward twitch of his mouth warred with his grouchy tone. “This is my land. I lease it out to the Millers, but I still own it. And according to the contract, I can pay a visit anytime I want.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, glancing around. “What are you looking for?”

  “Same things I always do.” He squinted into the midafternoon sun. “Coins, jewelry, anything valuable that someone might have lost.”

  “But why here in this field? Isn’t this land just used for grazing?”

  He shrugged, now avoiding her gaze. “You never know where you might find something buried. Though this is on the opposite side of town from where you found those two girls...” He let his words trail off, knowing she’d catch his meaning.

  “I see.” Rayna didn’t even try to explain how serial killers worked. They didn’t go around scattering bodies in various fields. As a general rule, they kept their victims together, often revisiting the burial spots, where they took some kind of vicarious thrill from remembering. Mr. Malone didn’t need to know any of that. Instead, she inclined her head respectfully. “Please let me know if you find anything significant, all right?”

  “Will do, Sheriff Coombs.”

  Walking back to her car, she couldn’t help but wonder if Getaway would ever return to normal. Probably not until the killer—and Nicole Wilson—was found.

  She saw the news vans three blocks away from the station. Though she’d been expecting this, she’d still hoped for just a little more time.

  Instead of pulling back into the parking lot, she circled the block, staying away from the station for now. She called Mary, who answered on the second ring and wasn’t bothering to hide her annoyance.

  “Getaway Sheriff’s Office. How can I direct your call?”

  Rayna laughed. “You only say that when you’re about at wits’ end.”

  Clearly recognizing her boss’s voice, Mary snorted. “We’ve got reporters camped out front and in the reception area. They all want to talk to you. When are you coming back?”

  “I’m down the street. I haven’t had time to come up with an official statement.”

  “Neither has the mayor. He’s been calling here every twenty minutes. I’m surprised he hasn’t been calling your cell.”

  “He probably has.” Rayna grimaced. “I had the music turned up, so if he did, I didn’t hear it. I can’t check it now, since I’m driving.”

  “I’m betting you have several voice messages,” Mary said. “What would you like me to do?”

  “Call the mayor back, please. Ask him if four o’clock will be convenient for him to hold a joint press conference with me. If so, tell him I’ll meet him at his office at three thirty.” She took a deep breath. “Then go out front and let the media know. News conference at city hall at 4:00 p.m. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Mary said, clearly jotting everything down. “Are you coming here?”

  Rayna considered and then reached a sudden decision. “Not yet. I’ve got one more stop I’d like to make. I’d prefer to arrive once everything has been handled. That way I won’t be mobbed by reporters.”

  “Understood. I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done.”

  Rayna swung the car around and headed back toward downtown. She needed to talk to Serenity. Though she knew many people might scoff at such a notion, the self-proclaimed psychic had been right more often than not. Maybe, just maybe, Serenity might be able to help.

  With the afternoon heat making waves ripple up from the pavement, downtown Getaway appeared sleepy and deserted. Anyone with a lick of sense knew to stay inside the air conditioning, under a large ceiling fan. After the sun set, temperatures would drop somewhat, and the outdoor patios would fill up.

  Serenity’s store sat empty, though several completed floral arrangements had been lined up on the front counter for delivery. Serenity employed a high school boy to make the deliveries, and they were only done once he got out of school for the day.

  A series of little bells made a tinkling sound as Rayna pushed the door open all the way. “Hello?” Rayna called. Serenity was nowhere in sight. Not in the floral area, or the rock section, where startlingly beautiful groupings of crystals and polished stones shimmered.

  Turning right, Rayna entered the bookstore. Here, books were crammed together in groupings with titles such as Animal Totems, and Reincarnation. Often, Serenity could be found here, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, engrossed in a book.

  But this time, the bookstore, too, was empty.

  Slightly alarmed, Rayna called out again. “Serenity? It’s Rayna. Is everything all right?”

  A moment later, Serenity appeared from the back of the store, where she kept inventory and supplies. She greeted Rayna warmly, not appearing at all surprised. “I’m sensing you’re not here to shop.”

  “No, not this time.” Taking a deep breath, Rayna decided to launch right into it. “We’ve found a second body. Another young woman, and apparently she was killed the same way as the first.”

  Serenity’s calm gaze searched Rayna’s face. “But neither of them was Nicole, correct?”

  “Right. I’m worried. It would appear we have a serial killer operating right here under our noses in Getaway. I can’t help but wonder how many more bodies there might be.”

  Serenity nodded. “I’m assuming you’ve been checking the missing-person database.”

  “I have. There are a lot. I had no idea how many young women disappear each year. Since the FBI is now involved, we’ve been able to eliminate several. Both of the victims were young—late teens or early twenties—and neither were from Getaway.”

  “Like Nicole.”

  Slowly, Rayna nodded. “That’s my fear. I haven’t mentioned it to Parker, but then again, I probably don’t have to.”

  “She’s still alive.” Serenity spoke with quiet confidence. “Though I don’t know how much longer that will be.”

  “If there is any way you can see where she is or who has her, or...anything, that would be so helpful.” Aware she sounded desperate, Rayna didn’t care. “Whatever it takes to catch the sick SOB.”

  Serenity grimaced. “I get it, believe me. Often, I can’t peer into the darkness, but only get glimmers of insight. I’ll meditate on it and if I see anything, I promise to let you know.”

  “Thank you.” Feeling only the tiniest bit foolish, Rayna turned to go. “The sooner the better,” she said. “Because I agree with what you said. If Nicole Wilson is somehow still alive, she won’t be for much longer.”

  As Rayna left Serenity’s shop, her cell rang. Caller ID showed the sheriff’s office, which meant Mary.

  “Talk to me,” she answered.

  “You’re all set for four, though it might be closer to four thirty,” Mary said. “The mayor is on board, though he told me to make sure to forward him a copy of your statement. Evidently, he’s not going to make one of his own.”

  “That’s fine.” Rayna checked her watch. “Though that means I�
�ve only got forty-five minutes to come up with something.”

  “Are you on your way in?”

  Considering, Rayna finally answered in the affirmative. “But I’m going straight to my office, and I don’t want to be disturbed under any circumstances. Otherwise, I won’t have a cohesive statement to make to the press.”

  “Ten-four. See you in a few.” Mary ended the call.

  Rayna made it to the station undetected. Once inside, she sat down and wrote the most general, reassuring summary of the events she could think of. She called her FBI contact to see if the Bureau wanted to add anything. Since they stayed out of the limelight for now on this case, nothing needed to be added.

  Finally, feeling as prepared as possible, Rayna checked her makeup in the bathroom mirror, put on some fresh lipstick and headed over to city hall.

  Even before she pulled into the parking garage, she saw the huge gathering in the courtyard area near the steps. Not only media, but apparently a lot of townspeople had learned about the press conference and gathered to hear the scoop firsthand. Though she didn’t blame them, she was once again amazed at the speed at which gossip could spread in a small west Texas town.

  Though she tried to take a back entrance into the courthouse, a few of the locals spotted her and alerted the media by calling out her name. Ignoring everyone, she hurried inside and went straight to the mayor’s office. His frazzled secretary greeted her, rushing off to tell the mayor she’d arrived.

  The speech went well, she thought. She stuck to a strict account of the facts, refusing to allow any speculation. The mayor spoke also, reassuring the public that they were working very hard to find whoever had done this.

  Then a reporter from one of the big national news channels asked a question, unrelated to the case, that made her blood run cold.

  “Sheriff Coombs, would you care to comment on your previous position on the Conroe Police Department?”

  Even the mayor turned to stare at her when he heard that.

  “No comment,” she replied, her heart pounding. “This news conference is over.”

  Though she should have taken a dignified exit, going back inside city hall with the mayor, Rayna took off for her cruiser. Striding away without looking back, she knew they filmed her and would use the video in whatever story they created. Hopefully, her past wouldn’t somehow become their focus.

  All the way home, her hands shook. She gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled, and told herself to get calm before she reached her house.

  Deep breaths helped somewhat. By the time she pulled into her driveway, she had herself a little more under control.

  Wanda met her at the door, not bothering to hide her alarm.

  “Is everything all right?” Rayna asked. “Is Lauren—?”

  “Lauren’s fine. But you’d better sit down,” Wanda replied, taking her arm with a no-nonsense grip and steering her toward a chair. “I recorded the five-o’clock news and there’s a story on there you ought to see.”

  “Already? I just left the news conference.” Suddenly weary, Rayna shook off her mother’s hand. “I’ll watch in a minute. Let me go put up my service weapon and change first.” Starting toward her room, she caught sight of the answering machine blinking red. “Looks like there’s a message,” she said, reaching toward it to push Play.

  “Wait,” Wanda ordered. “Don’t play those. Not yet.”

  “‘Those’? As in multiple messages?”

  Expression verging on panicked, her mom nodded. “I finally turned the phone and the machine off.”

  “Mom, what’s going on? Why are you acting so weird?” As she spoke, she pulled her cell out of her pocket, relieved when she saw no missed calls or messages. “I know this can’t be about the serial killer case, or my office would have been blowing up my phone.”

  Finally, Wanda’s determined attempt at composure crumbled. “They know about Jimmy Wayne, Rayna. All the media attention on the case must have made some reporter start digging. All afternoon, they’ve been calling, wanting a statement from you on what happened in Conroe.”

  It took a heartbeat or two for her mother’s words to sink in. “They know?” She couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice. “I mean, someone asked about it at the news conference a few minutes ago, but how could they have dug out the facts so fast?”

  “I don’t know, but they did.” Expression miserable, Wanda sniffed. “You made the Midland-Odessa news. At least it will be too small a story to hit the national outlets.”

  “I don’t know. They were the ones asking about it at the conference.” Rayna took the few steps to her bedroom closet so she could put her weapon in her gun safe and lock it before managing to get back into the living room to a chair. She sat before her legs gave out from under her. She’d change later. “Which means it won’t be long before the national people pick up the story. They’ve already done pieces on a possible serial killer in a small west Texas town.”

  “Are you ready?” Wanda held up the remote. When Rayna nodded, she pressed the button to take the program off Pause.

  Numb, Rayna listened in mounting horror as the news anchor rehashed her past, ending the story with both Jimmy Wayne’s conviction for drug trafficking and her subsequent resignation from the Conroe Police Department. “From there, Rayna Coombs relocated to Getaway, Texas, where she worked as a patrol officer for several years before being elected to the position of sheriff.”

  A commercial came on and Wanda clicked the television off. Rayna sat there in stunned silence. To her chagrin, she found herself blinking back tears. “I really liked it here,” she whispered, unable to look at her mother. “I don’t want to have to give all this up.”

  “Then don’t.” There was a sharp edge to Wanda’s voice. “Fight for yourself this time. You did nothing wrong.”

  Rayna started to shake her head, but then stopped. “I know you feel I ran away, but it was the best thing I could have done for this family.”

  “True. And staying here would be the best thing right now.” Wanda came over and put her hand on Rayna’s shoulder. “Have a little faith in the people of this town. They not only like you, but they respect you, too.”

  Or they did, Rayna thought glumly. She’d thought her coworkers had liked and respected her at Conroe PD. Instead, they’d turned their backs on her, believing her guilty without a single shred of proof. Unable to bear the way her formerly close team ostracized her, aware that soon her pregnancy would show, she’d latched on to Sam’s offer of a job like a lifeline.

  Now, all that was about to change. People would figure out whose child Lauren had to be. It was one thing for Rayna to be ostracized. She couldn’t allow that to happen to her daughter.

  “It’s going to be all right,” Wanda reassured her. “Just you wait and see.”

  With all her heart, Rayna wished she could believe her.

  Chapter 9

  The instant Parker watched the news story, he reached for his phone to call Rayna. Yet before he punched in her number, he thought better of it. She didn’t know he’d already known. No doubt half of Getaway was blowing up her phone with calls.

  She’d need him. In person. Or, he amended, she’d need a friend. He grabbed his keys and his helmet and hopped on his bike.

  When he got to her street, the news vans were parked at the curb, her house under siege as they waited for her to step outside. He noticed they were careful not to venture onto her private property.

  Pulling up, he rolled into the driveway and killed the bike’s engine. Immediately, three reporters, two men and one woman, stepped out of the vans with microphones in hand, cameramen right behind them.

  He ignored them and walked to the front door. As he knocked, he wondered if Rayna would assume he was a reporter and refuse to answer. Just in case, he shot her a quick text message to let her know.

  It must have worked,
because a moment later, she opened the door. Staying behind it so she remained shielded from the street, she motioned him inside.

  “Did you see the news?” she asked, her anxious expression at odds with her calm tone.

  Instead of answering, he pulled her close and hugged her. After the first moment of shock, she relaxed and hugged him back. They stood like that, locked in each other’s embrace for a minute or two, until Wanda clearing her throat interrupted them.

  Reluctantly, Parker let Rayna go.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” Wanda asked brightly.

  “Mom.” Rayna shook her head. “Could you give us a moment?”

  “Sure.” Wanda disappeared. A moment later, they could hear her talking to Lauren.

  “Parker.” Rayna touched his arm, drawing his attention back to her. “What are you doing here?”

  Aware he had to try to keep it casual, he shrugged. “I saw the news story and thought you might need some support. Judging from the reporters camped out in front of your house, I was right.”

  “Yeah.” Her shoulders sagged. “I need to call the station and ask a couple of my officers to come here and get them to disperse. But I haven’t, because I’m not really sure how my own people are going to react to me now.”

  “They’ll support you.”

  “Do you think?” Still, she didn’t raise her head. “My old team down south sure didn’t. Honestly, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  “Look at me, Rayna,” he ordered. He waited until she raised her gaze to meet his before continuing. “You’ve proved yourself to be competent and fair. From what I’ve seen, you’re a damn fine sheriff. They know that. They have to know that.”

  “Oh, I hope so.” But her expression didn’t appear hopeful.

  Parker’s phone rang. He glanced at it, surprised to see it was Sam. He held up a finger at Rayna and answered it.

  “What the hell is going on down there?” Sam demanded. “I’ve been getting phone calls from reporters for the last couple of hours, all wanting information about Rayna. I’ve been trying to call her, but she isn’t answering her phone.”