Lone Star Christmas Witness

by Margaret Daley

  “Must be the artist in him.” He was so close that his musky scent vied with the aromas of the pine and the beef stew simmering on the stove.

  She looked up into his green eyes and felt lost in them for a few seconds. When she tore her gaze away, she fumbled a painted ornament of Taylor’s family in her hand. Before she could catch it, Taylor leaned toward her and grasped it.

  Taylor held it up for Ben to see. “This is my sad attempt at drawing. Maybe you can give me some pointers.”

  Ben jumped to his feet, grabbed Taylor’s hand and tugged him toward the staircase.

  Sierra exchanged a puzzled look with Robert. “What’s going on?”

  Robert shrugged. “Maybe decorating the tree was too much for Ben. He did help with the lights.”

  “At home he was always in the middle of everything. All I want to do is take his mind off what happened yesterday. No one should go through what he did. He’s only seven.”

  Sierra’s eyes filled with tears. The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs forced her to turn away and swipe away the drops of sorrow now running down her face. She had to be strong for Ben when all she wanted to do was cry until there was nothing left inside her.

  When Ben returned to the living room with Taylor, the child went to the couch, sat and put his drawing pad in his lap. Oscar resettled next to Ben while her nephew began to draw on the paper.

  Sierra put a few more ornaments on the tree and couldn’t bear the suspense any longer. She headed for Ben. “What are you drawing?”

  Her nephew immediately held the pad against his chest. He shook his head.

  Sierra backed away. He’d always let her look over his shoulder when he drew. Was he finally expressing himself about yesterday through his drawing?

  Taylor moved in and whispered to Sierra, “He knew exactly what he wanted. He opened his bag and pulled out his pad and colored pencils, then charged out of the bedroom. We’ll have to be patient.”

  Sierra peered at Ben, his head bent over the pad, his hand continually moving over the paper. “Kat was so much better at being patient than me. It’s something I’m going to have to learn. It’s just... Well, if Ben knows anything about the killer, I want to know, so y’all can catch him as soon as possible.”

  “I do, too, and there’s a possibility he does know something.”

  Her stomach sank. The thought that he did broke her heart. She’d hoped he had retreated into his own world and would only need coaxing to return to them with no knowledge of who the killer was or the full extent of what he did at the clinic. “I think he does. He’s always been curious, always wanting to know the why behind things. I think he saw what happened because he would want to figure out what’s going on.”

  For the next half hour, Sierra, Taylor and Robert finished decorating. Occasionally she would glance at her nephew, engrossed in whatever he was drawing.

  Taylor put the last ornament on the tree and stepped back. “There. It’s done.”

  “We’re missing one thing,” Robert said and dug into his last carton to lift out a crystal star. “We need to put this on the top of the tree. We need a special person to do it, don’t you think, Taylor?”

  “Yeah.” Taylor twisted toward Ben. “I need help with this. Ben, will you put the star up for us? I’ll hold you up.”

  Ben looked at him and nodded, then placed his pad on the couch and turned it over so the drawing was hidden. When he took the ornament, Taylor lifted Ben up high. Her nephew smiled and put the star that reflected all the colored lights on the tree.

  Taylor set him on the floor. Ben darted to the left, removed two decorations from a crowded area on the branches and hooked them on one in the empty space that Sierra left.

  She chuckled. “Now it’s balanced.”

  Ben gave one nod, then went to the couch and held up his drawing.

  Sierra’s throat closed. It was picture of the Christmas tree being decorated by them. He even included himself with Oscar right by his side. For half an hour, her nephew forgot the tragedy yesterday. Will he recover, Lord? Please protect him from further harm.

  * * *

  In a darkened living room, Taylor sat on the couch after checking all the means of entry to make sure the house was locked up tight. Staring at the multicolored lights twinkling on the Christmas pine, he’d forgotten how affected he was when he put up the tree at his dad’s every year. After TJ died, Taylor had brought over all his ornaments and given them to his dad. He couldn’t throw them away, but Taylor never wanted to put up a tree again at his house. He couldn’t take the constant reminder of TJ’s death every December. Yes, he saw the ornaments when he visited his father during Christmas, and that was all he could deal with.

  “Taylor, are you all right?”

  Sierra’s concerned voice penetrated his wall of protection. He peered at her as she entered the room. “Ben is asleep?”

  “Yes. He snuggled up next to Oscar and went to sleep right away. I stayed a while longer to make sure.” She covered the distance to the couch and took a seat near Taylor.

  “That’s good. Rest will help him. I’m glad his fever is gone.”

  “Me, too.” She sighed. “He has enough to handle right now.”

  Taylor covered Sierra’s hand resting on the cushion between them. “And so do you. The bodies will be released soon. What are you going to do about the funeral?”

  “It’s been taken care of.”

  “When?”

  “Kat did it years ago. She wanted me to take care of Ben and not have to worry about the details of a funeral. My sister was very organized and planned for anything she could. Like you, according to your dad. I’m the opposite. All I have to do is call the Byrd Funeral Home. I’ll do it in the morning.” She tilted her head toward him. “The past two days have been hectic with nothing routine about them.”

  “Your concern has been for Ben.”

  “And it has to remain that way. I was encouraged earlier when he drew a picture of the tree and all of us, including Oscar. What am I going to do when he no longer has Oscar to comfort him?”

  He squeezed her hand gently. “I’ve been thinking about that today. I think we should take him to a shelter and let him pick out the right dog for him.” We? Why had he said it that way?

  “Now?”

  “No, we don’t have to right away. Oscar is loving the attention.”

  “Your dad mentioned a friend with possible bull terrier puppies, but they may be gone by now.”

  “I’ll help you get the perfect dog for Ben.”

  And she didn’t doubt that he would. “When I came in, you looked sad. Did something happen? I know you don’t have to keep me informed about the case, but—”

  “It’s nothing about the case.” He turned toward her and laid his arm along the back cushion. “It’s about my son. The holidays can be tough for me, especially since some of the ornaments on the tree are ones TJ made. I gave them to Dad because I stopped putting up a tree after TJ passed. I haven’t decorated one in three years. I was fine until I sat down in here and looked at it.”

  She cupped his face in one palm. “I’m so sorry about your son’s death. No wonder you could relate to me today about the decorations that were destroyed. You know how special they can be.”

  “TJ had cancer and his last year was spent in and out of the hospital. His last Christmas with me, he made me a handful of ornaments while he was in the children’s ward. I was relieved he was able to come home on the twenty-fourth for a week. He put them on the tree that year. The next year, I couldn’t bring myself to.”

  “And if we hadn’t been here, you wouldn’t have this year.”

  He clasped her upper arm. “No. I needed to. I can’t avoid it all my life. TJ was my whole life after my wife died.”

  “I could say I’m so sorry again, but I’m learning words don’t take the p
ain away. Every time I think about not seeing Kat again, I feel numb—like nothing is going to be the same again no matter what I do.”

  Taylor thought back over the past nine years, and he realized that was how he’d felt, but it was different now. “I learned you can’t avoid the stages of grief. By the last year of TJ’s life, I had come to accept Beth was gone. Then TJ was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. He dealt better with it than I did. With Beth, I had TJ to take care of, but when he died, I was totally alone.”

  “How about your dad?”

  “He was always there, but life had to go on. I had a job that required a lot of my time. It helped, but I’m discovering I haven’t accepted it completely yet.”

  “Because of Ben?”

  His throat tightened, trapping the words. Instead Taylor nodded. Her nephew had similarities to TJ, but there were also differences. Ben wasn’t TJ, but Taylor wanted to protect him as though he were his father.

  “That doesn’t surprise me since they’re about the same age. Ben, as I’m sure TJ was, is a special little boy.”

  “Yes,” he finally said in a thick voice, checking his watch. “We’d better go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be another long day. After we go to the clinic, if you want, we can go by the funeral home and make sure everything is set up for your sister.”

  “I need to go by Sue Porter’s house, too. She often helped out at the clinic when we were short. She and Noah don’t have any children, and her family lives in Washington. I want to make sure there are people around her. She didn’t say a lot at the meeting today with the lawyer.”

  “Okay. I’ll let Dallas know he may be here a good part of the day.” No way was Taylor going to leave Ben without a bodyguard.

  Sierra rose first. “I wish Ben and I didn’t have to be protected. We have to find the person behind this, and I’ll do everything I can.”

  “Tomorrow you’ll start with the files. If they were tampered with, then we could have a clue that could lead us to the killer.” Taylor pushed to his feet. “Will you turn on the foyer light? I need to unplug the tree.” After he did, he joined her to go upstairs to grab a pillow and blanket. “I’m going to bed down in the living room so I can keep watch.”

  “Will you get the sleep you need?”

  “Yes. Also, I called the sheriff about having a deputy drive by several times at night.”

  Sierra passed the room Ben was in. She’d left the door cracked. When she pushed it open wider, she peeked inside, then closed it partway. “Still sound asleep. In fact, I don’t think he’s moved since I left.”

  “Good. If there’s a problem, Oscar will let us know.”

  At her door across from Ben’s, Sierra paused, their gazes locking for a long moment.

  “Thanks for listening tonight.” He rarely shared his feelings with anyone, especially someone he’d known only less than two days, but there was something about Sierra that made it easy to talk to her.

  She smiled. “Of course, that means you’ll have to listen to me.”

  He chuckled. “That’s fair. Anytime you need someone, I’m available.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She opened the door and moved into the guest bedroom.

  When she left, he couldn’t get Sierra out of his head. What if he couldn’t protect her and Ben from the killer? What if something happened to either one—or both?

  * * *

  The next morning, Sierra tensed as Taylor pulled up to the clinic after visiting the funeral home concerning her sister’s burial. When she exited the SUV, the yellow crime scene tape used to cordon off the area flapped in the brisk wind. Its sound grated against her nerves. She never wanted to go inside the building again, and yet she had to. If she could discover who the killer was, the threat to her and Ben would be over. Until then they lived in fear. When she’d left him this morning, she’d done her best to make her nephew feel as though everything was okay.

  A SAPD officer guarding the entrance nodded at Taylor and opened the door.

  He paused. “Is Lieutenant Cartwright here?”

  “No, sir, but he should be here in a while.”

  “Thanks.” Taylor entered first and turned toward Sierra, blocking her view of where the first body had been found.

  As she came into the clinic, she kept her attention on the area behind the reception counter. Her heartbeat thumped against her rib cage, making her chest feel tight. Although it was chilly outside, a heat wave rippled down her body as though someone was squeezing the breath from her lungs in front of a fire.

  Taylor closed the distance between them and leaned near. “All you need to do is go to your office. I’m here with you every step. I’m not leaving your side.”

  If this shooting was personal, she was the only one who knew the patients, ex-employees and others connected to the clinic. If one of them came here to kill everyone, she was the best person to help the police find him. “Let’s get to work. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to. Did you find out if Mindy had her keys on her? Were there any patient files at the nurses’ station?”

  “I’ll call Nash. He was supposed to find out, but then Brewer was found dead, and he had to concentrate on that crime scene.”

  “And my house.” The image of the destroyed tree popped into her mind. She determinedly shoved it away. She couldn’t do anything about that, but she could help search for clues about who might have done it.

  As Sierra stepped into her office, she stopped and surveyed the room with locked file cabinets along one wall. Patients’ written files were kept there, along with files on current and past employees as well as anything connected to the running of the clinic. Her sister had insisted on hard copies as well as cyber files.

  She walked to her desk, sat and switched on her computer, inputting her password. Only two other people knew what it was—her sister and Dr. Porter. She ran off a copy of the list of current and past patients, so when she went through the physical files, she would know if any of them were missing.

  As she reached for the list in the printer’s tray, she slanted a glance at Taylor on his cell phone in the doorway talking to Nash.

  “Thanks for the information.” Taylor disconnected his call and turned toward her. “Mindy had her keys in her front pocket. Nash also found a set of keys for the clinic on your sister and Dr. Porter.”

  Sierra blew out a long breath. “Okay.” She headed for the nearest file cabinets and unlocked them. “Did Nash say anything about any files in the clinic?”

  “Yes, there were a few at the nurses’ station and one on Dr. Porter’s desk.”

  “Will you bring them here, so I can file them away and cross them off the list as I go through all the cabinets?”

  “Yes. I’ll be right back.”

  “Close the door,” she said as she went through the first file cabinet. At least with it shut, she felt more insulated from what happened. She needed that to keep herself focused.

  A few minutes later, Taylor returned to the office and set the files on her desk. “Here, let me help. I’ll call out the names as you check to see if they are in the cabinets. It’ll go faster that way.”

  “Sounds great.” She handed him the list, then replaced the files in their proper places before picking up where she left off. “I’m all for getting out of here as fast as we can.”

  Working as part of a team, Sierra went through the task quickly. Taylor stood on the other side of the drawer. His presence comforted her. “I’d like to take the computer with us. If I need to access any file, I can do it from your dad’s, so I don’t have to come back here. If I could, I’d never visit this place again. But I guess Sue and I will have to deal with selling the building and equipment once the clinic is released as a crime scene.”

  “Do you think you’ll have problems finding someone to buy the property?”

  “Maybe, but it’s a
good location.” She was glad she was almost finished. She had only a few drawers left.

  She opened the next one and froze, her gaze fixed on a bomb ticking down.

  SIX

  Twenty-eight.

  Twenty-seven.

  As the number changed to twenty-six, Taylor grabbed her hand. “Run!”

  Sierra blinked but didn’t move.

  Twenty-five.

  Twenty-four.

  “Now!” he shouted and raced for the office door, tugging Sierra along behind him. In the reception area, he shoved the main door open and yelled, “Bomb!” at Nash and the police officer talking a few feet away.

  Sierra snapped out of her daze and kept pace with Taylor as he continued putting as much distance between them and the building. He glanced at Sierra, her face pale with shock.

  Boom!

  The explosion lifted him off the ground and thrust him forward, his connection with Sierra severed. He plowed into the parking lot, bits of the building pelting him, his head striking the pavement. His ears rang. The world swirled. Blackness swallowed him.

  * * *

  Sierra’s eyes fluttered open. She spied Taylor a few feet from her.

  Still.

  Dead?

  She tried to push herself up, but a sharp pain lanced down her right arm. She peered at it. A shard of glass dug into her flesh several inches, blood leaking from the wound. Again, using only her good arm, she attempted to raise herself, but everything around her spun. She immediately closed her eyes, trying to right her world. She couldn’t. She collapsed onto the pavement. All she heard was a buzzing, even when a stranger stood over her, his lips moving.

  The only thing she could think to do was point in the direction of Taylor and hope the stranger would help him.

  Why was a bomb in the back of her file cabinet? Why did it go off right then?

  She rolled her head toward Taylor and glimpsed the man stooping next to him. Nausea churned her stomach, everything rotating. Her eyelids slid closed. She couldn’t look anymore.