“I have a couple of nephews and one niece from my older sister,” Sean said. “Both of my sisters live in Amarillo. I go back home a couple times a year.”
“So you aren’t a novice with kids?”
“No.” He sat across from her.
“I’m an only child. My dad left when I was six, and Mama went back to work as a nurse. I stayed with the next-door neighbor in Galveston when she was working. My best friend lived there.” She looked at her folded hands in her lap. “I didn’t bring you in here to talk about our childhoods, though. I’ve been thinking about what you said about notes or something like that concerning the couple of days my husband worked on your brother’s disappearance. Samuel wrote down everything in a notepad. He went through one a month. I turned over what I found to you, but maybe the most recent one wasn’t in that batch. What date did they end?”
“On the case before Jack. He still had some blank pages, so I thought he hadn’t gotten anything to put in his notes.”
“I’m assuming you read through them to see what’s been going on here. How would you describe the notes?”
“Detailed.”
“You got everything from in here. Mama dealt with the bedroom. A lot of it went into the attic. When the kids get older, they might be interested in Samuel’s items. It’s time I go through them. Mama didn’t throw anything away, so there are things in there that won’t be of interest to Sammy and Camy. I need to weed them out anyway. It gets hot in the attic, so if you can bring the boxes down, I’ll go through them in here. I don’t want my children to see them until I look through his belongings. What do you think about doing that in the evenings after they go to bed? We’ll access the attic through the garage.”
“Sounds good. How many containers are we talking about?”
She remembered taking them up to the attic—a two-week-long project with two toddlers underfoot who wanted her attention. “I estimate there are about sixty or seventy boxes filled with his things from the whole house. I kept some of his clothes, but the majority was given to a homeless shelter. Similar to his notes, he liked to keep everything just in case he might need it later. I’m the opposite. I don’t like clutter, but with children you often end up with some.”
“I don’t see that many boxes being stacked in this room. I’ll start with ten, look through them then put the cartons back in the attic, so if your twins somehow discover them in here, it won’t seem that unusual. What do you think?”
“That makes sense, because Sammy has snuck in here before. If he found out it was his dad’s stuff, he’d want to go through every box.”
“That’s what I figured. Very inquisitive. Good skills for a law enforcement officer.”
She frowned. “I have many years to sway him toward an appropriate job.”
“I thought he wanted to be a Texas Ranger like his dad.”
“He does. But I lost my husband to the job. I don’t want to lose Sammy to it, too.”
“We can’t control death. Life is full of risks, some unexpected. When it’s my time, then so be it. When I started as a law enforcement officer, I made a pact with myself. I wouldn’t worry about death. That didn’t mean I would do reckless things to tempt it. Instead I turned it over to the Lord. He’s in control. Once I accepted that, it gave me a calm, free feeling. Think what would happen if we didn’t have laws and the police to enforce them. Complete chaos. I refuse to live like that.”
“I believe in the law, too. I’m a judge. And what you said is true. I just don’t want to have my child follow in his father’s footsteps. There are other things he could do that will help people but be safer. Look at the rising deaths of law enforcement officers.”
He wanted to argue more, convince her that being a police officer didn’t mean getting killed. “That’s why I turned it over to the Lord. Each time I go out on a call, if I think about being killed, I wouldn’t be able to do my job. I need to remain focused, not be distracted. That’s when things can go wrong.”
“I wish I could. But it’s not that easy.” Aubrey rose and stretched. “I’m going to check on my children.”
He hung back. He couldn’t blame her for what she felt. She’d lost her husband. Remembering back to his childhood, he knew what a husband’s death could do to a family. It had left his mother struggling to make ends meet and to do the job of raising her children by herself. Had he kept part of himself back from the women he’d dated because he was in a job that could be dangerous?
* * *
What had made her say those words about Sammy not being a law enforcement officer when he grew up? She had a feeling when her son made a decision about doing a certain job, she wasn’t going to be able to change his mind. He was as stubborn as she was. Her mother had tried to get Aubrey to become a nurse, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with being one. The scent of blood made her nauseated, so how could she have a job in the medical field? She and her mama had had a few arguments over that, but in the end her mother couldn’t change her mind.
When Aubrey entered the den, she immediately went over to where her children and Mama sat on the floor playing a game of War. She homeschooled her twins, and this game helped them to understand the value of different numbers. “Who’s winning?”
Camy smiled. “I am.”
Aubrey sat between her daughter and son, glancing at the entrance several times before Sean came into the den and took a place across from her.
“Who will play a game of War with me?” Sean glanced at each person in the circle, ending on Aubrey. One corner of his mouth tilted up, and he winked at her.
She chuckled. “Let’s use two decks of cards and we can all play. Abuela will be the referee.”
Camy’s forehead crinkled. “What’s that, Mama?”
“A referee makes sure everything is done right.”
Aubrey’s mother shuffled two decks of cards together then dealt them out. “Remember the rules for our version of War. Aces are number one, therefore the lowest number. The highest number wins. There are no jacks, queens and kings, and if there’s a tie, you battle for all the cards. And last but not least, I’m setting the timer for fifteen minutes. Whoever has the most cards at the end of that time wins. There can be more than one winner.”
Sean rubbed his hands together. “I’m ready to win.”
Sammy followed suit. “No, I am!”
“Y’all are wrong. It will be me,” Aubrey said with a laugh.
At the end of the game, Camy, the quiet one, jumped to her feet, clapping. “I won!”
Sean stood and carried Camy around the den on his shoulders. “The War champion.”
Aubrey started clapping, then her mother and Sammy. Camy smiled from ear to ear. This set the mood for the evening, from the children helping Sean and Aubrey with dinner and cleanup, to story time, with Sean acting out a story that Aubrey read to her twins. It ended with Sean carrying Camy upstairs to her room, asleep. While Aubrey removed her daughter’s shoes and tucked her into bed, Sean went back downstairs to bring Sammy up.
After Aubrey kissed Camy good-night, she left and crossed the hallway to Sammy’s room. She stood in the doorway. Sean had already gotten her son ready for bed. Sean kissed his forehead and straightened. When he turned, their gazes met.
Aubrey’s heart swelled at the thought of how much fun the evening had been. She hadn’t thought of the trial and situation she was in for the last couple of hours. It felt wonderful, but then she caught sight of the Texas Ranger star on his shirt and reality quickly returned full force. She tore her attention from Sean and closed the distance to her son. She bent over and kissed Sammy.
She left her son’s room after Sean and pulled the door nearly closed, leaving a gap of two inches. She moved down the hallway with him, a thoughtful expression clouding his eyes.
“Is something wrong?” She touched his arm.
He stopped and
twisted toward her. “I was just thinking about how much I miss seeing my niece and nephews. Tonight reminded me of the fun we used to have. I didn’t realize I miss having children around.”
“Sometimes you don’t realize what’s important until you lose it. Until now, I’ve taken for granted my freedom to move around as I want without having others with me to protect me or going places without having to assess what dangers lie ahead.”
“You have more than yourself to consider.”
“Being suspicious and cautious are a good part of your life, aren’t they?”
“In some cases more than others.”
“How do you live always assessing your surroundings, looking for something wrong?”
“It comes automatically after a while.” He clasped her hands. “Right now, I’m aware of the stairs to the left of us, a window at each end of the hall, the bathroom wide-open, the kids’ doors ajar and two bedrooms to my right, with one door closed and the other open. Since we brought Sammy and Camy upstairs, Camilla must have gone to her room.”
“Because her door is shut?”
“Yes, and she dimmed the entry hall lights. She does that every night before going to bed.”
“I never thought about that.”
“You probably will from now on.” His eyes lit up as he took in her face.
She inched closer and was comforted when he did, too.
“I’ve seen you in your courtroom at a trial. You’re aware of everything going on. You’re constantly scanning the room.” He released one hand and slid his arm around her waist while dipping his head toward hers.
“I never thought about that, but I do. It’s a habit.”
“Right, a habit,” he murmured close to her mouth. “It’s not a bad one to have. Being vigilant can help save your life.” His breath whispered across her lips, parting them slightly.
Every sense became aware of Sean.
Kiss me.
SEVEN
What am I doing? Sean pulled back. He shouldn’t kiss her, no matter how much he wanted to.
Aubrey curled her arm around the back of his neck and tugged him closer.
All common sense flew from his mind. Cupping her face, he kissed her. And for a few seconds, he forgot his surroundings.
A faint sound penetrated his mind. A door opening.
His training kicked in, and he quickly stepped back, looking right and left. Camilla went into the bathroom. He dropped his hands to his sides, heat flushing his cheeks.
When he looked at Aubrey, a blush tinted her face. “I need to go downstairs and make sure the house is locked up tight. See you in the morning.” He turned to leave.
“Wait!”
He slanted a glance over his shoulder.
“I wanted you to kiss me.”
“And I wanted to kiss you, but it’s not the right time or place. Good night, Aubrey.”
As he descended the stairs, he felt her gaze on him. There was a part of him that wanted to go back up the steps and really kiss her.
He didn’t, but the thought stayed with him as he went through the house making sure every door and window were locked. He’d never worked a case where he’d wanted to, as the saying went, throw caution to the wind. Aubrey’s life as well as her children’s and her mother’s were at stake. But her own words earlier concerning the dangerous nature of his job told him it would never work out between them.
He switched off the alarm and opened the front door. Every night he touched base with the officer on duty outside on the porch, then went out back to check on the one now assigned to the backyard. After they’d talked at the burial ground today, the police chief decided an extra guard at night at Aubrey’s home would be a good precaution. Sean had agreed readily when he left and turned back to look at the burial ground from a distance. The sight indicated that the cartel wanted to control and quiet people.
Now Officer Cal Adams was on the porch and Officer Johnston, new to the guard duty, was on the patio.
“I’m going to bed. I’ll let you know each night. The judge has an alarm system that’s on all the time. It’s connected to the doors and windows. Did Chief Perez give you my cell phone number?”
The young man nodded.
“Good. Thank you.”
Sean went back into the house, feeling better that there were two officers on duty.
As he lay on the couch, he couldn’t shake his thoughts of staring down at his brother’s grave this morning. He still needed to call his two sisters, now that the identification was confirmed by the X-ray of Jack’s arm.
The buried pain rose into Sean’s throat, jamming it. He rolled over onto his side and pounded his pillow as if that would release his frustration and anger. Lord, I don’t think I can forgive the guy who murdered my brother. I’m determined to find him and make him pay for what he did.
* * *
On Wednesday night, Aubrey sat on the floor in her office with a carton of Samuel’s items in front of her.
Sean entered the room, carrying a couple of boxes. “I thought we could go through two more before calling it a day.”
She almost moaned but managed to keep it inside.
Sean touched her arm. “After these we only have thirty to go through. We’re moving fast. I think we can do the rest tomorrow night. You need to call it a night. I’ll finish these. It won’t take me long.”
“No, I should have done this two years ago. As I’m going through his stuff, I’m reliving good and bad memories. A few have made me realize I’m still holding on to anger at my husband for putting his life in danger. The couple of months before his death, he did things he didn’t normally do. The last few days were even worse. He wasn’t getting any sleep. He got angry at everything. The morning of the day he died, he yelled at the kids for making a mess eating at the kitchen table. That wasn’t like him.”
“Do you think it was because of the case he was working on?”
She thought back to the last days with Samuel. Even for him, he’d been unusually silent—even troubled more than usual. Why? Would looking back finally give her answers to her questions?
“Possibly, especially if it had to do with the Coastal Cartel.”
“There are some things that are hard to talk about. Recently Texas Ranger Dallas Sanders discovered a baby-kidnapping ring near San Antonio. His nephew was one of the babies stolen.”
“I know about the case. I’m so glad the people behind it were convicted of kidnapping and trafficking. Do you think something like that is going on here?”
“Sadly, it’s always a possibility. But a lot of my cases involve drugs, both illegal and legal ones, being sold unlawfully.”
Her muscles stiff from sitting in the same position for an hour, Aubrey pushed to her feet and stretched her arms above her head then bent from side to side. After walking around the office, she resumed her place in front of one of the bigger cartons. “Remind me tomorrow to get up and move around after every box.”
“I’ll let you take the boxes back to the attic if you want.”
The impish grin on his face fixed her attention on him for a moment. “You have bigger muscles than I do. I’ll let you keep doing that part.”
He chuckled. “At least I’m not stiff.”
As he continued going through the items, Aubrey again focused on what was before her. A lot of the box’s contents were from Samuel’s days at the University of Texas.
She picked up the Cactus yearbook from Samuel’s senior year and flipped through the pages until she found where she’d written a note in it. They had met when he was a senior and she a freshman. She’d known at the beginning how special Samuel was, although they didn’t marry until her senior year. Now she wished she had wed earlier. He’d wanted to, but she’d been cautious. How could she have fallen in love with him after only knowing him a short time? She’d seen so man
y marriages fall apart because the couple rushed like her parents had, and their union ended in a divorce when she was six. They had dated only four months before getting married.
“Aubrey, is something wrong?”
She blinked at the page she’d been staring at, closed the yearbook and put it to the side. “I’m fine.”
Quickly she reached into the carton and grabbed the first thing she touched. She picked up Samuel’s wallet. She remembered getting it back from the police—instead of looking at it, she’d tossed it into the nearest carton her mother was filling. It had been in Samuel’s back pocket and water drenched. The police had gone through it. There might be something her children might want to keep. She pulled out his driver’s license, Texas Ranger identification card, a credit card that she’d canceled immediately, medical insurance card and photos of the twins and her. The pictures were damaged by water—Samuel had been found submerged in a river—but the other items were plastic and in good condition.
She decided to empty the worn leather wallet and throw it away. As she did, she felt something behind a picture of her, under a flap. She tugged on the piece of leather until she revealed a thin key. It looked like their safety-deposit key, but when she saw the number etched into the metal, it was different from the one they had.
Aubrey held it up. “This is a safety-deposit box key, but not one I know about.”
Sean looked up. Hope flared in his expression. “You didn’t have a second one?”
She shook her head. “It could be one at our bank, but not the one I used. I’ll go get the key I have, and we can compare.” She stood and sat in her chair behind the desk, then pulled open the top drawer. After feeling around, she located the key taped to the wood and held it up. “Not the same. This one has one hole punched in it. The other has three.”
Lone Star Standoff Page 8
