Trace Evidence in Tarrant...

by Delores Fossen

  She certainly wasn't smiling. "That's not standard procedure," Carley pointed out.

  "Standard procedure hasn't us gotten anywhere. It's time to try something they won't be expecting. They might find it hard to point fingers at each other if they're sitting side by side. Plus, we might get lucky and they might get into a no-holds-barred argument. Think of what they might say during the heat of the moment."

  Carley did think about it, and that nearly brought out a smile. "Your plan has some merit."

  "Glad you think so, because we need to decide how we're going to play this. I figured you could be the good cop. I'll be bad."

  "Why?"

  "Why what?"

  "Why do you get to be bad?" she asked.

  He exaggerated an eye roll. "Because I'm the Texas Ranger, the one who can arrest their guilty butts, and they know that. You can pretend to be somewhat protective of them, since you're their sheriff. Plus, you think they're innocent because you believe my father is guilty."

  Sloan said it with such conviction that she almost denied it. Even more, she felt that denial in her heart. Mercy. After holding on to the belief of Jim's guilt for all these years, it didn't feel natural for her feelings to change, even a little. But she did seem to have a different attitude.

  "I'm keeping an open mind about who's guilty of Lou Ann's and Sarah's murders," Carley told him. "And the attempts to kill us."

  He hitched his thumb toward the interrogation room. "They don't know that."

  Sloan was right, and they could perhaps use that to their advantage. "Okay. You win again. You're bad. I'm good."

  There was a rap at the door, and a second later it opened. Deputy Luis Spinoza stuck his head inside. "Leland Hendricks is here."

  "Thanks," Sloan answered. But he blocked Carley's way when she started to get up. He also waited for the deputy to leave before he continued. "One more thing—if I bring up anything from Lou Ann's notes and copied papers, whether it's true or not, I want you to act surprised."

  She tried but couldn't think of a good reason to do that. "Why?"

  "Because that way they'll believe you don't have access to the evidence."

  Nothing could have stopped her from huffing or coming out of her chair. "You're trying to protect me. It won't work. I'm not acting surprised."

  Sloan caught onto her shoulders, Carley tried to sidestep him, and they ended up doing an awkward dance. "It could save your life," he reminded her.

  "And it'll make me look like an idiot, like someone who doesn't have a clue about what's happening in my own department."

  "No. It'll make you look like a sheriff whose authority has been usurped by the Rangers. In addition to giving you some possible protection, it'll also help build that sheriff-citizen bond with Leland and Donna. We need that bond so they'll feel they can turn to you if one of them decides to rat out the other."

  "A bond?" She stopped the dance by pushing him, hard, against the back of the door. It wasn't an ideal position, since she landed against Sloan. Body-to-body contact. Which she ignored. "That's BS."

  "Maybe." Practically off-balancing her, he used his weight to reverse their positions. Her back went against the door. Sloan used his body to pin her in place. He got right in her face. "But I've already told you that I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. So, Carley, act surprised if I say anything about Lou Ann's papers. Deal?"

  "No." She squirmed to break the lock he had on her. Not a good idea. His chest brushed against her breasts, creating a very unwelcome sizzling sensation. She must have rubbed him the wrong way, as well, because he sucked in his breath.

  "No in this case is not an option," Sloan said. Though how he managed to talk with his jaw that stiff, she didn't know.

  "It is an option. Donna already saw me reading those papers when she served us coffee at the diner."

  "She saw you reading papers, period. She has no idea that they belonged to Lou Ann. So you will act surprised if they come up in conversation, and if you don't say yes, I won't let you take part in this interview."

  That brought on a little outrage. "Excuse me?" She tried to move again, but he held her firmly in place.

  "Just agree. If we keep this up, we'll both be so aroused we won't be able to walk. That's hardly the deportment necessary for conducting a crucial interview, now is it?"

  That was like a mental slap back to reality. He was right. Damn him. Body contact with Sloan had a unique way of reminding her that she was a woman, but it did nothing to make her remember that she was a cop.

  "Deal," she agreed through semiclenched teeth. Carley admired his attempts to keep her safe, she truly did, but there was a fine line between safety and not doing her job. She had no intentions of crossing that line.

  Sloan and she took a minute, which turned to several minutes, so they could regain their composure and level their breathing.

  "After this, we need to talk," Sloan informed her. "About sex."

  Carley stared at him. "Sex," she repeated. "You think that's wise?"

  "No. But avoiding it isn't working, either. So sex talk is on the agenda after we do this good cop/bad cop thing with Leland and Donna."

  "We can talk all you want," Carley said. There was haughtiness in her voice, but it was pure facade. "But we're not having sex."

  It seemed as if he changed his mind a dozen times as to what he wanted to say or do. But when he made his move, he moved.

  He reached out, lightning-fast, and hooked his hand around her neck. Sloan hauled her to him and in the same motion he kissed her.

  He took her mouth as if he owned her.

  And Carley let him.

  She stood there, dumbfounded and hotter than summer asphalt, while he used that clever mouth and tongue to remind her that she wanted him. Bad.

  He broke the kiss only when they remembered that they needed air to live.

  "That's why we have to talk," Sloan insisted, gulping in a huge breath. "This attraction is not going away just because it doesn't fit into our career plans."

  "No. It doesn't fit," she agreed. "So what do we do about it? Other than the obvious," Carley added when she noticed that the look in his eyes was primitive and all male. The kind of look a man gave a woman before dragging her to the floor for some great sex.

  Which suddenly sounded, well, great.

  "How do we deal with this?" he asked. "We think of our respective badges. We think about how good it'll feel to toss Donna or Leland in jail."

  Carley did think about it and she nodded. "It's working."

  "Good. Keep at it. Jail. Key. Interview. Good cop. Bad cop. Don't forget the part about acting surprised if anything about Lou Ann's papers come up."

  She repeated those words to herself as she followed Sloan out of the room and across the hall. One look at Leland and Donna and it wasn't hard to recall why they were there. Either one of them could be a killer, and that brought out every facet of Carley's obsession to serve them both a double dose of justice.

  "Am I under arrest?" Leland barked.

  Sloan shook his head. "Not at this exact moment. But it's still early. Give me a few hours."

  "If I'm not under arrest, I'm not staying. I know my rights." He got up to leave.

  "Fine," Sloan fired back. "I'm sure your ex-wife will be more than happy to speculate as to what you were doing last night."

  That stopped Leland in his tracks. He slowly turned back around to face Sloan.

  "And if you stay," Sloan continued, "then you can return the favor. You can speculate as to what Donna was doing out and about until 3:00 a.m."

  Carley could see the spark in Leland's eyes. He wouldn't pass up the chance to take a verbal shot at his ex.

  "Donna doesn't have an alibi for last night?" Leland smugly asked.

  "Nope," Sloan supplied. "But then, neither do you."

  Some of Leland's obvious glee evaporated. "I went out for a drive. Last I heard, that wasn't a crime."

  Carley decided it was time to play her part of the good
cop. "No one is accusing you of anything, Leland. In fact, I think you know where I stand on the subject of who's guilty of these murders."

  Leland looked at her with skepticism, as if she'd just showered him with thousands of dollar bills. "Then why haven't you put a leash on him?" Leland tipped his head toward Sloan.

  "Because the Rangers have authority here," Donna commented. She gave her delicate pearl-and-coral earring an adjustment. "Isn't that right?"

  "That's right." And Carley made sure she sounded riled and disgruntled. It wasn't difficult to do. She was disgruntled. "Sloan and I don't agree as to how to conduct this investigation. Nor do we have the same interpretation of the evidence. For instance, he believes it was you at the inn last night."

  "Specifically I believe you were in the corridor that leads to the kitchen," Sloan added. "I think that's where you fired shots at us."

  With that bit of misinformation, Carley studied both Leland's and Donna's expressions. She was certain Sloan was doing the same. However, if either of their suspects was surprised with that incorrect account of a kitchen vs. a hall shooting, neither showed it.

  Frustrated, Carley pressed them. "I'm sure someone can verify where you were last night."

  "No one," Donna quickly supplied.

  That caused a sneer to form on Leland's mouth. "Probably because you were at the inn, shooting at them. She's good with a gun, you know. Her daddy made sure of that. Used to take her into the woods for target practice right before he sent her off to all those cotillion balls."

  Donna examined her perfectly manicured fingernails and centered a ring that had twisted around. "I have no reason to shoot them. I'm not the one who set up a fake kidnapping and murder. This sort of illegal activity is more your forte, Leland. And, for the record, you're a good shot, as well. If they need proof of that, all they have to do is look at the repaired wall in the family room where you shot holes in our wedding portrait."

  Carley made sure she didn't smile at the verbal banter, but it was hard to hold back. This was exactly what Sloan and she wanted.

  Sloan sat at the end of the small metal table and snared Donna's gaze. "You know, if the grand jury indicts Leland, you'll have to testify as to what you know about that fake kidnapping plan."

  "Gladly."

  "Well, maybe you won't do it so gladly when you have to testify as to where you got the money that you allegedly were going to use to pay off Lou Ann."

  Donna looked as if he'd slapped her.

  "Oh, I can help with that," Leland offered. That garnered him an icy stare from Donna. "She had a hidden offshore bank account. A huge one that she concealed from me so I wouldn't get my part during the divorce. Here I was fighting for my business, my home, the future of our children, and she hid what should be rightfully mine."

  "It wasn't yours. It was mine."

  Leland made a yeah-right sound. "Money you planned to use to buy your liquor and pills." He turned his gaze toward Carley. "Donna likes the expensive stuff and lots of it."

  If looks could kill, Donna would have murdered Leland with that icy glare. "I haven't had a drink or a pill in years. Once I was rid of you, I discovered I didn't need alcohol or pain medication to get through the day."

  "Oh, so now it's my fault. Come on, Donna." Leland leaned closer to her and dropped his voice. "Admit it. Once a lush, always a lush."

  She leaned in closer, too. "Come on, Leland. Admit it. Once a bastard, always a bastard." The pulse jumped in Donna's throat. "Because of you, our daughter Joey hasn't spoken to either of us in years, and I lost my son to God knows who or what. As far as I'm concerned, hell is too good a place for you, Leland Hendricks." Donna whipped around toward Sloan. "I'll gladly testify against him. In fact, the sooner the better."

  Inside, Carley cheered. Sloan's plan to interview them together was working.

  "Then how about we start now?" Sloan suggested. "Do you have any proof that Leland was anywhere near the inn last night?"

  "No." Donna tucked a strand of her perfectly styled flame-red hair behind her ear. "But he's capable of murder. He's capable of anything."

  "And you're not?" Leland fired back. "That inn is your home turf, Donna. Not mine. Besides, if I wanted someone dead, I wouldn't go prowling around in the dark."

  "How did you know the gunman prowled in the dark?" Sloan fired back. Unlike Donna and Leland, there was no emotion in his voice.

  The room went silent.

  "The shooting happened at night," Leland said, his face strained. "It would have been dark. Hence the prowling comment."

  Donna's pale ruby-colored mouth curved into a smile. Leland obviously saw that smile and he had a reaction. Boy, did he. He hurled some vicious profanity at her, aimed a little more at Sloan and headed for the door. "This interview is over. If you want to talk to me again, call my lawyer."

  With his exit, Donna stood. "That's advice I should take, as well." She spared each of them a glance. "And just let me know when you need me to testify against him." Tucking her trim leather purse beneath her arm, she strolled out the door.

  Carley and Sloan waited until they heard the front door close before they looked at each other. They shared a smile.

  "So is Leland guilty or was that a slip of the tongue?" Carley asked.

  "It's hard to say." He blew out a long breath and propped his elbows on the table. "But I think we need to keep pressing them and, if possible, we need to do that while they're together. That volatility is something else, and it could be their undoing."

  "Yes. But it's my guess we won't get either of them in here without their attorneys."

  Sloan shrugged. "I don't think even their attorneys can hold them back when they're spewing venom at each other. We need to keep pressing," he repeated. His eyes met hers. "That's true with you, too. You need to keep going back to the night of Sarah's murder. What could you have possibly seen that would make a killer want you dead?"

  "Nothing." Carley repeated it. "In fact, the only things I saw were legs and boots. After that, the next thing I recall in great detail is my face falling toward the dirt after I was shot."

  He shook his head. "We're missing something. We have to be or the killer wouldn't be after you. If it's not something you saw the night of Sarah's murder, then maybe it was something sixteen years ago. Go back to the night Lou Ann was killed. Walk through everything that happened before the body was discovered."

  Carley groaned. She didn't want to do this, but obviously Sloan thought it was necessary. "I've already told you that I saw you walking on Main Street that night." And since it seemed stupid to withhold it any longer, Carley finished the rest of the account. "I also followed you for a while."

  Sloan stared at her. Shook his head. Stared some more. "Why?"

  Carley toyed with the notion of stopping, but if she did, Sloan would just press her for the truth. No. It was time to spill the beans. "Because of Johnny Depp."

  He pulled up a chair and had her sit, as well. "Please explain that."

  There was no way to make this sound good or even semigood, so she just blurted out what'd happened. "I was reading that fan magazine and was, uh, thinking romantic thoughts."

  "You were thinking romantic thoughts about me?"

  "Sort of. In a transference kind of way." She paused, frowned. "Okay, now that I've told you that, I'll obviously have to move to another town, change my name and forever live with the embarrassment of just having admitted that I had the hots for you."

  He didn't smile, but that damn twinkle in his eye made her think he was amused. "That's the night I discovered you had breasts. And a mouth."

  That eased some of her embarrassment, but it did confuse her. "O-kay."

  "I dream about your mouth."

  "And what's my mouth doing in your dreams?" she asked cautiously but then held up her hand. "Wait, don't answer that."

  Sloan nodded. "Excellent decision."

  Yes. And it was obviously time to make another decision to drop this subject entirely. Why was it tha
t every time Sloan and she got together the subject turned to either sex or murder? Probably because those were the only things they had in common.

  Lust and the case.

  Except Carley wasn't sure that was true. It was starting to feel like more. Much more. And that frightened her almost as much as not being able to identify a killer and stop that killer from striking again.

  Sloan's cell phone rang, and while she was mulling over her sudden fear of feelings, he answered it.

  "Zane," he greeted. He paused. "Let me click on the speaker so that Carley can hear this." He pressed a button and set his phone on the table.

  "It's not good news, Carley," Zane continued a moment later. "We weren't able to recover any fingerprints from your apartment."

  Even though she'd expected that, she felt the disappointment. A single fingerprint could have lead to an arrest. Still, they had other avenues. "How about gunpowder residue? Did it show up on one or both of our primary suspects?"

  "Nothing there, either. If Donna or Leland fired those shots last night, they were wearing gloves," Zane concluded. "The crime lab also looked at both surveillance videos—the one from the police station and the other from Mildred Kerrville's shop. Nothing definitive, but we've decided to check rental-car places since that dark-colored sedan wasn't local. We might get lucky. In the meantime, I want you two to figure out why this shooter keeps coming after Carley."

  "Carley and I were just going through this. Other than what she's already told us, she doesn't remember seeing anything the nights Sarah or Lou Ann were killed."

  Carley looked at him, mumbled a thanks.

  "It'll cost you," Sloan mouthed, nearly smiling.

  She was afraid of that. She owed him a favor now. Not that he'd pressed her to do something for him. No, that wasn't it. But with each near smile, each secret shared—heck, with every conversation—they were getting closer. Carley could feel it and yet was totally incapable of stopping it.

  The empathetic look Sloan gave her let her know that he felt the same way.

  They were so in trouble here.

  "Then maybe this is just a simple case of the murderer doing overkill," Zane continued. "Carley is the only person who got close to Sarah's murderer that night, and since it's probably someone Carley knows…" Zane let that trail off. "Carley, perhaps you'd be willing to talk with the Rangers' psychiatrist?"