Texas Ranger Showdown

by Margaret Daley

  “Coherent?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can Sean and I see him? His grandmother will want to know how he is. I’d like to say I talked with him.”

  Chief Franklin nodded. “But not until he comes out here. This is a crime scene and will need to be processed. The killer has been in your grandmother’s house.”

  Caitlyn turned to Sean. “Will you please escort Emma over here so she can see for herself Ian will be okay?” When he left and she and the police chief were alone on the porch, Caitlyn asked, “How do you know?”

  “A photo with the words Stop me! was left on a pillow in a bedroom. It appears to be your grandmother’s room.”

  “Who’s the victim?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can I see if it’s one of my patients?” She prayed it wasn’t.

  Chief Franklin watched Sean bringing Emma across the yard. “Later. I don’t want others to see it.”

  At that moment, a paramedic pushed against the screen door as he guided the gurney out of Granny’s place. Caitlyn hurried to Ian, a white bandage around his head. His gaze flicked to hers, and the pain she saw in his eyes tested her resolve to stay strong. All she wanted to do was hold him.

  Give him the comfort he has given me. Please, Lord, heal Ian and help us find the killer. Neither one of us will rest until the guy is brought to justice.

  The EMTs stopped at the top of the porch steps while Emma mounted them with Sean behind her.

  His grandmother’s eyes filled with tears. She touched his chest. “Sean and I will be at the hospital. I’ll take care of you.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then pivoted around to Sean.

  He hugged her. “Don’t worry about the ladies. I’ll take care of them.” Then in order for the paramedics to take the gurney down to the sidewalk, Sean led Emma down the stairs so they could get out of the way.

  Ian’s attention swiveled to Caitlyn. “I’m okay. Have a police officer take you to the hospital. Sean will need you.”

  She took his hand and held it between hers. “I’ll take care of your family. I know how your brother feels about hospitals.”

  Chief Franklin clasped her arm and urged her away from the gurney. “I’ll take her, Ian.”

  “Thanks,” Ian murmured, then closed his eyes as the paramedics maneuvered him down the steps.

  Caitlyn stared at them leaving. “His wound is bleeding through the bandage.”

  “Head injuries can bleed a lot. He’s tough.”

  She slanted a look at Chief Franklin. “I want to see the photo before we go to the hospital. This killer has got to be caught.”

  He scanned the area. “Let’s go to my car. I don’t want anyone in the gathering crowd to see the picture.” As the police chief escorted her toward his SUV, several neighbors approached.

  “Chief, what’s going on?” a lady who lived across the street asked.

  A man Caitlyn recognized from the newsroom at the station stepped in front of the group forming around her and the police chief. “Does this have anything to do with the ‘Stop me’ killer?”

  “No comment at this time.” Chief Franklin took hold of Caitlyn’s upper arm and navigated a path for them through the people.

  When she settled in the passenger seat in his vehicle, his cell phone rang. She stared out the side window while he spoke with the sheriff. Could the killer be watching or in the crowd? She took out her cell phone and took several photos of the throng to show Ian.

  The picture of him lying on the gurney popped into her mind. Head wounds could be serious. In a short time, he’d become important in her life again. He was trying to solve the case and keep her safe, but what she was feeling for him was more than gratitude. It was wrapped up in emotions that she’d buried many years ago when she’d left in the summer she was eighteen.

  Once Chief Franklin finished his call, Caitlyn swung her gaze from watching Sean escort Emma, Granny and Alice to Ian’s SUV to the police chief. “That reporter said the ‘Stop me’ killer. When did that start?”

  “That’s the first I heard it. We’ve played down what the killer has been writing.”

  “Maybe he heard about that call on my show.” Caitlyn focused on the ambulance pulling away from the curb. “Do you know how the killer got into my grandmother’s house?”

  “No. The doors and windows were closed and locked.”

  “Someone had a key?”

  “That’s definitely a possibility.”

  “The same as my office.” The realization the killer could be someone close to her robbed her of breath for a long moment. Her lungs burned, and she finally inhaled. In a panic, she searched for her purse for a few seconds until she remembered it was still in the den. “How? I have only two sets of keys. One in my purse and the other...”

  “Where?”

  “In my locked desk at my office.”

  “Which was broken into this morning. Were they there when you were cleaning up?”

  She closed her eyes and tried to remember what she’d found when she put her desk items back in place. Mentally she was back in her trashed office, sitting at her desk putting the notepads, pens and pencils back in the drawer. Her hand brushed against her set of keys. “Yes, they were in the very back. Everything else had been thrown on the floor.”

  “But not the keys. Interesting.” The police chief started his car and drove away from Granny’s house.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “If the keys were the only item left in your drawers, I guess he could have overlooked them, but I don’t think so, since that seemed the way he got into your office.”

  “So, it’s someone who could somehow get access to my keys either in my purse or office.”

  “They could have made an impression of them and had your keys duplicated.”

  She was the prey. She had to figure out who the killer was before he did it again.

  At a stoplight, Chief Franklin passed her a clear evidence bag with a photo in it. “Do you know who this is?”

  As she stared at the young woman posed like the others, her heart felt as though it had sunk into her stomach. “Yes. It’s one of my patients. Missy Quinn. I just saw her yesterday. She and her husband moved here five months ago from Dallas. They’d wanted a quieter, safer community.” Her gut roiled at the irony of that.

  “Do you know her address?”

  “Not off the top of my head, but the receptionist at the clinic should still be there, and she could pull it up for me.” Caitlyn called and jotted down the information the receptionist gave her on Missy Quinn, and Caitlyn gave it to the chief.

  “Have you met her husband?”

  “No.”

  “Do you mind if we take a short detour to see if her husband is home? I promise I’ll get you to the medical center right after that.”

  Caitlyn glanced at her watch. It’d only been a few minutes since they had left Granny’s house. “That’s fine. I’ll call my grandmother and let her know we’ll be late, but if there is any bad news concerning Ian, she should call me.”

  As Chief Franklin made a U-turn and headed for the Quinns’ house, Caitlyn got ahold of her grandmother and told her she would be there a little late. “How’s Ian? Have you heard anything?” she asked to keep Granny from trying to find out what she was doing. She couldn’t tell anyone but Ian who the victim was until the family was notified.

  “The doctor is checking him out right now. I can’t believe the killer was in my house. I don’t know if I want to live there anymore.”

  “Just make sure Officer Collins and Sean stay with you, Emma and Alice. I’ll be there soon.” Caitlyn disconnected the call as the chief pulled up to the Quinns’ home.

  The neatly trimmed yard with splashes of floral color everywhere was the same as that time she’d visited Missy at her house—perfect. According
to what Missy had told her, she didn’t work outside the home but spent a lot of time in her yard when the weather permitted. Caitlyn fought the grief threatening to overwhelm her. She had to remain focused on the case if she wanted to help them solve the murders.

  When Chief Franklin rang the doorbell, no one came to answer it. After pressing it again and waiting another few minutes, he tried to peek inside the front window but the curtains were drawn. “I’ll have to come back later. Do you know where Missy’s husband works?”

  “In Dallas, somewhere. I don’t know a lot about him. They’ve been married a couple of years and have moved around a few times.”

  “I’ll have an officer drive by occasionally to see when he comes home. If there’s a wreck on the highway, the Dallas commute can be a lot longer.”

  “Yes, I’ve been stuck in it before.”

  “Who hasn’t!” Chief Franklin opened the passenger door. “Let’s get to the Longhorn Medical Center.”

  As he pulled away from the house, Caitlyn looked at the home Missy had made so inviting and cheerful. When Caitlyn turned away to look ahead, for a split second she thought she saw the curtain in the large picture window move. She swiveled back around, but everything seemed in place. Was Missy’s husband or someone else in the house? Or was she imagining things? She was so tired it seemed anything was possible.

  NINE

  As Sean pulled the SUV up to the covered exit at the medical center, Ian sat in the wheelchair with Caitlyn standing next to him, her hand on his shoulder. His head pounded despite the medication he’d taken. But this hadn’t been the only injury and stitches he’d gotten during his career in law enforcement. He would work through the pain and find the killer.

  “Who’s with Sally and Nana?” he asked after settling onto the back seat.

  Caitlyn slipped into the front. “Chief Franklin has assigned an officer to Emma’s house whether you’re there or not.”

  “Good. Because I don’t intend to sit at Nana’s long. I’ve got a killer to find, as well as a third victim.”

  Caitlyn twisted around, frowning. “Your doctor told you to take it easy.”

  “I will when I get this guy.” When the police chief had shown up this morning in his hospital room to fill him in on what happened the past eighteen hours, he’d informed him that Greg Quinn hadn’t turned up at his house. Franklin was heading over there with a search warrant. There was a good possibility Missy’s body was inside. “In fact, Sean, we need to swing by the Quinns’ house. Chief Franklin is there to search the place.”

  Sean slanted a look at Caitlyn.

  “If you don’t, I’ll drop y’all off at Nana’s, and I’ll drive myself.”

  Caitlyn nodded, and his brother made a sharp right-hand turn, driving away from Nana’s.

  The previous night, neither grandmother had said much, which was most unusual, especially for Sally. “How’s Nana and Sally taking this?”

  “I’m afraid they’re trying to figure out how to lay a trap for the killer. Every time I come into a room, they go quiet. The police officer at the house is there more to keep them inside.”

  “And poor Alice is being dragged into their scheme,” Sean muttered as he parked in front of the Quinns’ house behind a sheriff’s car.

  Before anyone else could move, Caitlyn jumped out and opened Ian’s door, then stood in his way. “You’re not going inside without me.”

  Ian ground his teeth. “I can walk by myself despite being wheeled out of the medical center.”

  She crossed her arms. “That’s my condition.”

  Ian scooted to the edge of the seat. “I’m not in charge. You’ll need to ask Chief Franklin. What he says goes.”

  Caitlyn nodded and offered her hand to Ian. He took it and slowly stood next to the car. His dizziness last night had abated at least, but the throbbing still hadn’t. “Let’s go. We’ll be back in a while, Sean.” He blocked out the extra jolt his walking produced by concentrating on the beautiful woman next to him with her arm around him, as though she could prevent him from collapsing. “Remember you have to convince the police chief.”

  “No problem. Y’all need me. I’m the only connection to all three women that we know of. Missy didn’t go to our church. She spoke little of getting involved in anything in Longhorn. I got the impression she stayed home most of the time, except for coming to see me once a week.”

  Ian took his time mounting the porch steps. He’d realized in the short walk to the house that once he’d gone through the place, he would need to go home and rest, but only for a few hours, he hoped.

  When they moved into the small foyer, the sheriff came from the living room to the left and approached Ian. “Why am I not surprised you’d show up the second they let you out of the hospital?” He shifted his amused look to Caitlyn. “And you brought your sidekick.”

  She chuckled. “He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s in pain and should be resting.”

  “That figures. But I can save you the grand tour. Missy Quinn isn’t here, and neither is her husband. Their bedroom is the only room you might want to see. Don is in there with another officer processing it.”

  “Missy’s body?” Ian started toward the hallway where the police chief was gathering evidence.

  “Not here, but it could be the crime scene.” Tom followed them.

  At the doorway into the bedroom in question, Ian paused and turned toward Caitlyn. “Stay here until Chief Franklin is finished with the room.”

  “Actually, I could use her opinion on a note I found in the kitchen. It may be what caused her husband to kill her.”

  “You’re sure Greg Quinn is the killer?” Caitlyn asked the sheriff.

  “It’s looking that way. We’ve got a BOLO out on him and his car. We discovered he never showed for work yesterday or the day before that.” Tom, walked with Caitlyn.

  Ian slowly moved into the bedroom, his attention riveted on the tousled bed with bloody sheets. As he took in the scene, he stopped at the mirror over the dresser. Written across it was one word: Done. Strange. This was likely scribbled across the glass before the photo was left on Sally’s pillow. In that picture the usual words Stop me! were jotted down like the other two left for Caitlyn. So why Done now? Was the killer through?

  Chief Franklin came out of the bathroom off the bedroom holding an evidence bag. “I’ll use the brush to match DNA with the blood on the sheets.”

  “Was their evidence of a break-in?”

  “No, not like at Kelli’s house. Tom found an incomplete note in the kitchen. I think the husband discovered her trying to leave him. Maybe he killed her and then left. It looks like a lot of his clothes and two pieces of luggage are gone. I’m expanding the search for him to include the whole country. He has a good head start on us.”

  “He could be in Mexico by now or halfway around the world.”

  “Yeah, we’re taking that into account.”

  Ian kneaded the side of his temple. “We need to find Missy’s body. Any indication where it could be?”

  “Other than it’s not in the house, no. He could have taken her with him and dumped her in another state. I can’t imagine him keeping her long.”

  “The smell would become overpowering. What do we know about Greg Quinn?”

  “Not a lot. Surprisingly, there isn’t a lot of information here. Some current bills and a few photos.”

  “Who did he work for?” Ian withdrew the pills he’d been given for pain and popped one into his mouth.

  “The Davis Construction Company. He’d been hired six months ago right before they moved to Longhorn. Now, do me a favor—go home and rest. I’ll come by later and give you a rundown of what we’ve found. You’re pale and I can tell you’re in pain.”

  “But—”

  “No argument. We can thank God we at least know who the killer is and that he’s pr
obably long gone from here.”

  “Maybe.” Ian rotated slowly and headed for the hallway. He’d feel better when they found Missy’s body and Greg. With people he cared for touched by this, that would be the only way he would consider the case closed.

  “Tell Caitlyn I’d like her to be there too. She knows Missy better than anyone else I’ve talked to. Every one of the Quinns’ neighbors said the same thing. They rarely saw them, except Missy working in the yard from time to time. They kept to themselves.”

  In the hallway, Ian stopped. “How about Greg at work?”

  “I’m going to visit the construction site he was working on and interview the other workers. All the boss said was he did a good job and was quiet.”

  As Ian made his way to the kitchen, he slowed his pace. As much as he wished otherwise, he was light-headed and needed to rest at home, then tackle the case again later today. When he found Caitlyn with the sheriff, she handed the note to Tom.

  “It sounds like Missy. I knew she was troubled, but she didn’t share much with me since she began coming to see me.”

  “How long ago was that?” Tom asked.

  “Around five months ago.”

  “Thanks for your input, Caitlyn. You’d better go before Ian collapses.”

  Ian allowed Caitlyn to wrap her arm around his middle. He leaned on her a bit. “Let’s go home.” When he said those words to her, it felt so right. For years it had been hard for him to share himself, but with Caitlyn he realized he’d been purposefully keeping people at arm’s length. He’d allowed his job to make him cynical and leery of trusting anyone. It had become easier to turn inward, leaning away from his family and people who had known him as a different person—carefree, trusting.

  * * *

  After reviewing all her files, Caitlyn decided to review certain patients’ folders again. But not anymore today. She’d hardly left the game table in the den since she and Ian had returned from Missy Quinn’s house. Earlier he’d been working on the killings, running down leads over the phone and making a list of clues involving each victim. If she hadn’t insisted he take a short nap, he would still be across from her, trying to act as though his head wasn’t hurting. But she saw the pain in his eyes every time she looked at him, which she was doing more than she perhaps should.