by Joanna Wayne
She swatted at a mosquito around her face.
“As soon as we leave this clearing the mosquitoes will get much worse,” he cautioned.
“Mosquitoes, spiders, snakes. I can’t believe anyone would come here for afternoon delight.”
She stamped a few feet farther. He hurried to catch up with her before she disappeared into the thick foliage.
“Oh, no!”
He raced to her side. “What is it?”
She pointed to a spot a few feet in front of her. “What does that look like to you?”
“The first rays of morning sun glinting off fancy taillights.” He swallowed the curse that flew to mind. “How in the hell did someone get a vehicle down here?”
“And why?” Sydney added.
It was easy to tell it was dread and not curiosity that edged her voice.
The incline grew steeper and he took her arm to steady her as they approached the wreckage. The body of the car was almost invisible until they were close enough to touch it, hidden by the branches and the trunks of young trees it had knocked down as it plummeted.
He lifted a large limb off the roof. “A late-model SUV,” he noted.
She trembled. “That’s Rachel’s car.”
“Are you sure?”
She didn’t answer but pushed past him and tried to open the dented driver’s-side door. When it wouldn’t budge, she peered through the dirty windows.
“I must have dropped the flashlight when I fell. I need it. I can’t see inside.”
“Let me try the door,” he said.
She moved away. He tried the back door and it opened easily.
“Careful what you touch,” she cautioned. “There could be fingerprints inside where it’s dry and not exposed to the elements.”
As apprehensive as she was, she was on top of her game. Tucker took a quick look inside.
No body. No obvious bloodstains. He breathed easier and stepped back while she crawled inside the back seat. When she got out, she leaned against the car with her good hand and took a few deep breaths before speaking.
“Do you have your phone with you?”
He reached in his pocket and handed it to her.
Seconds later, she had Jackson Clark on the phone and she was back in control. Nothing wimpy about FBI agent Sydney Maxwell.
* * *
“AS SOON AS I get cleaned up and properly bandaged, I want to pay a visit to Dudley Miles,” Sydney announced.
“Fine by me. I like the man, but I don’t see what you’re going to get out of it.”
“Hopefully the same kind of confidence in him you have. I’m not accusing him of anything, but the strange coincidences are becoming a frightening pattern. How do you explain Rachel’s wrecked car being found in almost the same spot as his grandson’s body was found?”
“Dudley had nothing to do with his grandson’s death or the disposal of his body. The woman who did is in prison.”
True, if all the suppositions in that case were true. But what if they weren’t? What if someone else was involved? What if the guilty person had never been arrested or even accused?
She and Tucker had spent an hour at the waterfall discussing the case with Jackson, Agent Rene and Sheriff Cavazos. Jackson had called Cavazos in an effort to keep local law enforcement involved. Cavazos was as insistent as Tucker that Dudley Miles was spotlessly clean.
Her conscience wouldn’t let it go.
“It’s also urgent I talk to Dani,” Sydney said. “She may have been the last person to see Rachel before she disappeared.”
“What about stopping at an emergency care clinic? There’s one on the highway just past where they put in the new dollar store.”
“I’m not running to a clinic for a few scratches. Like I said, I’m sure Esther has first-aid supplies. You’d have to living on a ranch, wouldn’t you?”
“Yep. And if that doesn’t do the trick, I can call a vet. They make house calls.”
“Ha. Ha.”
She shifted in the seat and put her hand to the small of her back.
“You must be sore after that fall,” Tucker said.
“Nothing an aspirin or two can’t fix.”
And a week in a back brace. But she’d worked hurt plenty of times when there was not nearly as much at stake.
Her next hurdle would be explaining everything to Esther. Not only was Sydney not a sweet and harmless travel writer, she might bleed all over her sheets.
All small stuff. The only thing that really mattered was finding Rachel and the rest of the missing. Her hand was already on the door handle when Tucker stopped at the gate to the Double K Ranch.
“I’ve got it,” Tucker said. “A real cowboy never lets the bloody wounded do the work.”
“More of the cowboy code?”
“If it’s not, it should be.”
She watched him unlatch the gate and swing it open. It was midmorning now and the sun glistened on his shirtless shoulders and chest. His muscles rippled. Bull-rider muscles, and he’d be back to that soon.
But for now, he was making it clear he was all hers. The shocker was that she was thankful to have him around.
* * *
TUCKER PLOPPED DOWN on the top slat of the corral and hooked the heels of his boots on the bottom slat. He’d left Sydney back at the house getting her wounds cared for by Esther and Pierce’s wife, Grace. No doubt, she was going through the same grilling he’d just endured with his brothers.
“Now you know as much as I do about the investigation,” Tucker said.
Pierce pushed his straw work hat to the back of his head. “Sydney sounds like one smart, tough woman, but this has got to be really rough on her. Glad she finally confided in you.”
“Amazing that she and Dani connected so fast,” Riley said, “or was that more than coincidental?”
“The scant paper trail Sydney has on Rachel indicates that that the bakery is the last place she used her credit card.”
“Does Dani know that?” Riley asked.
“Not yet. She will soon. We’re heading that way soon. Sydney is hoping Dani remembers her and might know if she was alone or with someone. Any clue would be helpful.”
“Film from the security camera might show that, even if Dani doesn’t remember,” Riley said.
“This is really starting to hit close to home,” Pierce said. “I’m not sure I want Grace running the roads by herself or just with Jaci until the freaky lunatic is caught.”
“And I may hang around the bakery a little later in the morning,” Riley said. “Keep my eye on things until the customers start piling in and Constance leaves for school.”
Tucker jumped off the fence, his boots digging into the carpet of grass as he landed. “It’s guaranteed I won’t be telling Sydney what she can and can’t do.”
“She’s FBI,” Riley said. “What do you expect?”
“Exactly what is going on between you two?” Pierce asked.
“Basically, what I’ve already told you. I forced my way into her life and she hasn’t kicked me out yet.”
“It’s a little more than that,” Pierce said. “You arrived here in a serious funk.”
“Was it that obvious?”
Riley socked him in the arm. “Was it ever, bro? You weren’t yourself at all. We figured it had to be woman problems to bring you that low.”
He’d come here for his brothers’ feedback on the indecision that plagued him. Now was probably as good a time as any to talk about it.
“You remember me talking about my rodeo buddy Rod the last time I was here?”
“Yeah,” Pierce said. “You said he was one of the best bull riders on the circuit this year and a really great guy. Said he was giving you your roughest competition this y
ear.”
“He was. He died last week.”
Riley dropped his favorite curse word when not in mixed company. “Was it work related?”
“Yeah. Six seconds into the ride on the meanest and biggest bull in the night’s contest. His form was perfect. The crowd was on its feet. This might have been the closest any of them had ever come to seeing a perfect score.”
“Man, that had to be tough to watch.”
“The worst.”
“At least he died doing something he loved,” Riley said.
“He died leaving a wife with no husband and three young children with no father. After watching Rod take his last breath, I had to drive to their house in Lubbock and give them the tragic news.”
“That explains and justifies the funk you were in,” Pierce said. “Wouldn’t be much of a man if that didn’t get to you.”
“Then I must be a hell of a man.”
Riley put his arm around Tucker’s shoulders. “I’ve never doubted that.”
“Watching Rod die has made me rethink a lot of my life choices.”
“Does that mean you’re thinking of giving up bull riding?” Pierce asked.
“I’m considering it. I haven’t made a decision.”
“That’s a big one,” Riley said. “I was worried if I could give up my rambling ways when I met Dani. It didn’t take her long to convince me she was the one thing I’d always been searching for.”
“If I had a woman like Dani who loved me, I might feel the same.” Or maybe not. Bull riding had been his life for years.
“You might have to give yourself a chance to fall in love,” Pierce said.
“Maybe I will.” He couldn’t deny that Sydney was getting to him, but she was firmly planted in her career. He couldn’t see her giving that up to follow a bull rider from town to town.
“I better get back to the house,” he said. “Sydney will be ready to roll again. It almost killed her to take time out from the investigation long enough to change out of her bloody clothes.”
“Understandable and admirable,” Pierce said. He clapped Tucker between the shoulders—a man’s hug when they were afraid a real hug would let too many of those pesky emotions escape.
“I’m available to talk about anything if you want to toss possibilities around. I can’t tell you what to do, though. That has to come from inside yourself.”
“Same here,” Pierce said. “Whatever you decide, I’ll back you fully and put you to work on the ranch while you’re deciding what to do next.”
Both were as supportive as Tucker had expected. He was as undecided as ever, but being with Sydney and seeing what she was up against had left him with no time or energy for courting the blues.
“We’ll talk more later,” he said, turning to go.
“Do you mind if I call Dani and give her a heads-up on why Sydney is really in town?”
“No. It’s out in the open now. If you miss anything, Sydney will fill her in when we get there.”
“Be careful out there, bro,” Pierce called.
That was number two on his agenda. Number one was keeping Sydney safe.
* * *
THE BELL ABOVE the door tinkled as Sydney and Tucker stepped inside Dani’s Delights. The place was far more crowded than it had been yesterday. Tables had been pushed together on the left side of the room, accommodating at least a dozen women.
Most looked to be in their fifties and sixties and they were all talking and laughing at once and sipping whipped-cream-topped iced lattes. The rest of the crowd was a mixed bag of people—all ages, both genders, most in shorts or jeans, a few in suits.
When Dani spotted Sydney and Tucker, she untied her ruffled white apron and waved them to the counter where she was finishing up with a customer.
“I have everything you ordered, Mrs. Miles, and tell your husband I put a complimentary oatmeal-raisin cookie right out of the oven in there for him.”
“Thank you. That’s Dudley’s favorite.”
“I know. He checks in to see if I have them a couple of times a week.”
Sydney stared at the rail-thin woman Dani was talking to. That had to be Angela Miles’s mother. Only with her pale complexion and the deep wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, she looked years older than Sydney would have expected.
She took her package of pastries from Dani and walked out of the shop looking straight ahead as if avoiding eye contact with anyone in the crowded shop.
Sydney couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It surely broke her heart to lose her grandson so tragically, and then lose her daughter to the bars of a prison cell.
Tucker sidled up to the counter. “Hate to interrupt business, Dani, but can you spare a few minutes to talk? It’s important.”
“I’ll make time. Tammy can handle things for me.”
The young woman who was boxing giant cinnamon rolls dripping with creamy frosting assured her she could.
“We can talk in my office behind the kitchen,” Dani said. “It’s small but a little quieter than it is in here. Plus we’ll have some privacy.”
“Perfect.” Sydney joined Dani behind the counter. It was obvious Dani had talked to Riley, which meant one less painful explanation Sydney would have to give concerning Rachel and the investigation.
They followed Dani through the spacious kitchen with its giant ovens and long, wide counters for rolling out dough and mixing batter. The equipment and tools of the trade that were in plain sight were all shiny and sparkling clean.
Dani perched on the corner of her desk. Sydney and Tucker took the two metal folding chairs.
“Can I get you guys some coffee? Or food?”
“We’ve been at Esther’s,” Sydney said.
Dani laughed. “Enough said. No one ever leaves there hungry.”
“I suppose Riley told you my real name is Sydney Maxwell.”
“He did. In fact, he did a good job of catching me up on the situation.”
“I should apologize for lying to you when we met.”
“No need to apologize. You had good reason. Besides, the instant bond I felt with you had nothing to do with your name. I still expect us to be friends.”
“I appreciate that.”
Dani stared at Sydney’s bandaged hand. “Could I get you some ice or lotion or some antibiotic cream before we get started? Or something for pain? Riley said you took a bad fall this morning.”
“My elbows got the worst of it. Hence the long-sleeved blouse in ninety-five-degree weather. But none of the cuts are deep. No stitches needed and Esther and Grace gave me the full first-aid treatment. I’m fine.”
“If you change your mind, I have some Tylenol. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear about your sister. I became positively ill when Riley told me.”
“It’s not been easy,” Sydney admitted. “I just have to think positive and stay focused on finding her. That’s the reason I stopped by your bakery yesterday.”
“So,” Riley said, “do you have a photo?”
“I do.” Sydney slipped Rachel’s photograph from the inside pocket of her handbag and handed it to Dani. “Do you remember seeing her? She was in here on Saturday, September 14, around two fifteen.”
Dani scrutinized the picture for several seconds before responding. “She was in here. I remember because she was interested in the same pottery collection you asked about. She bought one of my favorite pieces, an odd-shaped bowl in a terra-cotta glaze.”
“Was she with anyone?”
“Not that I remember, but I can’t say for sure. I don’t even remember if she sat down or if she picked up something to go. We were particularly busy that Saturday. Several of the stores had sidewalk sales to get rid of their summer items.”
“Do you remember if Rachel mentioned a
nything about going to a resort in Austin?”
Dani shook her head. “I’m drawing a blank. If she mentioned it, I don’t remember.”
Frustration swelled again. Sydney couldn’t bear another dead end.
“What about film from your security camera?” Tucker asked. “How long do you keep that?”
“At least a month or two.”
“Then you must have it for September 14.”
“I had it until this morning when Sheriff Cavazos came in and asked for all my tapes. I gave them to him. I had no idea at the time that you needed them.”
“Not a problem,” Sydney assured her. “If there’s anything of use in them, I’m sure I can get access.” Through proper channels or around them.
“If it matters, he didn’t just request mine,” Dani said. “One of the women who works part-time at the candle shop came in for a scone right after the sheriff left here and she said he’d requested theirs, as well.”
“Even better. Did Riley mention that the fall that led to my discovering Rachel’s car this morning was in the same area where Angela Miles’s son’s body was found?”
“He did. That’s bizarre but I can’t imagine the two can be connected in any way. You know, I moved here and bought this bakery to have a safe place to raise my niece. I’m beginning to have doubts about the safety factor.”
“Was that Angela Miles’s mother you were waiting on when we came in?”
“Yes, it was. Poor woman. She’s become a shadow of the woman she was before her grandson died. She used to come in and talk to everybody. Now she barely speaks to me.”
“I’m sure she’s heartbroken,” Sydney said.
“I’m sure, but her daughter is a very sick young woman. I just hope she’s finally getting the psychiatric help she needs.”
Sydney and Tucker had thanked Dani for her help and had just stepped out of the shop and back into the blistering sun when Sydney’s phone rang.
“Hello, Jackson.”
“I’m glad I caught you,” he said. “Are you by yourself?”
“No. Tucker is with me.”
“Glad to hear that. I have bad news.”
