Ranger Redemption

by Lynn Shannon

  “Yes.” Grady beamed. “He’s sucking his thumb. Doesn’t he look like me?”

  “Ugh.” Weston shuddered and winced. “Let’s hope not. Of the two of you, Tara is the better looking one. By far. You better hope all your kids come out looking like her.”

  They all laughed.

  Lieutenant Rodriguez strolled in, and the entire room snapped to attention. Luke took his seat next to Megan. His boss set a notepad and pen down on the table before pulling out a chair.

  “You’re caught up to date on the recent developments in the case?” she asked.

  Heads nodded around the table.

  “Good, because I’ve got another one. The revolver we recovered yesterday wasn’t the only thing stolen from the evidence room. Various contraband, including weapons and controlled substances, are missing.”

  The news wasn’t shocking, but it still felt like a sharp blade in Luke’s gut. Members of the badge were supposed to protect and serve. Those that betrayed the mission didn’t deserve his loyalty or understanding.

  From the tense looks on his colleagues’ faces, they were having the same thoughts.

  “How long has it been going on?” Luke asked.

  “Several years.” Her lips thinned. “And it’s extensive. I had investigators working overnight to prevent the staff and deputies from figuring out what we were looking into. Sheriff Franklin was the only one aware of the new direction our investigation has taken, and he’s agreed to cooperate in any way possible.”

  “How much do we trust the sheriff?” Grady asked.

  “I’ve had a background done on him overnight as well. It’s preliminary, of course, but there are no red flags. Sheriff Franklin even consented to a search of his home and provided information on his bank accounts. It doesn’t rule him out completely, but it makes me a lot more confident that he’s not involved.”

  Beside him, Megan let out a sigh. Luke echoed the sentiment. He liked Sheriff Franklin, and he hated to think the corruption went all the way to the top.

  “Other than the Smith & Wesson, no other contraband was found in Quentin’s room.” Lieutenant Rodriguez nodded in his direction. “Good eyes, Luke.”

  “The inscription on the outside of the weapon made it unique, thank goodness. Otherwise I might not have caught it.”

  Weston frowned. “Which begs the question. Why would Quentin—if he’s the killer—use that particular weapon to murder Franny? It’s easy to identify as being stolen. And why keep it?”

  “Maybe he didn’t realize the gun was unique until later,” Grady suggested. “If that part of the cylinder is under the frame, the inscription isn’t visible. Or could be he simply kept it as a trophy.”

  Weston nodded. “A memory of the kill. Yeah. That works.”

  “There is another possibility,” Luke said. “According to his family, Quentin wanted out of his troubled lifestyle. He started going to Narcotics Anonymous and so forth. Maybe the gun was leverage against the person he was working for. I talked to forensics this morning. There were traces of fingerprint powder on the weapon and it’s not the type used by the state lab.”

  Megan sucked in a breath. “My aunt dusted it.”

  “That’s my guess.”

  “If that’s true, then someone had to tell her where to look.” Lieutenant Rodriguez made a notation on her pad. “Grady, you take the lead on that. I want every single one of Quentin’s friends and associates interviewed. Somebody knows something.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She turned her steel-eyed gaze to Megan. “Did your brother know Quentin?”

  “No. I spoke with my brother’s attorney this morning. Grace confirmed Wade didn’t know him.”

  “Do we know if Quentin was at Franny’s party that night?” Weston asked. “Is there any link between him and Franny other than the murder weapon?”

  “It’s possible they knew each other. Quentin competed in rodeos and Franny’s brother, Chad, is a former bull rider.” Megan frowned. “We should talk to Kyle Franklin. He was a competitive calf roper as well. Maybe he can tell us if he saw Quentin at Franny’s party.”

  “Franklin?” Lieutenant Rodriguez cocked her head. “Is he related to the sheriff?”

  “It’s his nephew. Kyle’s been helpful in giving us information. I think he’ll be willing to share anything he knows.”

  Luke nodded his agreement, and his boss made another note.

  “Good. The two of you can do that this afternoon. Weston, you and I will tackle the Medina County Sheriff’s Department. We need to start at the top with Chief Deputy Dan Carter and work our way down. Alibis, financials, the whole works.” She tapped her pen against the pad. “Right now, I’m going to treat these cases like one. Quentin is the link. Either he killed Franny, or he was working for the person who did.”

  Lieutenant Rodriguez squared her shoulders. “We don’t stop until we find every single person involved.”

  The drive back to Cardin was mostly made in silence. Menacing clouds, thick with rain, greeted them when Luke exited the freeway and took the turn toward Kyle’s property. An occasional lightning bolt lit up the sky. Luke needed to keep his mind on the case, but last night’s conversation with Megan kept creeping in.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was deep in thought, evident from the cute wrinkles above the bridge of her nose. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, gracing him with the sweet curve of her cheek and the long column of her neck. Megan rummaged around inside a bag of jelly beans, popped a few in her mouth, and chewed slowly.

  He loved her. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that, but like the brewing thunderstorm in the distance, harsh realities loomed in their future. What happened if he couldn’t prove Wade’s innocence and get him out of prison? Would Megan leave again? Would the love they have survive a second time?

  Luke didn’t know, and it terrified him. He’d spent half the night staring at her old engagement ring. The warmth of being in her arms, hearing her say I love you, was overshadowed by the case and his past mistakes.

  When he pulled into Kyle’s driveway, Megan whistled. “Wow, he’s made a lot of improvements to this place. The garage is new, and so is the siding on the house.”

  “Yeah. He’s done most of the work in the last year or so.”

  Luke rang the bell. It took a long time for Kyle to come to the door. When he finally did, his hair was disheveled and a day’s worth of bristles darkened his jaw. He was wearing a worn T-shirt and ripped jeans.

  “Sorry.” Megan smiled. “Did we wake you?”

  “No, I was watching a movie. This cold is brutal.” He leaned against the door. “What’s up?”

  “We need to ask you some questions about Franny’s party. Can we come in?”

  Kyle hesitated, glancing back into the recesses of the house. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky followed by a low rumble of thunder and wind scattered pine needles through the yard.

  He opened the door with a sigh. “The house is messy at the moment but okay. Come in.”

  Luke crossed over the threshold and caught a whiff of marijuana smoke. A knot formed in his stomach. He followed Megan into the living room. Empty chip bags littered the coffee table, along with several glasses. One of them held an amber-colored liquid.

  Luke craned his neck toward the back bedrooms. “Is anyone else in the house with you?”

  “Nope. I just don’t do dishes often.” Kyle grabbed a couple of glasses and laughed. “Don’t go in the laundry room. You’ll never make it out alive.”

  Luke chuckled. “I’m not a fan of laundry myself. Still, do you mind if I look around?”

  Kyle frowned and his gaze narrowed. The request made it sound as if he was a suspect, and it clearly put him on edge, but Luke wouldn’t ignore his gut instinct.

  Megan rolled her eyes. “Good grief, all law enforcement officers are the same. Sheriff Franklin used to do the same thing when he visited June.”

  Luke’s expression never chan
ged as the lie tumbled from her lips. Working with Megan for the last week reminded him of how in tune they were. He hadn’t been joking when he told her they made great partners.

  Kyle’s posture relaxed. “Yeah. Come to think of it, I’ve done a couple of ride-alongs with my uncle and he did it then too.” He set the glasses down on the coffee table. “I’ll go with you.”

  He escorted Luke down the hall. The bedroom doors were open. One had been converted to an office. Most of them were neat, except for the master. The bed was unmade and a pile of dirty glasses sat on the nightstand. The television on the dresser was on, a car chase playing out on the screen.

  “Thanks, man,” Luke said. He hadn’t looked in the closets or under the beds, but asking would’ve been pushing it. “Appreciate it.”

  “No problem.”

  They went back into the living room. Megan had straightened the cushions on the couch and gathered the trash into a pile.

  “You don’t have to clean up,” Kyle said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Gosh, this is embarrassing.”

  “I don’t know why.” Megan laughed lightly. “Your nickname in middle school was Pigpen. It’s not like you didn’t come over to our house and make a disaster there every single weekend.”

  “And you used to yell at me about it.” He picked up a dirty plate. “I miss those days. Things were so simple back then, but we didn’t know it.”

  Luke helped them carry a couple of glasses into the kitchen. Rain pattered against the window. The kitchen wasn’t much cleaner than the living room. A half-eaten sandwich and more dirty dishes littered the stained countertop. The tension in Kyle’s shoulders went away. Interesting. He didn’t like it when they were in the living room.

  “What questions do you have for me?” Kyle asked.

  “Do you know a Quentin Perdue?” Megan asked, flipping on the faucet and squeezing dish soap into the sink.

  “Yeah. I met him back when I used to do cattle-roping competitions at the rodeo. But he died last year from an overdose.”

  Luke kept his distance, letting Megan take the lead on questioning. She had a relationship with Kyle that went back to childhood and he was more relaxed speaking with her.

  “Was Quentin at Franny’s birthday party?” She turned off the water. Suds floated in the sink, intermixed with the dirty dishes.

  Kyle frowned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. He stared at the tile floor for a moment. “Yeah, he was. Why?”

  “We received a tip about him.”

  Megan went back into the living room. Luke followed. Kyle bolted after them. His gaze darted toward the hall before settling back on Megan. She picked up another couch cushion and shook it out.

  “Really, Megs—”

  “Did Franny know Quentin?” She put the pillow back into position. “Were they friends?”

  “I don’t think they were close, but yeah, they were friendly. I mean she invited him to her party. But they didn’t hang out often. After Franny stopped going to the rodeo with Chad and Skeeter, a lot of the friends she made there drifted off.”

  Luke meandered over to a bookshelf pretending to examine a baseball trophy. The hallway was clear. Nothing seemed out of place, but Kyle’s spine stiffened.

  “What about Wade?” Megan asked. “Did he know Quentin?”

  “I don’t think so.” Kyle sniffed. “Wade and Franny didn’t become friends until after her rodeo days were over. What’s this all about? What kind of tip did you receive about Quentin?”

  “We’ve learned he might be involved in Franny’s murder.”

  Kyle’s eyes darted back and forth. “Quentin? That’s…that would be weird. I mean, the guy wasn’t a saint. I know he was using drugs way back in the rodeo days, but he never struck me as violent. And he was always nice to Franny.”

  Luke moved back toward the couch and Kyle let out a breath. Something about the bookcase was making him nervous. Megan seemed to notice too because she grabbed an empty bag of chips and crumpled it before reaching for another. Smart woman read his mind. They needed to get Kyle out of the living room so Luke could poke around.

  “That’s good to know,” Megan said. “Did you stay friends with Quentin until his death?”

  “No. Come to think of it, Franny’s party was the last time I saw him.” Kyle frowned. “Seriously, Megs, you don’t have to clean.”

  “You know me. I hate clutter.” She handed him another plate. “Here. If we both do it, we’ll have the place spic-and-span in no time. Remember the time you and Wade played water balloons inside?”

  Kyle chuckled. “June was furious. So were you.”

  “We made you clean the entire living room from top to bottom.”

  Megan strolled into the kitchen and Kyle followed. Half listening to their conversation, Luke crossed the living room. He scanned the bookshelves. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Belt buckles that served as trophies for cattle roping, knickknacks, and a few crime novels.

  A closet was nearby. It was deep enough to be a walk-in and, with the light off, impossible to see inside. Glancing over his shoulder, Luke confirmed Megan and Kyle were still deep in conversation.

  He nudged the door inward with his foot and stepped inside, flipping on the light. He sucked in a breath and his mind took quick mental photos. Marijuana, pills, and white powder intermingled with rifles and handguns. Dangling from a pistol was an evidence tag.

  A muzzle pressed into the back of his head. Luke froze.

  “I knew you were going to be trouble.”

  Twenty

  The tape binding Megan’s wrists was cutting off her circulation. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. The couch underneath her sagged and the scent of marijuana made her head hurt. Lord, we could use some help.

  Beside her, Luke sat stone-faced, his hands cuffed behind his back. His primary weapon along with his backup and his knife sat on the wet bar. Close enough to see but impossible to reach. His gaze was fixed on the two men in front of them, and she knew he was waiting for an opening. But how much could he do with no weapon and his hands behind his back?

  “Oh no, oh no. This is bad.”

  Kyle paced up and down the living room. His steps were frantic, increasing with the pitch of his voice. The hand holding his gun shook.

  “This is really bad,” he continued. “What are we going to do?”

  “What do you think, you idiot,” Dan snapped.

  The chief deputy took a drag of his cigarette and held the smoke in for a moment before blowing it out.

  “We’re going to kill them.”

  Megan swallowed hard. She’d suspected that was the plan, but hearing him say the words in such a cold manner sent fresh terror racing through her. A drop of sweat trickled down her back. Her gaze snapped to the weapon in Dan’s hand.

  Kyle reared back. “We…we can’t do that. That’s crazy.”

  “No, that’s self-preservation. There’s at least twenty thousand dollars worth of drugs in that closet. Do you know what the prison sentence for that is?”

  “I didn’t sign up for murder.”

  Dan shrugged. “You knew the risks.”

  The horror on Kyle’s face wasn’t an act. Megan racked her brain, recalling their conversations and everything she knew about the case. Kyle had been the one who confirmed Franny wasn’t alone on the night of her murder. He told them about the phone call he’d received. Why would he do that if he was part of it?

  He wouldn’t. Quentin died a year ago, but Lieutenant Rodriguez said the thefts from the evidence room were going on for a while and were extensive. Dan had to be the one behind it. After Quentin died, he needed a new go-between, and Kyle was it.

  “The only question is how we do it,” Dan continued, taking another drag on his cigarette before snuffing it out in the ashtray on the coffee table. “The easiest would be to kill them right now and be done with it.”

  “But it wouldn’t be smart.” Luke arched his brows, his tone casual, as if h
e was discussing the weather and not murder. “Do you know how hard it is to dispose of a body? Not to mention the trace evidence that’s left behind? I’ve already informed dispatch I’m here. This is the first place they’ll look.”

  Kyle’s breathing sped up. “He’s right.”

  As if on cue, Luke’s phone on the wet bar started ringing.

  Dan glanced at it and frowned. “Why is Weston calling you?”

  “Because he needs to talk to me. If I don’t answer, he’ll call again,” Luke said. “Turn off the phone and he’ll know something is wrong.”

  Kyle swallowed hard. “We can’t do this. It’ll never work. We’ll get caught.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” Dan tapped a finger to his temple. “He’s screwing with your head. Don’t you understand he’ll say anything to prevent us from killing him? That doesn’t make it true.”

  Luke’s phone rang again. He lifted his chin. “Everything I’m telling you is true, Kyle.”

  “Shut up,” Dan snapped. He grabbed the roll of duct tape and peeled off a piece, shoving it over Luke’s mouth. “Shoulda done that in the first place.”

  Dan grabbed Luke’s face, squeezing hard enough to form indentions in the skin, and pushed it back. He put the muzzle of his gun to Luke’s throat.

  “I’m gonna enjoy shooting you.”

  Luke glared at him. Despite the weakness of his position, fear didn’t flicker across his features. Megan heart flipped, however, and her blood turned to ice.

  “Like you did Franny?”

  Her voice trembled, but the question worked as she’d hoped to distract Dan. He turned toward her and smirked. Madness glimmered in his eyes.

  “What’s she talking about?” Kyle’s gaze jumped from Dan to Megan and back again. “Did you kill Franny and frame Wade?”

  “It was before your time, and it’s not your concern. The less you know, the better.” Dan released Luke and stepped back. “We’ll drive them out to the woods and shoot them there.”

  Luke’s expression never changed, but his posture relaxed a fraction. Megan understood why. The decision to kill them later bought them time, and every minute counted.