“Well, this whole thing could have just been an accident, Matt. There’re some pretty foolish drivers out there on the road. They might not have realized just how close they were to your sister. In any case, I wouldn’t worry myself about it.”
He drained the last of his coffee and placed the mug on a nearby end table. “I’d better be going, Matt. I left Lijah dealing with the fence your sister plowed up. He might need help.”
Ripp started toward the foyer and Matt followed. At the door, the rancher slapped a grateful hand on his shoulder.
“Thanks for bringing Lucita home, Ripp. We’ll see that she’s taken care of.”
Nodding, Ripp said, “A tow truck will take her car into Santee’s. After the sheriff’s department finishes its investigation, Lucita’s insurance company can find it there.” He grimaced as he glanced back at his friend. “Sorry, Matt, but I had to give her a citation. Without proof of the other car I couldn’t do anything else.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to do anything else,” Matt said, and then with a worried shake of his head, added, “I just hope nothing else happens and that it really was only some nutty driver on the road.”
“Yeah. Me, too,” Ripp agreed.
Realizing he’d already stayed longer than he should have, Ripp gave Matt a final farewell and left the house. But as he drove away, his gaze drifted one last time to the scattered lights beaming through the windows of the Sanchez home. A part of him wished he could have seen Lucita before he’d left. Just to make sure she was okay.
Forget her, McCleod. You don’t want another woman in your life. Especially a gorgeous heiress with problems as big as her bank account. That sort of trouble you don’t need.
Ripp was agreeing with the little voice in his head and trying to push her pretty face from his mind when Lijah’s voice suddenly came across the radio.
“Hey, number two. You close to your radio?”
Sighing with unexplained weariness, Ripp picked up the mike. “Yeah. I’m here, Lijah. What’s up? You didn’t let those bulls get out, did you?”
“Forget the fence. Done got it patched. I’ve been measuring those skid marks like you told me, but I’ve run into a little problem.”
Ripp frowned. Lijah wasn’t always the smartest deputy on the crew, but Ripp loved him like a brother and tried to be patient with his sometimes-thick head. “What sort of problem?”
“There’re two sets of skid marks here, Ripp.”
Ripp’s mind whirled as he tried to recall the marks he’d inspected from inside his truck as he’d driven up to the scene of the accident. He’d not taken the time to stop and walk the whole distance of the tire tracks. At that time it had been more important to make sure the occupants of the car were okay. Apparently Lijah had found something to corroborate Lucita’s story. “Two? Take a closer look, Lijah. You got your glasses on?”
“Dang it, Ripp, you know I don’t come to work without my glasses! I see two sets of skid marks. They’re almost on top of each other. You’d better come look for yourself.”
A cold, sinking feeling dropped to the pit of Ripp’s stomach. This was evidence that another car had been following Lucita closely. But did it mean that someone had been trying to harm her? He couldn’t answer that with one hundred percent certainty until he investigated more. And that was something he thoroughly intended to do.
“Lay out some barriers, Lijah. I don’t want another car to drive over that section of highway before I get a good look. I’ll be right there.”
Chapter Three
Long before daylight the next morning, Ripp was sitting at his kitchen table wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and sipping his first cup of coffee. Outside, down the dirt road that ran past his property, a rooster was crowing and somewhere nearby he could hear Chester, his black Labrador, barking, probably at an armadillo that was determined to dig up the last of the potatoes in the vegetable garden.
Ripp had moved into the small, shotgun-style house five years ago, after his father, Owen McCleod, had lost a long battle with lung disease. The family farm, where Ripp and his older brother, Mac, had once helped their father raise corn and cotton, had held too many painful memories for both men. They’d sold the place and used most of the money to settle up the enormous medical bills that had piled up while their father fought to stay alive. As for their mother, Frankie, she’d left the family farm long ago, when her sons had been mere children of eight and ten years old. Neither Ripp nor his brother ever heard from the woman and both of them preferred it that way. She’d chosen another man over her husband and sons and neither of them had any use for her.
As for what money remained from the estate sale, Ripp had used his small amount to buy this two-acre spot on the outskirts of Goliad. The house was old and had needed lots of work when he’d purchased the property, but Ripp was handy with carpentry and he’d managed to do all the refurbishing himself. And even though the house was far from fancy, the results of his hard work never ceased to leave him with a sense of proud accomplishment. At night, when he walked through the door, he liked knowing that his home, his land, belonged to him rather than some downtown banker.
Across the small kitchen, atop a refrigerator so ancient it had rounded edges, a radio was spewing the local news and weather. However, Ripp was paying little attention to the information. Last night he’d gone to sleep with Lucita Sanchez on his mind and this morning when he’d opened his eyes she was right there again.
Lijah’s discovery of the second set of tire marks had turned out to be correct, which meant that Lucita had been telling the truth. Someone had deliberately harassed her, then driven away from the scene after she’d crashed. The idea was more than disturbing to a man whose job was to keep the peace and ensure the safety of the citizens of the county.
Who did he think he was kidding? Ripp asked, as he left the table to drop two pieces of bread into a chrome toaster. This wasn’t about the citizens of Goliad County. This was something far more personal. Something about Matt’s sister haunted him, riled him and even stirred his libido. For the first time since Pamela had broken their engagement four years ago, Ripp actually caught himself thinking of a woman in a sexual way and the realization shocked him.
The browned bread popped up with a loud snap. Ripp retrieved a container of butter and a jar of jelly from the refrigerator, spreading thick layers on both pieces before tossing them onto a saucer and eating both pieces while standing at the cabinet counter.
Okay, so he was still a red-blooded man after all, he thought as he dumped the crumbs into a waste basket. Looking at a woman and finding her attractive wasn’t anything to get worried over. It only meant he’d returned to the land of the living. It didn’t mean he was going to get involved with the woman. Hell’s bells, that was a laughable notion anyway. Lucita Sanchez was as far away from his social circle as a woman could get.
Still, he couldn’t let her continue to wonder if her recollection of the accident had been completely accurate. She had a right to know what had happened—and to know to be on her guard. But before Ripp let her know anything, he wanted to personally make an inspection of her car.
Glancing at the clock hanging on the opposite wall, he figured he had time to feed Chester, then jump into the shower and shave before he headed off to work. Hopefully, he’d have a few extra minutes to stop at Santee’s before Sheriff Travers sent him off on a different matter.
An hour later, Ripp stood inside the chain-link fence surrounding Santee’s salvage yard. Junior, the owner, had a special spot where he kept vehicles for the sheriff’s department. The small area was locked away from the slew of public autos that found their way to his garage and salvage, so Ripp was quite certain that no one had tampered with Lucita’s small red coupe since the accident.
That made his finding even more sinister as he squatted on his heels and stared at the busted area on the back bumper. Near the fracture were several streaks and residual chips of black paint.
Lucita had describe
d the threatening vehicle behind her as black or dark-colored. She’d insisted the car had rammed her from behind and this damage confirmed that she’d been right.
His thoughts grim, Ripp walked back to his waiting truck. Once inside, he reached for the radio.
“Send Lijah over to Santee’s with a crime scene kit. I’ll be waiting here for him.”
The dispatcher quickly advised Ripp that she understood the order and the radio went quiet as he hung the mike back on the dashboard.
Even though the morning was still early, he figured if Lucita felt well enough to work today, she was probably already on her way to St. Francis High School in Victoria.
Ripp hadn’t taken down her telephone number. That wasn’t normal procedure. Acquiring the offender’s mailing address was the limit. And in spite of her being the sister of a close friend, he wasn’t a man to break the rules. But now he had pertinent information regarding her accident.
Quickly, he picked up the cell phone lying on the console next to his seat and searched for the number for the Sanchez house. It rang twice before Juan, the family cook, answered.
“This is Deputy McCleod,” he told the older man. “I need to speak to Matt. Has he left for work yet?”
“Wait. He might be gone. I’ll go see.”
Ripp could hear the clatter of the phone as the cook laid it down, then the noise of doors being opened and closed. Finally, after a couple of long minutes, faint voices sounded in the background, then boot steps grew closer and closer to the receiver.
“Matt here.”
“Matt, I’m glad I caught you,” Ripp told him. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Ripp! Sure I can talk. Is anything wrong?”
Of course he would think something was wrong, Ripp thought wryly. It was six in the morning. Not the usual time for a social call. “There could be,” he admitted. “How is Lucita this morning?”
“I talked to her earlier this morning right after I got up. She’s stiff and sore and has a little headache, but other than that she’s fine. She was determined to go into school this morning. She just signed a new contract with St. Joseph back in June and classes started at the first of this month. She doesn’t want to start missing days this soon on a new job. Are you calling to check on her or is this something about the accident?”
Since Ripp had driven Lucita home to the ranch, Matt must have assumed he’d taken a personal interest in his sister. The idea was a bit embarrassing, yet he couldn’t deny that Lucita had sparked him with something more than official law business.
Feeling awkward now, Ripp said, “Uh—well, I’m glad to hear she’s okay. But I have some news about her accident and I thought—I wanted to run it by you before I talked with her.”
Matt was suddenly wary. “Why? What is it?”
“Last night after I left the ranch, Lijah and I scoured the whole scene from the point where Lucita’s vehicle got into trouble to the spot where it actually left the highway. Your sister was right about someone following on her bumper, Matt. We discovered another set of skid marks.”
There was a long pause as though he was trying to digest Ripp’s revelation. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. And now I have something else to corroborate that evidence. I’m here at Santee’s right now. I’ve just finished inspecting Lucita’s car and I found damage on the back bumper. Black paint was left behind from contact with another vehicle.”
Matt muttered harshly. “Damn. Damn. I figured Lucita was right about the whole thing. She’s pretty levelheaded. So you haven’t said anything to her about this yet?”
“Not yet.” He paused as the memory of Lucita’s face swam to the forefront of his mind. On the ride to the Sandbur, she’d been mostly quiet, her pretty features set in grim determination. He’d sensed there were all sorts of dark fears swimming around in her head and he’d desperately wanted to reassure her, to promise her that she had nothing to fear. But he couldn’t make anyone those sorts of promises and he’d been left feeling frustrated and helpless. “Uh—last night I got the impression that your sister was a woman with a strong constitution, but this sort of news would shake anyone. I thought it might be better if this news came from you, Matt.”
“Well, you’re right about one thing—this shakes the hell out of me, Ripp. And it’ll do worse to Lucita. I don’t want her to know.”
Ripp was so stunned he pulled the receiver away from his ear and stared at it as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard his friend correctly.
“Matt! She has to know that someone was trying to harm her. The sheriff’s department has to investigate this matter. In fact, Lijah is already on his way over here to gather evidence to send to the crime lab.”
“Investigate all you need, Ripp. But why worry Lucita any more than she already is?” Matt countered. “There’s not much we can do about it. Not unless you catch whoever it is. And I can’t see that happening. Not unless he shows his face.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, ole buddy,” Ripp said tersely. “Guess you think all the sheriff’s department does around here is sleep or pick up kids for throwing soda cans on the sidewalk.”
“Hell, Ripp. You know that isn’t what I mean!” Frustration was threaded through Matt’s voice. “It’s just that—this is my sister. And I can’t see how paint on a bumper can tell you anything! If you ask me, it’s got to be her ex. He always drove black, expensive sports cars. But if the Corpus police can’t find him, I hardly think the Goliad County Sheriff’s Department can!”
If anyone else had said these things to Ripp, he would be seeing red. But Matt was his friend. Probably his best friend. And he understood the man was frustrated and even frightened for his sister’s safety.
Ripp looked over at Lucita’s little red coupe. The front of the car was nothing more than crumpled fiberglass. He figured the only reasons she was still alive were the grace of God and the car’s air bag. Just the thought of someone out there plotting to do harm to such a lovely slip of a woman burned Ripp with anger.
“So you believe it was her ex-husband who tried to run her down last night?” Ripp asked. “Why? What motive would he have for harming Lucita?”
“Who the hell knows? Derek Campbell is crazy. That’s enough to worry me,” Matt blurted hotly, then added more calmly, “I’m sorry if I sound unappreciative, Ripp. I know you’ll do your best to get to the bottom of this. In the meantime I’ll talk with Lucita. I’m sure she won’t go along with the idea, but I’m going to try to talk her into letting the family hire a bodyguard for her. Or at least, in letting one of the wranglers drive her to and from work.”
Ripp realized that trying to find the maniac who tried to run Lucita down would be like searching for one fire ant on an acre of pasture. Pretty nigh impossible. But he was a man who liked to beat the odds.
“That might not be a bad idea. In the meantime I’ll ask around. Maybe somebody else was on the highway last night around the time of the incident. But that’s unlikely. At that time of the evening, hardly anyone travels that stretch of highway.” He reached for a pen. “You say Lucita’s ex’s name is Derek Campbell?”
“Right.” Matt went on to give him the exact spelling before asking, “What are you going to do?”
“Search for any information I can gather about the man,” he answered. The sound of an approaching vehicle had Ripp looking around just in time to see Lijah pulling into the salvage yard. “I gotta go, Matt. When you talk to Lucita you can also let her know that I’m dropping the reckless driving charges so she’ll only have to deal with the speeding ticket.”
“Well, I guess that’s something positive, at least.”
Remorse twisted Ripp’s lips. Last night the man in him had simply wanted to take Lucita’s statement as one hundred percent accurate, especially when she’d looked at him with those big brown eyes. But he was Sheriff Travers’s chief deputy and he’d been forced to follow the rules.
“I’ll let you know if I make any headway, Matt. And i
f Lucita encounters anything strange on the highway or receives any sort of threat, call me. Day or night. Hear?”
“God forbid, but if something else happens, you’ll be the first to hear it, Ripp.”
A week later, Lucita was in her classroom at St. Francis High School, cramming the last of her geometry papers to be graded into a nylon tote bag. The bell announcing the end of the last class had rung more than thirty minutes ago and she’d finally gotten her desk straightened and everything packed that she needed to take home.
The past week had been a trying one, with sporadic headaches and a slew of extracurricular activities after classes. Somehow she’d made it through without missing a day of work, but now she was totally exhausted. The only thing keeping her upright was the fact that it was Friday and she could hopefully catch up on sleep over the weekend.
Pausing at the open door of the principal’s office, she waved a hand at the woman sitting behind the wide desk. “Have a good weekend, Maud.”
The blond-haired principal gave her a weary smile. “You, too, Luci. And be sure and take care of that head.”
Lucita absently touched a hand to the spot that her cousin Nicci had stitched together. The gash was healing, but still terribly sore.
Her family had all been very upset about her accident. Matt had even been threatening to hire a private investigator and a bodyguard to watch over her. But she’d stood her ground. She didn’t want anyone following her around as if she was some sort of celebrity or politician who needed to be guarded from the public. And she certainly didn’t want a P.I. snooping into her privacy. She wanted to live like a normal person. Besides, she’d told them, it had probably been an angry student who’d simply been trying to scare her before the incident snowballed into an accident. Lucita wasn’t sure she’d convinced any of them. After all, she wasn’t entirely convinced, herself.
From what Matt had told her, Ripp had sent paint chips from her car’s bumper to a crime lab in San Antonio. He was also searching for Derek’s whereabouts. But since she and Matt hadn’t heard from the deputy since then, it was evident he’d not found a substantial lead. Which wasn’t surprising. For the past three years Derek had slipped off the radar. But Lucita wasn’t going to dwell on her ex. He’d already ruined too much of her life. And why would he want to harm her now? He’d already gotten what he wanted—her money. He was a thief. Not a stalker.
Her Texas Lawman Page 4
