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A Texas Ranger's Christmas

Page 5

by Rebecca Winters


  Her parents were the ones who kept in touch with the last detective assigned to Nate’s case. Normally when she had to relive the horror of it, she felt drained afterward, but not tonight. Right now she felt exhilarated.

  After letting herself inside her small two-story town house, she was ready for a long soak in the tub. A half hour later she got into bed with her laptop and added notes on today’s business to her files. It was necessary to jot down the exact time she’d extracted the samples and the time they’d been dropped off, in case there was any question about them.

  As she closed the file, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and clicked on.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, darling. I thought I’d hear from you before now.”

  Either Blaire’s mother or father checked in with her every night, or she phoned them. It was a ritual that made her feel safe and helped her parents cope. But tonight she’d forgotten. “After work I went to the Arboretum to get off Mark’s gift. Now I’m just finishing up business. Sorry if I worried you.”

  “You didn’t. I was out doing some Christmas shopping myself. I bought your brother a new iPhone.”

  “He’ll love it. Marty has one. You can do anything with them.”

  “So I found out. The sales rep spent at least an hour showing me everything. By the time he was through, I decided to buy us each one.”

  “You’re kidding! Thank you! I know Gwen and Jim have been wanting one. They’ll be thrilled.”

  “I agree. Meet me for lunch tomorrow and I’ll give you yours early.”

  Jack had mentioned lunch tomorrow.

  “I’d love that, but could we make it on Wednesday instead? How about the Iron Cactus at twelve-thirty? I’ll arrange my schedule so we can have a full hour to play around with them.”

  “Wonderful. Your father insists he likes his old tendollar phone just fine, so don’t let on about his until Christmas.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you, Mom.”

  She hung up, glad her mother hadn’t asked her how her day had gone. Blaire was trying hard not to think about it. But when she turned out the light and burrowed under the covers, she discovered a feeling of excitement she hadn’t known in years. It was lighting her up against her will and there was nothing she could do about it.

  The feeling was still with her when she arrived at work the next morning and started making out her schedule for the day. Every time one of the guys walked in, she expected it to be Jack. By eight-fifteen she needed to be on her way and left a copy of her route and addresses with Sheila.

  The sun didn’t shine quite as brightly as she made her way out to the truck. Jack had warned Blaire. This was probably one of Josh’s bad days. Somehow when she’d left for the office this morning, she hadn’t expected it would suddenly turn out to be one of hers, too.

  Yesterday had been a surprise that had knocked her sideways. Blaire wished it hadn’t happened. She didn’t like feeling alive again because the letdown was excruciatingly painful.

  THE MANAGER OF THE CAMPUS branch of the Yellow Rose Bank of Texas met Caige at the door of his private office at nine and shook his hand. “It’s an honor to meet one of our Texas Rangers, Mr. Dawson.”

  “Thank you for helping me with this investigation, Mr. Lawrence.”

  “It’s my pleasure. Come in to this other office. I have everything waiting for you.”

  Caige followed him.

  “Go ahead and sit down at the desk. I hope I’ve downloaded the right information requested in the judge’s warrant. You can read everything from this computer.”

  “I appreciate you setting things up for me so fast.”

  “Happy to do it. I’m only sorry that no one in this branch, including myself, ever met or knew Mr. Farley.”

  “That’s not a concern. I have the depositions taken from all the banking people who worked here at the time.”

  “Of course. Since then, there have been quite a few transfers and turnovers because of the recession.”

  “Understood.”

  “If you need anything, just ask.”

  Once he’d closed the door, Caige got busy. According to the police report of Farley’s work record, he’d started mowing lawns at a city golf course from the age of sixteen on and had started banking with Yellow Rose at the same time, but at a different branch.

  When he’d attended UT Austin, he’d taken out student loans to get through school. It appeared he’d quit the golf-course job and gotten hired to work part-time in a sporting-goods store and mow lawns at a private country club on weekends. He’d continued to work those jobs after receiving his finance degree.

  Three months prior to his marriage to Blaire, Farley had applied for a bank-teller job at the campus branch and was hired at a starting salary of $25,000, with no negative history at any of his past jobs. From that point he did all his banking business at the campus branch. Once he married Blaire, she was added to his checking account, but they maintained separate savings accounts.

  Caige was looking for anything that sent up a red flag. He started going through Farley’s own banking record first.

  In his ten-year history of banking with Yellow Rose, Caige saw no evidence of unexplained large deposits of money, nor unexplained withdrawals of large sums in either the checking or savings accounts. He’d started paying off his student loans after graduation and was diligent about it. If he’d received funds prior to his grandmother’s death, they hadn’t been deposited in this bank.

  During the months Farley had worked at the campus branch, Caige noted the usual credit-card usage for various restaurants, purchases from local shops and stores. There were a dozen debits for charges from a travel agency. Maybe he’d traveled for the bank. Caige printed out everything so he could go over each item later.

  Then he turned to the police report on Blaire. She’d banked at her parents’ credit union from the time she was eighteen. The printouts the police had done from that bank showed no irregularities. When she got married, she closed out her account and opened one at Yellow Rose with her husband.

  As Caige scrolled through her account, he could see her transactions were consistent with the finances for her schooling and earned income from giving piano lessons. After her husband’s disappearance, the police report indicated she closed out her checking and savings accounts at Yellow Rose, and went back to the credit union. Nothing on the printouts from that time forward showed any unusual activity.

  So far the two of them looked squeaky clean on paper. The police report contained copies of their income taxes filed every year on time with small tax returns reported. Unlike many newlyweds, they were temperate in their spending and always paid their rent on time.

  Having satisfied himself on that score, Caige was curious to know if he’d find anything on the list of names who’d been listed as friends or coworkers of Farley in the police report.

  He started with the As, taking notes as he went. It didn’t surprise him to see huge blocks of money move in and out of various checking and savings accounts with some of the student accounts. A lot of high rollers banked at the campus branch.

  Two of the people who’d worked with Farley at the bank had also banked here, too. Caige quickly scanned their debits and credits, but he didn’t see anything unusual.

  Caige kept scrolling through the accounts, looking for the next name on the list. While he was searching for a Ben Dykstra, he suddenly muttered, “Bingo—” because Daniel Reardon Dunn’s name had just entered his line of vision.

  The murdered man’s savings account for the last year up to his death had amounted to $6,500,000.

  That was an impossible amount of money to be earned by a golfer only recently turned pro!

  Seventy percent of the deposits had been made in cash, which meant dirty money was involved. In a one-month period, he’d made two separate cash deposits of $600,000. There was a lot of illegal gambling money floating around Austin.

  It was perhaps durin
g the eleven months Farley had worked here that he’d become acquainted with Dunn. Caige wondered if the golfer had hidden money in other banks besides this one. Further scrutiny of the account disclosed he’d withdrawn the entire cash amount and closed out his account on September 4, two days before he’d been found murdered on the golf course.

  Caige’s mind reeled.

  If Farley had been the one to handle that withdrawal, it provided a motive for the Dunn murder, particularly when Farley had disappeared just over two months later, possibly absconding with the cash. But Caige needed the ballistics report from Dirk’s office before he could jump to that conclusion.

  For Farley, a recent college graduate who only earned $25,000 a year, the temptation to step over the line might have been too great. It was possible Farley had wanted to make a fast buck and had ended up a victim of foul play like Dunn.

  Though a long shot, it was worth investigating because one thing was certain. There’d been a connection between Dunn and Farley. The photograph of Blaire and her husband at the graveside established as much.

  Maybe Farley’s relationship with Dunn had resulted in an under-the-counter deal with mobsters that had gone wrong and he’d been bumped off like Dunn. What Caige needed was to find out when and where they’d met each other. He would have to get Blaire’s input for that because she hadn’t put Dunn’s name on the list of her husband’s friends.

  Caige scrolled through the rest of the accounts, looking for the last name on the list compiled by the police, Sheldon Peterson. But he hadn’t banked at the Yellow Rose. He shook his head when he happened to come across a checking account where $1,000,000 went in every month. The deposits were made by electronic transfer from a bank in La Jolla, California.

  How would it be to have that kind of money sitting in your account…?

  One thing was certain: nothing had sent up a warning like the Dunn account. Now that Caige had exhausted his search, he closed the file. Knowing he was onto something big one way or another, he thanked Mr. Lawrence for his help and left the bank.

  From the truck, he phoned Sheila for the address of Blaire’s next appointment and found himself exceeding the speed limit to join her. Though he was anxious to get answers from her, he recognized something of a personal nature was also driving him.

  As he exited the freeway close to his destination, his cell phone rang. He clicked on. “Ernie? What have you got for me?”

  “Dirk faxed over the results of the ballistics report you’ve been waiting for. None of the deaths were the result of bullets fired from Nathan Farley’s gun.”

  Somehow he’d known it would have been too easy if there’d been a match. “Thanks for the info, Ernie. Talk to you later.”

  When he turned the next corner, he spotted Blaire’s truck on the right. She’d parked in front of a private residence where three large white oaks grew in the front yard. Because she was seated in the cab, he didn’t know if she’d just gotten there, or was wrapping up. One of the trees had some large swellings on the limbs and trunk.

  Before she made a move, he put down the passenger window and drove up alongside her. She was on the phone, but when she saw him, he could have sworn her eyes lit up before she rang off.

  “Hi,” he said, trying to tamp down the thrill he felt just looking at her. “How about taking me to lunch when you’re through here?”

  Her smile got to him. “You caught me in time. I was just leaving.” She sounded a little breathless, exactly the way he felt. “What are you in the mood for?”

  She’d be surprised. “I’ll let you pick the place today.”

  “You’re on. Follow me.”

  Two miles away she pulled into Ribs Galore where you could eat all the baby back ribs you wanted. Despite the restaurant being crowded, service was fast. As soon as the hostess showed them to a table, a waitress was right there to take their orders and bring them iced tea.

  After they were alone, Caige smiled at her. “How did you know?”

  “Do you think there’s anyone who doesn’t love ribs?”

  He took a long, refreshing swallow. “I can’t comprehend it. So tell me. Were the burls in that white oak caused by fungus?”

  “No. When I chiseled through one, I realized it was a case of the wood growing naturally over some young buds.”

  “That’s good. It means they won’t lose the tree.”

  “No. I told the owner he can prune it or call a specialist to remove them by surgery.”

  He nodded. “Sorry I couldn’t join you earlier.”

  By now they’d been served their ribs and salad. Her eyes searched his. “Did Josh have a hard time this morning?”

  “Not any more than usual. The truth is, I had an appointment I couldn’t miss. Forgive me.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll still let the boss know. Something else might come up again. Now that my son is getting older, I’m thinking of putting my house up for sale and moving back to Naylor to be near family. It’ll probably happen sometime after the first of the year. I’ll buy a small ranch there, but it means getting my affairs in order first.”

  She averted her eyes. “Will you still work for the forest service?”

  “No. I grew up ranching and plan to go back to it. I know it will make Josh happier if I’m close at hand all the time. He’ll love following me around when he’s not at school. Leaving Austin will be good for him.”

  IF SOMETHING WAS TOO GOOD to be true, then it usually was.

  Blaire had only known Jack Lignell two days, but already he’d made such a strong impression on her, the thought that he would be leaving Austin in another month came as an unpleasant shock. Naylor might be only an hour away, but when two people had jobs and responsibilities, the reality of getting together on a daily basis wasn’t on.

  What had she been thinking?

  His unexpected entry into her life had done something terrible to her. Because of him she had realized what a wasteland she’d been living in. When he left, her life would go back to being just that.

  She ate the rest of her meal, but, to coin an ancient phrase, the salt had lost its savor.

  “What are you doing after work?” The question seemed to come out of the blue and gave her heart a jolt of a different kind.

  “I need to do some more Christmas shopping.”

  “I do, too, but after we passed that miniature golf course on the way here, I thought it might be kind of fun for Josh. I’ve never taken him to one before. How would you like to meet us there?”

  She lifted her eyes to him. “I think it sounds fun.” Blaire surprised herself that she could sound so calm about it.

  The warmth of his gaze seeped inside her. “In that case let’s hurry and get through our afternoon appointments. How many are there?”

  “Only three stops on our way back to the office.”

  “Perfect.”

  Blaire gave the waitress her credit card to pay the bill before they took off in separate trucks. She didn’t remember her wheels touching the ground.

  In all three cases, oak wilt appeared to be the culprit. They climbed trees and took samples in record time. While they worked, she asked him questions about Josh. The more she learned, the more she marveled at his coping skills. He had to be a father in a million.

  After express-mailing the samples on ice to the lab, they arrived back at the office at four. He walked her to her car. “I’ll run home for Josh and meet you at the course in an hour.”

  She nodded. “That will give me time to change out of my uniform.”

  “I’d pick you up, but I’d rather not spring anything new on him.”

  “I understand.”

  “He’s not good in crowds where there are loud noises and flashing lights, but getting there at the dinner hour might mean less people around. We’ll see how long he can handle it.”

  She hoped Josh lasted a long time. On her way home she changed her mind half a dozen times trying to decide what to wear. This would be the first
time since Nate that she was meeting a man when it wasn’t related to her husband’s disappearance or the forest-service business.

  After a quick shower she finally decided on her designer jeans and a dusky-blue crewneck cotton sweater with three-quarter sleeves. She ran a brush through her hair and applied fresh-pink-frost lipstick, then slipped into her bone-colored sandals.

  Normally she didn’t wear any scents on the job in order to keep the insects away, but this was different. She gave a little poof of her spring flowers eau de toilette and left the town house, eager to see Jack and meet his boy.

  When Blaire reached the parking lot at the mini golf course, she realized she was early. While she waited, she phoned her mom to confirm their date for lunch the next day. They chatted for a few minutes about other Christmas presents they needed to get. As she hung up, she spotted Jack’s red Toyota turn into the parking area. There were only a few cars around so far. That ought to please Jack.

  She got out and walked over to his car while he was undoing Josh’s seat belt. To someone who knew nothing about Josh, he would look like any darling eight-year-old wearing a black-and-purple shirt, jeans and sneakers. It wasn’t until he climbed down and clung to his daddy’s hand to stay close to him that she saw a difference from normal behavior.

  The resemblance to his handsome father in his dark hair and striking facial features squeezed her heart. Josh was lean and would probably grow up to be tall like him, too. Jack’s gray gaze swept over Blaire, making her legs go weak. “Hi, again. Meet my terrific son, Josh.”

  While the boy hugged his father’s side, she fought not to tear up at hearing the emotion in his voice. “Hello, Josh. I’m happy to meet you. My name’s Blaire.”

  She didn’t expect an answer back. While they’d been climbing trees earlier, Jack had told her Josh’s speech hadn’t returned yet, but the doctor was hopeful. Sometimes he made noises. The three of them walked over to the office located in a miniature Victorian dollhouse. Jack paid the entry fee and they were given some clubs.

  He handed her one, but kept his and Josh’s until they’d walked to the first hole. With infinite patience he showed Josh what to do with the club and the ball. As it turned out, Josh preferred trying to shove the ball, but he lost interest quickly when he couldn’t connect. “Come on, buddy. You’ll get it next time.”

 

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