A Texas Ranger's Christmas

by Rebecca Winters

  This was what she presumed was a tantrum. She hadn’t seen him do this before. On Thursday night she’d read some medical information online that said tantrums in children like Josh could last a long or a short time. Sometimes it was a waiting game. One article said that if you distracted a child with something they wanted, they might snap out of it, but Blaire didn’t have anything on her. She’d left her purse in the car with Elly.

  Out of desperation, she pulled some more snacks out of the bag. After putting them in her palm, she extended her hand to him. He liked that. Into his mouth they went. A new game. She did it a few more times. “These are good, huh?”

  Their faces were close. Suddenly he kissed her cheek three times. Little angel pecks that caught at her heart.

  She kissed him the same way. Without saying any words, she held his hand and got up. To her joy, he stood up and they walked to the car. Elly had gotten out and was waiting for them with a smile. “Tantrum over?”

  “Yes.” Blaire was so relieved, they both chuckled before she fastened Josh in the backseat. When they drove home, Caige, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, came out the front door and made a beeline for his son.

  “Hey, buddy. You were gone so long, you must have had a great time.” Josh always clung to his father.

  Elly nodded. “We certainly did.”

  “We would have been home ten minutes sooner, but he didn’t want to leave,” Blaire explained. “I just played with him some more and then gave him a few more snacks. It seemed to do the trick.”

  “And she was rewarded with kisses.” Elly winked at Blaire, who hadn’t realized she’d been watched that closely.

  Caige flashed Blaire a half smile that set off butterflies in her stomach. “Kisses mean he’s happy.”

  “I kissed him back.”

  “Lucky him,” he murmured before walking him in the house. When they reached the hallway he turned to Elly. “Do you mind starting his bath without Blaire? I only need to talk to her for a minute.”

  “No problem. Come on, Josh. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

  Blaire noticed him hang on to his father, but he finally let go and went with Elly to his bathroom.

  “We’ll go in my den.” She followed Caige into his inner sanctum with its wall of books. He kept pictures of his family and Josh in here. There were other pictures of him in his younger days with some of his colleagues. Blaire had no doubt he had photos of his ex-wife. Maybe he’d stored them in a box or a drawer.

  She sat down in one of the wingback chairs. He perched on the corner of his desk that held his computer.

  “While you were gone this afternoon, I was tracing down another lead. It turns out I’m going to have to go out of town tomorrow. If I fly out early in the morning, I can be back by evening. I hadn’t anticipated leaving you this soon, but it’s vital.”

  It had to be for him to consider such a move.

  “Since tomorrow is Elly’s last day, you still have her for backup while she packs. But if, heaven forbid, I can’t get back until Monday morning, how do you feel about being on your own this soon?”

  “Caige—don’t worry about me. I’m getting more and more comfortable with Josh all the time. To be honest, I’m glad I experienced one of his tantrums today. We got past it, and that gives me more confidence.”

  He wore a concerned expression. “If you have any doubts, I could put this off until next—”

  “Please don’t,” she broke in on him. “This is exactly why I told you I wanted to take care of Josh. You need to act immediately on any information you find. Every time you have to leave, I know it’s because you’re working on my case. What time do you need me?”

  “Six in the morning.”

  “I’ll be here.” She got up from the chair. “If that’s everything, I’m going to go see how Josh is doing.”

  “Blaire? I’ll only be a phone call away. Elly has already shown you that list of phone numbers we keep in the kitchen. The doctors, Gracie, my parents and family, my boss and his wife. All of them have helped with Josh at one time or other.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  He nodded. “After his bath, I’m going to take all of us for a ride out to Travis Lake. I thought it would be nice to have a goodbye dinner for Elly. I’ve got some presents for her.”

  “I bought her one, too, but I’ll have to give it to her tomorrow.”

  “She’ll appreciate that. In case you didn’t know, she thinks the world of you.”

  “I think the same of her, but she hardly knows me.”

  “It’s your way with Josh that has impressed her. The way it has me,” he added in his deep voice.

  “I won’t let you down.”

  Blaire hurried out of the den and down the hall to the bathroom. She took over for Elly, knowing what to do because she’d already bathed and dressed Josh three times this week. “Let me do this while you get ready.”

  Elly smiled. “For what?”

  “Just trust me.”

  An hour later the four of them took off in the car in a festive mood. Caige explained that Josh loved going through the drive-through car wash, so they did. Josh rocked back and forth in his seat, obviously excited while the water squirted over the car.

  Blaire sat in the backseat with him and had strapped him in. He smelled so sweet and seemed so eager, she gave him several kisses. On the drive home, she reached over and slipped her fingers into his right hand, not knowing if he would reject her or not. The gesture was impulsive on her part because she was so thrilled to be out with Caige and his son.

  When his fingers curled around hers and hung on tightly, she could have cried for happiness. As she lifted her head, her gaze met Caige’s silvery gaze through the rearview mirror. The tender look in them constituted one of the supreme moments of her life.

  Chapter Ten

  Caige landed at the San Diego airport at ten o’clock Sunday morning under overcast skies. Thanks to Ernie, who had finally got hold of the former manager of the Sterling Luxury Condos in La Jolla, he had a definite destination in mind. Everything in his gut told him he was on the verge of a discovery that could end Blaire’s nightmare. Though he was going on information that was more than five years old, he felt this lead held the key.

  Following the directions on the GPS navigator, he drove his rental car north on I-5. At three miles he took Greenways Vista Road and headed west until he came to the entrance to the Mourning Dove Golf and Country Club Complex. According to Ernie, it was worth $250,000,000 on today’s market, if you include the course itself, the clubhouse, shops and the twenty-four luxury homes surrounding the fairway.

  He read the sign:

  Welcome to Mourning Dove, home of world-acclaimed golf-course designer and architect Creed Marshall III, named premier golfing architect by Hole-In-One Monthly.

  Though not a golf enthusiast, Caige had watched segments of the various PGA specials on TV over the years and had admired the beauty of the unique landscaping that made up a famous golf course. But nothing had prepared him for the sight before him.

  The cliffside fairways looked out over the blue Pacific. Sloping velvety greens hugged the rugged coastline. A limited number of fabulous homes with red-tiled roofs lined the concourses. For the megamillionaires who lived and died for golf, this had to be paradise.

  While driving through to the country club in the distance, he passed a stable and tennis courts. Farther on, he caught a glimpse of the Olympic-size swimming pool. This had it all. He eventually parked the car in the front courtyard and entered the rambling structure. It reflected a mixture of its Native American roots and Spanish-mission heritage.

  A sign indicated the general offices were reached by a colorful hand-painted-tile staircase edged with flowers spilling over their terra-cotta pots. It rose to the next level, dominating the west portion of the foyer.

  Signed photographs of the most renowned golfers in the world had been framed and mounted on the stucco walls. Many of them paid tribute to Creed
Marshall’s genius.

  The golf and pro shops were at the other end of the building. Before he talked to the management, he walked around to familiarize himself with the floor plan. He came to the crowded golf shop filled with all the golfing necessities known to man. It looked like the interior of the most upscale department store. Caige zeroed in on the three employees waiting on customers. Two of them were good-looking women who wore the shop’s latest golf apparel.

  After a few minutes he headed into the pro shop with its training aids and bookstore. In one section you could watch videos. There was a nook where you could buy and sell used golf clubs. He walked over to the area of the room devoted to a setup of the home practice center. One of the upbeat male employees approached him with a smile. He’d dressed in a trendy outfit for the golfer who wanted to be noticed.

  “What can I help you out with today? If you’re wanting to improve your game, this can really help.”

  Caige turned to him. “I was just looking.”

  “Great. Take all the time you want. If you need anything, come and find me.”

  “Thank you.”

  In another minute he left the shop and walked down to the other end of the long hall filled with potted trees and plants. The restaurant was filled by the Sunday brunch crowd. According to the board outside the entrance, the fresh catch of the day was swordfish. There were conference rooms farther on.

  The maître d’ gave him a polite smile. “Welcome to the Dove Creek restaurant. I’m Agosto. Are you dining alone or expecting someone?” He spoke with a slight Italian accent.

  “Actually, I’m looking for Richard Pettigrew. Someone told me he worked here as a sous-chef.” The lie was worth a shot.

  The man darted him a puzzled glance. “If you mean Rick, he’s Mr. Marshall’s son-in-law and works upstairs.”

  Caige shook his head. “The Richard I’m looking for goes by Dick and is divorced. We’re obviously talking about the wrong person here. He’s five-eight. Black hair. Wiry.”

  “Rick is dark blond and married with two children.”

  “My mistake. It seems I was definitely given the wrong information. Sorry.” There were people waiting in line behind him.

  “No problem.”

  “Thank you.”

  Struggling to keep himself from letting out a victory yell heard round the world, Caige retraced his steps and climbed the staircase to the next level. There were nameplates on three different doors. Bob McKay, President. Bruce Marshall, Vice President. Would that be a son, a brother, an uncle or the father of Creed Marshall?

  Caige’s gaze flicked to the third door. Rick Pettigrew, Assistant Director.

  He left the club and hurried out to the parking lot. Once behind the wheel of the car, he pulled out his phone and called Mac. He answered on the third ring.

  “Hate to bother you on your day off, Mac, but I’ve hit pay dirt.”

  “Is Farley alive or dead?”

  Though part of him felt incredible elation, the part that would have to tell Blaire the news caused him to grimace. “Very much alive. He has two children. There’s a special spot reserved for the management out here in the parking area. I see a Ferrari, a Porsche and a Maserati. I’m going to sit here until I get a visual on him and take a picture.”

  An eloquent silence followed. “The second you get it, I’ll call Tim Robbins. He’ll want to coordinate a sting operation.”

  “While you do that, I’ll start Ernie working on a complete background check.”

  “I’ll get back to you. Have I ever told you Ranger Dawson does great work? Don’t you leave us!”

  Caige would have liked to reassure him, but too many things were up in the air right now.

  Once Mac had hung up, Caige made the call to Ernie, who let out a bark of excitement so loud it hurt his eardrum. While they spoke, he started up the car and drove as close as he dared to the luxury cars. He needed to get good pictures.

  This being a Sunday, Caige figured the lowlife wouldn’t stick around all day. The clock said eleven-thirty. He had to be at the airport by five-thirty. Luckily it wasn’t more than a half hour away if you factored in traffic.

  For the next two hours he spoke on and off to his colleagues, discussing strategies. He’d bought diet colas and Milky Way bars on the way to Mourning Dove. They would have to do for his lunch because he wasn’t moving from the spot.

  Agent Robbins phoned him. All he needed was a positive ID, then they’d decide on a plan of attack.

  He checked in on Blaire. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine. Josh has eaten most of his peanut-butter sandwich. When he’s finished, I’ll drive him to the park. I told Elly not to come with us. She’s got a dozen things to attend to, but she keeps stopping to give Josh a hug. She’s going to miss him.”

  “I have no doubt of it, but when she’s back with her sister, she’ll have freedom she hasn’t enjoyed in over a year.”

  “You’re right.” After a pause she said, “Are you okay?”

  “Busy.”

  “Then I won’t keep you.” She didn’t ask him more questions. Good, because he wouldn’t have answered them.

  “I could be home by as early as nine this evening. Otherwise it will have to be tomorrow morning.”

  “Understood. Don’t you worry about anything here. We’re terrific.”

  He bowed his head. All that was going to change within twenty-four hours. “Take care, Blaire.”

  “You, too.”

  They clicked off. Caige checked his watch. Ten after two. When he lifted his head, there was Nathan Farley, coming out the doors of the building big as life. Caige started snapping pictures.

  What was it Ernie had said the owner of the shooting range had told him? They came several times in a black BMW convertible in their flashy clothes. He thought they might be film stars because he was good- looking and had that kind of tan you don’t get in the States.

  One of these days Caige would drive out to that shooting range with Blaire and they’d thank Mel for the tip that helped him put the bits and pieces together.

  He followed Farley at a discreet distance. Relying on his binoculars, he watched the car pull into the garage of one of the hacienda-type houses along Mourning Dove Way. It reeked of money.

  Once the door closed, he drove by and snapped more pictures. On his way to the airport he phoned Agent Robbins. “You’ve got your proof. I downloaded it and just pressed Send.”

  “I’m looking for it right now.” Caige didn’t have to wait long for the response. Robbins’s whistle came close to damaging his other eardrum. “The Koslov family is going to get their long-awaited Christmas present. How do you want to handle it with Blaire?”

  Caige drew in a sharp breath. “She’s going to want to confront him. Let’s let her do it in his office.”

  “He’ll have a gun on him and possibly one in the drawer.”

  “Yup. We’ll go in first to arrest and cuff him. Then we’ll leave her alone with him.”

  “I’ll set it up with the feds in California so that when they’re through with him, we can extradite him to Texas for trial.”

  Caige gripped his phone tighter. “We need to move as fast as possible. This close to Christmas, I don’t want to take any chances he might be leaving for somewhere else and we miss nabbing him.”

  “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

  Caige wanted to take Farley into custody right now. “Perfect.”

  ELLY LEFT CAIGE’S HOUSE at seven while Josh was taking his bath. After more hugs and promises to keep in touch, Blaire found herself alone with Josh. With Caige out of the house, too, his son was a great comfort to her.

  Josh didn’t react to Elly’s leaving. She wondered how long it would be before he started missing Elly. An hour, a day? She was thankful he was being so good. At eight she started the ritual of putting him to bed. First came the pull-up diaper and his pajamas. Then the teeth-brushing. That took some time because he thought it was a game. Finally he lay down cuddlin
g an old blue bunny.

  The darling fell asleep fast. Caige told her that once Josh’s head touched the pillow, he faded quickly. That is unless he had a cold and grew restless. Such a day was bound to come soon, but not tonight, thank heaven.

  Elly had changed the sheets on her bed and scoured her bathroom. Everything was ready for Blaire to take over. The sunny room with its yellow-and-white motif had once been a guest bedroom. Caige’s ex-wife’s great decorating sense was reflected throughout the house.

  With her phone stashed in her jeans pocket, Blaire looked in on Josh one more time before going in the kitchen to watch TV. Nothing held her interest. She surfed channels. At nine Caige phoned. After saying hello, she held her breath, wondering if he’d been detained.

  “Just so you know, I’m driving home from the airport and should be there in five minutes.”

  Her heart clapped so hard she was certain he’d heard it. “Good. Josh is asleep. I’m free to fix you a meal if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks, but I stopped for a sandwich. Did Elly get off all right?”

  “Yes. At seven.”

  “Don’t go to bed yet, Blaire. We have to talk.”

  He clicked off too fast for her to respond. While she was watching news on cable without taking any of it in, she heard the garage door open. In a second his tall, well-honed body entered the kitchen through the other door.

  “Hi,” she said and turned off the TV.

  His gaze swept over her with new urgency. “Hi yourself.”

  They stood facing each other, almost as if they were adversaries. He was in a white knit shirt and jeans. She was wearing one of her Trees for Life T-shirts. Nerves caused her stomach muscles to clench. “Is it good news or bad?”

  “Let’s sit down first.”

  She did his bidding, but she couldn’t stand the waiting. “Just tell me the truth. After this long I can take anything.”

  Caige sank down on one of the chairs. “He’s alive,” he ground out.