by Rita Herron
Joey winced. Her mother had suffered—they all had.
“You have power now, Joey,” Donna continued. “You have to convince them to stop looking into your brother’s old case.”
Joey’s blood ran cold. Donna knew she was in charge of the press, that she was working on the investigation. Would Donna use her to find out what the police had on her?
“And why should I do that, Mother?” Joey sighed. “I’d think you of all people would want to know the truth about what happened to Justin.” God knew, she did.
Donna glanced sideways, an odd look on her face, and Joey saw her gaze land on a photograph on the desk.
A brass frame held a picture of her and Justin standing beside the Christmas tree the holiday before he’d been abducted. The warm memory washed over Joey in a wave of nostalgia. Justin had been awestruck by the shiny twinkling lights, had babbled that he wanted a red fire truck for Christmas, and a train set and a pony. She had lifted him on her shoulders to help him hang his stocking on the mantel. She remembered his gleeful cry the next morning when he’d found the toys beneath the tree. And the Shetland pony out in the backyard…
“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about Justin and wish we had him back,” Donna said in a thick voice. She hitched in a breath, then resolve hardened her tone. “But opening up old wounds will do nothing but tear us apart again, Joey. Please, do what you can to get those Rangers off our backs. We barely survived the first time. I’m not sure any of us can live through a second go around.”
Joey studied her mother’s intense expression with unease. Was her mother’s grief the real reason she didn’t want the Rangers probing into the kidnapping/murder now? Or was it because she and Leland had gotten away scot-free years ago, and she was afraid they’d find evidence to convict them? If they did, would she expect Joey to cover for them?
LELAND HENDRICKS had been shocked the night before when he’d seen Joey on the TV with that slime-ball reporter Dennison, and disappointed that she hadn’t shown up at his house later that evening.
Emotions pummeled him as he watched her exit Donna’s diner. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. And a deep disappointment that she had chosen to see her mother before him.
Donna was probably gloating right now.
Then again, Joey hadn’t spoken to him in years, so what did he expect?
That she’d realize he wasn’t the villain everyone had painted him to be? That even though he had made terrible mistakes years ago—marrying Donna for one, marrying Lou Anne for another—that he had suffered every day since?
Dammit, he had provided a home for her when her mother had been too drunk and incapacitated on pills to stand upright. And in spite of the allegations against him, he had loved her and had never wanted Justin harmed.
Guilt weighed heavily on his soul as he headed toward the back of the diner. The past rose from the shadows like a dragon breathing a fiery trail down his neck. His life had been such a mess back then. His finances in ruins. His responsibilities to his business a pressure cooker ready to explode, problems attacking him from all sides. Then his family troubles. Donna’s insatiable drinking and the drugs. And then Lou Anne—the woman had turned into a minefield of trouble herself. She hadn’t been able to give up her lovers. Jim McKinney for one. She’d practically flaunted her affairs in his face. And she hadn’t wanted his kids. Not Joey or Justin.
Especially not Justin.
He had to talk to Donna. Find out what new lies she might have planted in Joey’s head.
A ripple of anxiety clawed at his throat. All these years Joey had hated him. He had to wonder why.
Did Joey know more about Justin’s disappearance than she’d admitted?
Something that would make him look guilty?
LATE AFTERNOON shadows slanted across the land as Cole rode Apache up to the stables. Zane and Sloan stood by an official Rangers’s car waiting for him as if they’d been there for hours. He tightened his jaw, glad he’d found some evidence to prove his worth, but also irritated that they hadn’t waited at the makeshift sheriff’s office for him. Didn’t they trust him to keep the evidence intact?
He pulled on the reins and slowed Apache to a walk, patting his side and mumbling his thanks to the horse as the beast loped into the fenced corral and headed for a drink of water.
Cole threw his leg over the animal and climbed down. He enjoyed the feel of the horse beneath him, the power of the animal just as he did his Harley. The only thing sweeter was a woman beneath him. An image of Joey flashed into his mind, and he imagined her spread on the grassy slope of the hill, naked and ready to be ridden.
The brief image played havoc with his concentration. Sexual fantasies didn’t belong in the middle of this case.
He stroked Apache’s mane then began to unfasten his saddlebags as his half brothers approached. “Thanks, buddy, you did good today.” While he’d prefer to stay and brush down the horse himself, he turned him over to the stable hand so he could deal with the Rangers.
“Did you have any luck?” Zane asked.
He wasn’t lucky, he was a damn good tracker. But he refused to get into a pissing contest with the McKinneys. “I found the bullet, and collected a few other fibers that might help. Also took some footprints. They’re partials but you might get something from them.”
“Great.” Sloan smiled, and Cole realized he resembled Jim McKinney. He wondered if Sloan was as smooth with the women.
“With that bullet, maybe we can determine who shot Carley and make an arrest,” Sloan said. “That SOB needs to pay.”
“Right,” Zane said. “Cole, give me everything you found, and I’ll send it to the crime lab.”
Cole frowned. “I could have brought it over. No need for you to have wasted time waiting around.” Unless you didn’t trust me.
“You did your job,” Zane said. “We can take it from here.”
Cole narrowed his eyes as he handed over the evidence bags. “Excuse me?”
“We can handle the investigation,” Sloan said. “We just needed some help in tracking this down.”
“You mean you’re dismissing me from the case now?” Cole asked in a hard voice. “But I just got here.”
His brothers exchanged an odd look that raised Cole’s suspicions.
“Why do you want me gone? Is there something you guys are covering up? Something about Jim McKinney?”
“No,” Zane said a little too quickly.
Cole didn’t believe them. “You have new evidence against him, don’t you? What is it? Did Stella tell you something? Is that why she had a breakdown? She finally admitted the truth, that he killed Lou Anne Wallace?”
A muscle ticked in Zane’s jaw, and Cole realized he’d hit the nail on the head.
“No,” Sloan barked. “But you’d probably like to see him fry, wouldn’t you? You’ve hated him all these years, and you want to see him suffer.”
A knot of fury balled in Cole’s stomach. He hadn’t expected anything but animosity from his brothers. Yet he had hoped they’d be fair.
“I’m a Ranger, same as you,” he said harshly. “Jim McKinney means nothing to me, one way or the other. So you’re wrong. I don’t want to see him locked up. Nor do I want him to walk away if he’s guilty.” He grabbed his saddlebags and slung them over his shoulder. “You see, McKinneys. I’m not caught up in your family drama the way you are. And as far as our father goes, frankly I don’t give a damn what happens to him.”
Furious, he stalked toward his Harley, hung the bags across the back, grabbed his helmet and yanked it on. Then he tore down the graveled driveway, spitting dust and rocks behind his wheels.
Still, the silver star of Texas he’d found, the one he thought belonged to Jim McKinney, burned his pocket, taunting him with doubt as he headed back into town.
“NO JUSTICE in Justice—that seems to be the recurring theme the local residents are complaining about here in Tarrant County, Texas.” Dennison lowered the mike to a white-haired lady i
n a purple knit pantsuit. “Do you agree, ma’am?”
She fluttered an age-spotted hand to her throat. “It seems that way. Poor Sarah Wallace strangled with her own purse strap.”
The lady beside her clutched her handbag under her arm as if she feared the killer might do the same thing to her. “We just want to be safe again,” the little woman said.
“The worst part is knowing that it’s the same man who killed Lou Anne Wallace sixteen years ago.”
They both darted furtive looks across the street.
“What if he’s been here all this time, acting like he’s one of us, and we never knew it!”
“I thought that Jim McKinney probably killed Lou Anne,” the first woman interjected. “Or maybe his wife did out of jealousy. He sure did shame poor Stella.”
“I just hope Jim’s boys can be fair and do the right thing if they have to arrest their father,” the second woman said. “Such a scandal.”
“Do you ladies believe this case is connected to the Hendricks baby kidnapping and murder?” Dennison asked.
“Oh, my word, yes.” They both sputtered.
“Leland Hendricks has more money than God now,” the second woman chirped. “He’ll probably pay his way out of it this time just like he did back then.”
Joey clenched her jaw. She understood the women’s concerns. Hadn’t she thought the same thing herself?
But hearing her father slandered again hurt more than she wanted to admit.
Still, if she confronted Dennison now, it would appear as if she was defending her father. The best defense would be to find out the truth.
Spotting the bar nearby, she dashed inside. Maybe someone here might offer insight into the past.
A little early for hard liquor, she ordered a beer and claimed a seat at the bar. A few locals played pool in the back while the jukebox blared out country tunes. The waitress who’d flirted with Cole frowned at her, while a middle-aged man in a suit took a chair beside her, and a man in jeans and a cowboy shirt and hat took the other.
“Bud, I’m Joey Hendricks,” she said to the bartender.
“I know who you are, honey. I saw you on the news.”
She grimaced at the pet name. But she wanted answers and honey caught more flies than vinegar so she smiled. “How long have you been in Justice?”
“I grew up here,” Bud said as he wiped the counter. “Owned this bar for the last twenty years.”
“So you must know everyone in town?”
“Pretty much.” He gestured around the smoky room and dark corners. “People come here to let down and relax.”
“And hook up,” Joey said with a smile.
He shrugged. “Nothing wrong in that.”
“Not if you’re single.”
Bud leaned forward, propping himself on his elbows. “I mind my own business. If I don’t, I lose customers.”
Joey nodded. “Did Jim McKinney meet Lou Anne Wallace here sixteen years ago?”
He poured a scotch for the suited man and a glass of merlot for the lady who’d joined him, then turned back to her. “They didn’t exactly keep their affair a secret. Jim liked women. Period.”
“So Lou Anne wasn’t his only lover?”
“Just the last.”
Joey stewed over that comment. She’d always wondered if Stella might have killed Lou Anne out of jealousy or revenge for screwing her husband. But if Jim had another woman on the side, that lady might not have liked the competition.
Bud’s tone grew hushed. “Lou Anne’s marriage to Leland didn’t stop her from giving up men.”
“Jim wasn’t the only man she fooled around with?”
He grunted sarcastically, then turned away to handle an order from the waitress.
Joey pondered this information. Maybe Jim’s lover wanted to get rid of Lou Anne. Or what if one of Lou Anne’s lovers or their wives knocked her off? Had the police explored that theory?
But who else had slept with Jim McKinney? And what about Lou Anne? Who else had she taken to her bed?
Would her father know?
Her head throbbed at the thought of asking him. But she had to follow through on the possibility. She’d question him tomorrow.
Exhausted, she thanked Bud, paid for her beer, then crossed the street to the inn. Cole’s Harley sat in front of the building, and she contemplated knocking on his door to see if he’d found anything new. But it was late, and if she did, she’d suffer the same dilemma as the night before.
Better to confront him in the morning when she wasn’t feeling so vulnerable. And when the sight or smell of him wouldn’t keep her awake all night again with longing.
She entered the inn, and veered into the stairwell to go to the second floor. Darkness bathed the hallway, and behind her, she thought she detected a footstep. The floor creaked, and she spun around, searching the darkness.
“Who’s there?”
Silence stretched for a heartbeat, the whisper of someone’s breathing tainting the quiet. Joey clutched her purse, wishing she had brought her gun with her instead of leaving it in the room. Bracing herself for an attack, she hurried up the steps. The footsteps sounded behind her, picking up their pace, grating on her nerves. Finally she burst through the door to the hallway, jammed the key into her room and vaulted inside. Her breath caught as she slammed the door and leaned against it. The room was pitch-dark, the air hot and sticky.
A shadow caught her eye, and she realized she wasn’t alone.
She opened her mouth to scream, and reached for the doorknob, but the intruder grabbed her around the neck, cutting off her air with the heel of his hand. He clamped his other hand over her mouth and dragged her against him. “Stop nosing around, or your mother is going to get hurt.”
Chapter Six
Cole swore as he threw his saddlebags on the floor of the inn room. How dare Zane and Sloan McKinney dismiss him as if he was some lackey they didn’t want to be bothered with any longer. He’d come a long way to help them and that was the thanks he got.
Not that he expected a dinner invitation at the family table, but they obviously couldn’t wait to see him ride out of town. Of course, then they could go about their business as always and pretend that he didn’t exist the way they’d done all his life.
The way Jim McKinney had.
His throat thickened with emotions as he ran his thumb over his pocket where he’d stored the badge he’d found in the woods. Heat emanated from the metal, reminding him that he was crossing the line not turning over evidence. Was the man really worth him risking his own reputation as a Ranger? He could argue that he’d been concerned about what Sloan and Zane would do with the badge, that they might cover for their father.
But was that true? Or did some small part of him want to exonerate Jim McKinney himself?
No. He didn’t give a damn about the man who’d abandoned him and his mother.
If he were guilty, he’d arrest him and see that he fried for his wrongdoings.
Bitterness knocked at the shell of apathy he’d carved around his heart, but he tamped it down. Not caring was the best defense against them all. Becoming emotional would only make him weak. Make them think he wanted to be part of the McKinneys. That he actually missed being a member of their family.
How the hell could he miss something he’d never had?
His family consisted of his mother. That was all he needed. All he ever would.
Being alone suited him fine. He had no one to answer to. No one to take care of. No one to worry about when he was on the job.
No one to warm his bed.
An image of Joey Hendricks and those mile-long legs came to mind, and he turned toward the door. Maybe he’d pay her a visit tonight before he left. See what she’d found out today.
Ask her if she’d like to share a drink before bedtime. And then…what?
Sleep with him before he hit the road?
A smile curved his mouth, and he opened the door and stepped into the hall. But just as he raised h
is hand to knock, he heard a noise from inside her room. A table being bumped. Something crashed. Scuffling. Then a scream.
His heart hammered into overdrive.
“Joey!” He jiggled the doorknob but it was locked. Another scream rent the air and a loud thunk. Someone was definitely in the room.
Joey was in trouble.
He slid his gun from his ankle holster, then slammed his shoulder against the door with all his force.
JOEY SWUNG HER ELBOW backward into the man’s stomach. He grunted, then shoved her to the floor on her knees. She twisted and tried to see his face, but he kicked her in the back, and she doubled over in pain. God, if she could only reach her gun.
“Joey!” Cole’s voice reverberated through the haze, and she heard his body slam against the door, jarring the wood and echoing off the walls.
Her attacker yanked her head backward by her hair and pushed a gun to the base of her skull. “Move and you die.”
She froze, breathing hard, her mind racing. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
“If you care about your mother, steer the Rangers away from her.”
Her mind raced. She couldn’t believe she’d let this creep get the best of her. If she grabbed his ankle and tripped him, she might have a chance. But he might press the trigger, and she’d be dead.
Dying was not in her plans tonight.
“Do you understand?” He lifted his foot, and stomped her back again with his boot. Pain split her lower extremities, and she cried out, sucking in air to breathe through the agony. “Yes…”
Growling something in Spanish, he kicked her shoulder so hard that tears trickled down her cheeks, and she slumped to the floor, fighting nausea.
Hugging her arms around her middle, she dragged in deep breaths, battling against the need to pass out as he leaped out the window.
