Carbon Copy Cowboy (Texas Twins Book 3)

by Arlene James

  “I need to run to the store for a few things. Will you be here for a while?” Terri asked Sam as she closed the door.

  He nodded.

  “I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time.” He sauntered toward Jocelyn with a grin on his face. “Good morning.”

  “What are you doing here?” Jocelyn blurted out, not really surprised to see him. But she hadn’t expected him this soon. He’d only stayed eight hours in the hospital.

  “Do I really need to answer that?”

  Terri snatched up her purse. “There’s some coffee on the stove.”

  In the kitchen, Sam filled a mug and sat across from Jocelyn at the table. “How do you feel?”

  “Besides aching all over and having some crazed father after me, great.” She took a sip of her brew. “Did you check yourself out of the hospital?”

  “I’m not here to talk about me.”

  “In other words, yes.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve been hurt before, and the medication is working.”

  “Your head doesn’t hurt?”

  “Let’s say those elephants aren’t doing the jitterbug, just the waltz.”

  She laughed.

  He placed his mug on the wooden tabletop and fastened his sharp gaze on her. “Leave town. Give me some time to find this man.”

  “No. I can’t leave my patients.”

  “They’ll be all right without you.”

  “We’re not talking about adults. We’re talking about children. It has taken me months to establish a relationship with some of them. We’re finally making progress. I won’t jeopardize that.”

  One eyebrow rose. “But you will jeopardize your life?”

  “You know that Terri and Adam said I could stay with them for the time being. Adam’s at the station seeing what the police have come up with so far on my attacker.”

  “What about when they’re working?”

  “I haven’t figured out the logistics yet.”

  “Then I’m taking some time off, and I’ll look for the man.”

  “You should be resting.” Hands cold, she cupped her mug, trying to draw some warmth from it.

  “Not gonna happen. How do you expect me to rest and relax with someone after you?”

  “This isn’t an FBI case. New Orleans police are on it.” There was a part of her that was thrilled he had taken an interest in finding her attacker. He was very good at his job. But there was also a part that knew if he was involved in her case he would be around a lot. That disturbed her peace of mind. When she first met him, she’d been attracted to him, but she’d been around men who were loners. He was one of them. He kept his emotions bottled up tightly. She’d dated a man once who was like that, and that relationship had ended badly. She needed more from a man. She needed to feel totally a part of his life.

  “Yes, and I’m sure they are capable, but this is personal. The FBI won’t be involved. This is between your assailant and me.” He gestured toward his head. “I have a lump the size of an egg on my noggin thanks to him.” He took her hand and opened it, palm up. “And look at what he did to you. You’re a friend.” His familiar lopsided grin graced his mouth. “Can you give me a few days to see what I can come up with?”

  “Not go into work?” His touch made her stomach constrict. She quickly withdrew her hand from his.

  “Yep. I’m taking some time off.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do that. There’s one particular little boy who has been traumatized that I’ve made a breakthrough with. I don’t want to lose ground with him. There are other people at my office. I wouldn’t be totally alone.”

  “People trained to defend you?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Then I’ll come with you to work when you have to be there, at least for a few days.”

  “And the other times?” The very idea increased the tightening in her gut.

  “You come with me. We’ll be a team.”

  “Help you solve the case?”

  “Why not? That looks like the only way I can keep tabs on you when you aren’t with Terri or Adam.” He stared down at his coffee. “Besides, I’m not sure I can do this quickly without a lot of input from you.”

  “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal. I want my life back, and finding this man is about the only way I’m going to get it back.”

  “Great. Tell me what he said to you.”

  Jocelyn related the details of the ordeal as matter-of-factly as possible, trying to keep her emotions uninvolved as much as she could because emotions would only get in the way of figuring out who was after her.

  “So you’ve got a father who blames you for ruining his family.”

  “That’s what it looks like. I certainly don’t set out to do that, but sometimes what I deal with in my profession calls for tough action.” Her throat closed around the last few words as she struggled to keep her feelings suppressed.

  “You aren’t alone. We’ll get this man, and you’ll be back in no time helping me put the bad guys behind bars.”

  She pushed to her feet, needing a refill of her coffee, needing breathing room. The memories of the night before seeped into her thoughts, threatening her composure.

  “It’s getting harder to do my job,” she said at the stove.

  She heard the scrape of his chair across the tile floor, knew he was right behind her. But when he touched her arm, she stiffened. The memory of her attacker’s fingers digging into her flesh brought everything crashing down on her.

  Her mug slipped from her fingers, shattering at her feet. Sobs racked her body.

  Chapter Three

  Sam’s gut constricted at the sound of Jocelyn’s cries. He drew her back against him and away from the ceramic shards. His arms encircled her as she wept against his chest. He’d wondered when she would finally let go of the tight rein she had around her emotions. The more he got to know her, the more he realized how much alike they were, at least in regard to keeping their feelings hidden from the world.

  “I’m a good listener, Jocelyn. You know better than most how therapeutic it is to talk about it.”

  She leaned back, still loosely within his embrace. “What we need to talk about is who of my patients’ fathers would come after me.” Wiping away all traces of her tears, she separated herself completely from him.

  Her professional facade fell again into place.

  “Okay, let’s go grab something to eat and discuss this over some food. My treat. I’m starved.”

  “How can I pass that up?”

  * * *

  “I think we’ve got a good start here.” Sam put his pen down on the table at the restaurant.

  Jocelyn remained silent until the waiter removed their plates then said, “I don’t know if I remember everyone. There may be others. Probably are. I’ve had my practice now for five years.” She waved her hand toward the pad Sam always used to take notes. “It’s only lately that I’ve been receiving some referrals that are bad situations.”

  “That’s because you’re an excellent therapist and word spreads.”

  The heat of a blush scored Jocelyn’s cheeks. She’d never known how to accept a compliment gracefully, especially from a handsome man like Sam. “I need to go to my office and check my files to see who I’ve left out. Those are the ones in the past few years. There are a couple that ended up going to prison. You have two of them on the list. There was another at the beginning. All I can remember is his last name, Nelson. Everyone called him by it.”

  “I’ll check these seven out tonight and see where they are. And I’ll take you by your office this evening.”

  With a game plan mapped out, Jocelyn sat back in her chair, relaxing for the first time in a while. All the way through dinner o
f shrimp gumbo with hot French bread, her tension had built with each father added to Sam’s list.

  As the sun began its descent, she slipped her sweater on, a slight chill to the air in the courtyard of the bistro in the French Quarter. Twinkling lights illuminated the growing shadows, giving the place a fairy-tale atmosphere.

  “I know my job can be hard at times, but I don’t know how you do yours.” Jocelyn picked up her water and took a sip. “Searching for missing and kidnapped people. The few cases we’ve worked on haven’t ended as well as the one yesterday. Thankfully, you found the ex-husband who had taken his two sons.”

  “Someone has to do it,” he said offhandedly.

  “But why you?”

  A shutter descended over his expression. “Because it’s a challenge. I refuse to let the bad guys win.”

  There was more to it. She could see it in his eyes, but she wasn’t going to get it out of him. They weren’t even good friends, just working colleagues.

  He rose slowly. “I’ve been sitting too long. Let’s stroll along the Riverwalk before we go to your office.” He held out his hand to her.

  She took it and followed him from the restaurant. Since they weren’t far from the river, they arrived at their destination in minutes.

  As Jocelyn walked beside Sam along the brick path, the scent and sounds of the river filled the air. A large steamboat moored at its dock spoke of the rich history of the city. Behind her the steeple of St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square jutted upward as evening slowly settled in around her.

  Sam paused and faced the Mississippi. “If I’d lived a hundred and fifty years ago, I’d have been a riverboat captain. At least that was my dream as a seven-year-old. I grew up in St. Louis and was always fascinated as a boy by the river.”

  “You didn’t want to be part of the Pinkerton detectives?”

  “Nope. At that age I wasn’t aware of the evil men could do to each other.”

  “If only we could recapture the innocence of a child.”

  “I wish I hadn’t been so innocent when I was a child.” Sam dropped her hand, pivoted away from the water and started forward.

  The glimpse of vulnerability in Sam intrigued her. He always seemed so invincible, plowing like a steamboat through each case he worked. “I’m a good listener, too.”

  He stopped and glanced back at her, one eyebrow lifting. “I know.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth while a sadness lingered in his gaze. “Let’s go to your office. A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours, and I’m afraid you’ll crash on me.”

  She grinned. “I can’t. I’ve got caffeine-rich coffee pumping through my veins.”

  “I’m glad to know you won’t be falling asleep while searching through your files.”

  At his vehicle in the French Quarter, he opened the door for Jocelyn but didn’t step away. “You know, when this is all over with, I’d like to take you out for a proper dinner, not one laden with talk about abusive dads and raving maniacs.”

  “Like a date?”

  A gleam danced in his eyes. “Yes, like a date.” He inched forward, cupping her chin and lifting it toward him. “You’re an attractive, intelligent, caring woman. I don’t have to sugarcoat what I do with you. Will you go out with me after we capture your assailant?”

  His gaze trapped her and melted her against him. She nodded, his look robbing her of the power to talk. His mouth hovered above hers.

  She wanted to stay in his embrace, but sanity returned as noise of the French Quarter filtered into her mind. A couple passed them. Someone came out of a bar down the street. The sound of music and voices drifted to her. She moved back.

  Sam’s arm fell away. He rounded the front of his car and slid in behind the steering wheel.

  For a brief moment, she’d wanted him to kiss her. Why now, when her life was in such a mess? When she was grappling with whether or not to continue being a child psychologist. And worse, when she was struggling in her belief in the Lord.

  “I couldn’t resist any longer,” Sam said.

  He turned the key, put his sedan into Drive and pulled out of the parking space, leaving Jocelyn speechless. For the next twenty minutes, silence ruled the suddenly small confines of his vehicle.

  When he stopped near her office, Jocelyn finally had her floundering emotions under control, and she breathed normally again.

  When Sam reached for the door handle, she grasped his arm to still his movement. “I’m glad you’re working on my case even unofficially.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. One of the reasons I went into law enforcement was to help others. I don’t usually get to help someone I know.”

  “I became a child psychologist for the same reason.” She just didn’t realize how much of an emotional toll it would exact on her. “But I have to confess it isn’t always easy.”

  “Nothing worthwhile in life usually is. But if you had to do it all over again, would you change what you do?”

  “No.”

  “Neither would I.” He opened his door, and light flooded the car’s interior.

  “Now if only I could get as good as you at separating myself from the cases I work on.” She attempted a smile that failed. “How do you do it?”

  “Mostly I pray a lot to God. If I didn’t have Him, I don’t know if I could do my job.” He locked gazes with her. “But there are times I’m not always successful. I see a lot of evil. Usually it’s not directed at children. But when it is, that’s the hardest to deal with.”

  She released a long sigh. “I know. I’m going to have to come up with better coping skills.”

  “Remember when I told you that you weren’t alone. The Lord is always by my side, even during those times I deal with that evil. He’s there to support me and encourage me to do what I know is right.”

  When had she begun doubting that?

  The sudden uncomfortable silence prompted her to say, “We’d better get inside. This may take a while.”

  He twisted away and slipped from the car. For a few seconds she wanted to urge him to stay, to prolong what she must do—search through each patient’s file to see who had a reason to kill her.

  Sam waited for her before proceeding toward the building where her office was. Without saying a word, she rode up the elevator to the third floor with Sam beside her, staring straight ahead. Her dread increased the nearer she came to her office.

  When the doors swished open, he took her hand and stepped off. The physical link bolstered her spirits, and she silently thanked Sam for knowing that.

  As they neared her office, Jocelyn dug into her purse for her keys. Sam slowed his pace. She looked up at him. A frown carved deep lines into his face.

  As she switched her attention toward her door, he asked, “Would one of your colleagues be working late?”

  “On Saturday night? I doubt it,” she answered at the moment she saw her door ajar.

  Sam withdrew his gun and in a barely audible voice said, “Get back.”

  Chapter Four

  “Don’t go in,” Jocelyn whispered, her heart racing. “Get backup or something.”

  “What if he’s still in there?”

  “Exactly.” She grabbed his arm to hold him still.

  “I’m not losing my chance to catch him.” Shrugging out of her hold, he moved slowly toward her office door.

  With her breathing shallow and her palms clammy, she plastered herself against the wall, her gaze fixed on the entrance. Lord, don’t let anything happen to Sam. Please.

  The seconds crawled by. Her anxiety skyrocketed. The only thing that calmed her at all was reciting her prayer over and over as the minute stretched into five.

  Finally Sam popped his head out of the opening. “All clear.”

  Air swooshed out of her
lungs. He’s safe! She started forward. Thank you, Lord.

  He blocked her entrance. “But I need to warn you. He trashed your office. The others are fine, but yours was—”

  She pushed inside and headed for it, mentally preparing herself for what she would see.

  When she stepped through the doorway, she came to a halt, her mouth dropping open. Nothing could prepare her for the rage exhibited throughout the room. Whoever demolished her office was definitely losing it.

  Everything from her books to her furniture was destroyed. The intruder had thrown broken pieces of her chairs and stuffing from her couch over the floor. Pages from magazines, texts and her files littered the whole room. He’d even smashed her computer. Overwhelmed with the sight, she moved a few feet inside, glass crunching beneath her shoes. She looked down and saw her favorite vase shattered. The last gift her father had given her before he died was that etched-glass container with a profusion of lilies. She always kept it filled with flowers.

  Gone.

  That thought hammered home how much the madman had emotionally violated her. Trembling, she hugged herself and felt cold all over.

  She knew Sam was behind her. He made enough noise that she wasn’t surprised when he clasped her and brought her back against him. His arms offered her shelter. His presence gave her the strength she needed finally to move out of his embrace.

  “We’ve got to find him soon, before he escalates even more and his anger toward you is transferred to others.”

  “Like his family,” Jocelyn murmured, chilled at the thought.

  “Yes. Let’s get out of here. I’ll call the police. They may be able to find some evidence that will lead us to him.” Doubt laced his words.

  And Jocelyn understood why. To process this office for forensic evidence would take time she wasn’t sure they had. Her attacker was desperate, and his anger was boiling over. He was searching for a target—her.

  In the reception area, Sam used his cell to contact the police. “We’ll wait for them in the hall.”

  Out in the corridor, he paced. “We’ll work on the names you’ve already come up with and hope the NOPD can salvage some of your files.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I want to make sure our list is a complete one. We need to get him before he succeeds in murdering someone.”