Branded by the Sheriff

by Delores Fossen

“Don’t worry about your brother. He can take care of himself.”

  “I’m not so sure of that, especially if you’re manipulating him in some way.” And if Nolan was in contact with her brother, then he was almost certainly manipulating him. “Where are you, Nolan?”

  “Just get me that money,” he said, ignoring her question.

  Faith tried again. “Where are you?”

  “I’m closer than you think, sweet cakes.”

  With that, Nolan hung up.

  Faith looked in the doorway of the family room, where Tracy and the Ranger were standing. Sgt. McKinney took her phone and relayed the numbers to someone on the other end of his own cell-phone line.

  A moment later, the sergeant shook his head. “The guy was using a prepaid cell phone. We couldn’t trace it.”

  Faith didn’t have time to groan because she heard the garage door open. Beck was home. And she raced to meet him. One look at his face, however, told her that he didn’t have any better news than she did.

  Beck took off his muddy cowboy boots and dropped them on the laundry-room floor. “I couldn’t find the shooter.”

  Because he looked exhausted and beyond frustrated, Faith motioned for him to go into the family room so he could sit down. He smelled like the woods and sweat, and there were bits of dried leaves and twigs on his clothes.

  “What about the shell casings?” Sgt. McKinney asked. “Caldwell called and said you’d found some at the scene.”

  “We did. They’re Winchester ballistic silver tips.” Beck looked at her. “They’re used for long-range shooting. Coupled with what was probably a thermal camera or scope, I’m guessing the shooter had what we call a hog rifle. It’s used for hunting wild hogs or boars at night.”

  “This type of weapon is rare?” she asked hopefully.

  “Not around here. I know of at least a half dozen people who own one. Wild boars can be dangerous to people and livestock so they’re usually hunted when they show up too close to the ranches.”

  Maybe Nolan had gotten his hands on one of these rifles. “Nolan Wheeler called a few minutes ago,” she filled him in. “We couldn’t trace the call.”

  The fatigue vanished. The concern returned. “What did he want?”

  “Money. A hundred grand to be exact. He wants me to give him more than half of my inheritance. But he didn’t tell me how I could find him.”

  I’m closer than you think.

  She pushed aside the chill from remembering Nolan’s final remark. “He’ll call back.” Faith was certain of that. “He’ll want that cash. And maybe we can use it to draw him out.”

  Beck hesitated a moment. Then nodded. “But you won’t be the one who’s drawing him out. No more playing bait.”

  Faith was still too shaky to argue with him. Nor did she argue when Beck reached out and pulled her closer. That was all it took. That bit of comfort. And Faith felt the tears well up in her eyes.

  “I could use a cup of coffee,” Tracy said, and she hitched her shoulder toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you join me?” she asked Sgt. McKinney.

  Faith didn’t mind the obvious ploy to leave her and Beck alone because the tears started to spill down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  Beck pulled her even closer to him and closed his arms around her. She took everything he was offering her, even though it was wrong. Beck had been through that shooting, too, and he wasn’t falling apart.

  “I’m not ashamed of crying,” she said, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. Beck wiped away the other cheek. “But I wish I wasn’t doing this in front of you.”

  “Why?” With his fingers still on tear-wiping duty, he caught her gaze, and the corner of his mouth hitched. “Because I’m the enemy?”

  “No. Because you’re Beckett Tanner.”

  The smile didn’t fully materialize, and his fingers stayed in place. Warm on her cheek. “What would that have to do with it?”

  “I always wanted to impress you. Or at least get your attention in a good way.” She blamed the confession on the adrenaline crash and the fatigue.

  “You succeeded. You got my attention. Even back then, before you left town.” He slid his fingers down her cheek to her chin and lifted it slightly. As if he were readjusting it for a kiss. “You were about sixteen, and I saw you coming out of the grocery store on Main. You were wearing this short red dress. Trust me, I noticed.”

  Faith was stunned. “So why didn’t you ask me out or something?”

  “Because you were sixteen and I was twenty. The term jailbait comes to mind. I decided it’d be best to wait a couple of years.”

  For a moment, she got a glimpse of what life could have been if there hadn’t been the incident at the motel. Of course, Beck’s family would have never accepted her, and besides, the attraction would have run its youthful course and burned out.

  She looked at him again.

  Maybe not.

  His mouth came to hers. Just a brush of his lips, and then he pulled back. When his gaze met hers again, the trip down memory lane was over. He drew her into his arms again. But it had nothing to do with kisses or sex. He eased her onto the sofa and simply held her.

  For some reason, it seemed more intimate than a real kiss.

  “I’m a good cop,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “But I’ve made mistakes. I nearly let you get killed tonight.”

  So he was feeling guilty, too. “You couldn’t have known that was going to happen.”

  “Yes, I did. I should have nixed that bait plan right from the start.”

  “It worked out all right,” she assured him. Though they both knew that was a lie. They’d have nightmares about this for years. “I would just leave town, but I’m afraid this monster will follow me.”

  He made a sound of agreement.

  Faith’s phone rang again. She jolted. Her body was still on full alert. The caller had blocked the number.

  “Nolan again,” she mumbled. She answered the call and held the phone between Beck and her so he could hear as well.

  “Hello, Faith.”

  It was a man all right. But not Nolan.

  “Darin?” Though it wasn’t a question. She knew it was her brother’s voice. “God, I’ve been so worried about you. Where are you?”

  “I can’t say.” He sounded genuinely sad about not being able to tell her that detail. “I called to warn you. You’re in danger.”

  “Yes. From Nolan.” She moved to the edge of the sofa. “I think he tried to kill me tonight.”

  “Maybe. But watch out for the Tanners. You can’t trust them, Faith. They want to hurt you.”

  She wasn’t exactly surprised after what had happened at the hotel. “Who, Nicole Tanner?”

  “All of them. The whole family. If Sherry was alive, she’d tell you the same. It’s about those letters. Something went wrong with the letters.”

  Now she was surprised. “Darin, I don’t understand—what letters? What do you mean?”

  He stayed silent for several long moments. “Just be careful.”

  “Don’t go,” she said when she thought he was about to hang up. “I want to see you. Can we meet somewhere?”

  That earned her a sharp look from Beck.

  “No meeting,” Darin insisted. “Not yet. It isn’t safe. Not for you. Not for Aubrey.”

  “Aubrey?” Her breath practically froze in her throat.

  Beck had a slightly different response. She saw the anger wash over him, and he tried to take the phone. She shook her head and eased her hand over the receiver. “He’ll hang up if he knows you’re listening,” she mouthed.

  “Aubrey’s in danger because of the letters,” Darin continued a moment later.

  “Who has these letters?” Faith asked. “Nolan?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  If those letters contained something sinister, then Nolan was almost certainly involved. “Then I need to find him. Where is he?”

  “He�
�s here in LaMesa Springs.”

  Here.

  I’m closer than you think.

  And that meant Darin was probably in town, too.

  “Yes, but where in LaMesa Springs?” Faith pressed.

  “He’s in the attic.”

  Faith flattened her hand over her chest to steady her heart. Mercy, was Nolan here at Beck’s house? “What attic?” And she held her breath, waiting.

  “At the house. Your house. He said the lock on the back door was broken so he went inside and climbed into the attic so he could wait for you. He got there before the cops and Rangers and then stayed quiet so they wouldn’t hear him moving around.”

  “Darin?” Faith forced herself to talk. Nolan could be dealt with later. “I want to see you. Please.”

  But she was talking to herself. Her brother had already hung up.

  Beck pulled out his own phone and jabbed in some numbers. Since the room was so quiet, Faith had no trouble hearing the man who answered. It was Sgt. Caldwell.

  “Are you still at the Matthews house?” Beck asked the Ranger.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Check the attic. But be careful. One of our suspects, Nolan Wheeler, might be up there.”

  “I’ll call you back,” Caldwell let him know.

  Beck hung up and looked at her. “Do you know anything about those letters Darin mentioned?”

  She shook her head. This wasn’t something she wanted to discuss right now. She wanted to know what was going on in that attic. But at least the conversation would keep her mind off the wait. Plus, this was important. “It sounded as if he believed they were connected to your family.”

  “Yeah, it did. But this is Darin, remember? He might not be mentally stable right now. Still,” Beck continued before she could say anything, “I’ll call my father in the morning and set up a meeting. I want to ask him about the convenience store anyway.”

  With everything else that was going on, she’d nearly forgotten about that. “I think it’s pretty clear that he told Pete and maybe even Nicole that I was back in town. After all, your brother called you when I was still at your office. That was only a couple of hours after the rock throwing incident.”

  He mumbled another “yeah” and checked his watch.

  “Sgt. Caldwell will be careful,” she said more to herself than Beck.

  But she prayed nothing went wrong and that the Ranger didn’t get hurt. Besides, her brother could have been wrong. Beck was right about Darin possibly being delusional. God knows how much of what he said was real or a product of his mental illness.

  Beck’s phone rang, and he answered it immediately. He clicked on the speakerphone function.

  “There’s no one in the attic,” Sgt. Caldwell explained. “But someone’s been here. There’s a discarded fast-food bag and graffiti.”

  “Kids maybe?” Beck asked.

  “I don’t think kids did this.” His comment and tone upped the chill coursing through her. “I used my camera phone to take some pictures of the walls. I’m sending four of them to you now.”

  Beck went to the phone menu and pressed a few buttons. The first picture started to load on the screen.

  Yes, it was definitely the attic. And though she couldn’t see the fast-food bag the sergeant had described, she could see the wall that he’d captured in the photograph. Someone had taken red paint—at least she hoped it was paint—and written on the rough wood planks.

  It was a calendar of sorts, crudely drawn squares, some blank, some with writing inside. The dates went back to a month earlier. She couldn’t make out the writing and motioned for Beck to go to the next picture. It was the square with the date November 11th.

  Inside the box someone had written:

  Sherry dies.

  Faith swallowed hard. That was indeed the day Sherry had been killed. But anyone who knew her sister would have had that information.

  The next picture showed the date. November 12th. The caption inside:

  Annie dies.

  Her mother’s name was Annie, and like the previous caption, it was correct. Her mother had been murdered then.

  Picture three was dated January 12th with the words:

  Faith’s homecoming.

  Yes, she had come home then. And someone had thrown rocks through her window.

  God, had Nolan been there that whole time, waiting for her, watching her? The security had been set up to keep anyone from getting in, but what if he was already inside?

  Beck clicked another button and the final picture loaded. There was a date: January 14th.

  Tomorrow’s date.

  And beneath it were two words that caused her to gasp.

  Faith dies.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Faith was not going to die today.

  Beck wouldn’t let that happen.

  It riled the hell out of him to think of the death threat that’d been left in her attic. It had shaken Faith to the core. Immediately after seeing those pictures on the phone, she’d sat motionless in his arms while he rattled off how he was going to put an end to this.

  The handwriting and fast-food bag would be analyzed. That was a given. As would the shell casings collected from the attack the night before. But there was something else Beck could do. He could keep Faith away from her house. If he didn’t let her out of his sight, he could protect her.

  He hoped that’d be enough.

  So, after giving her all the assurance he could, he’d sent her off to bed, where he was sure she hadn’t gotten any sleep. He certainly hadn’t. But that didn’t matter. He could sleep later. Right now, he had to solve the case. The devil was in the details, and there was one detail he could further investigate.

  He’d already called his father at the family ranch and asked about the encounter with the taxi driver at the convenience store and the mysterious letters that Darin had mentioned to Faith. His father had become defensive, saying that it wasn’t a good time to talk, but Beck didn’t think it was his imagination that his dad was confused about those letters. Surprised, even. Maybe that meant his family had nothing to do with any potential evidence.

  Maybe.

  Since Pete and Nicole also lived on the grounds of the ranch, Beck would extend his questions to them and have that chat about giving Faith a much-needed break.

  Beck got up from the kitchen table and poured himself another cup of coffee. He could hear the TV in the family room, where Tracy was having her breakfast. She was alone since the Ranger had left to assist with the processing of the crime scene at Faith’s house. Beck had wanted to be part of that, but not at the expense of leaving Faith and Aubrey.

  Before he could return to his seat and his case notes, he heard soft uneven footsteps. A moment later, Aubrey appeared. She was wearing a yellow corduroy dress and no shoes, just socks with lace at the tops.

  She smiled and waved at him.

  Just like that, the weight of the world seemed to leave his shoulders. “Good morning,” he told her.

  She babbled something with several syllables and went straight to him. “Up, up,” she said.

  Beck set his coffee aside and out of her reach, and he picked her up. Aubrey rewarded him with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “She’s faster than she used to be,” Marita said, hurrying in. The nanny stopped and eyed them. “And she seems to think you’re her new best friend.”

  There was worry in the woman’s tone. Beck understood that. Faith had probably told her about their bitter past, but as far as Beck was concerned, that wasn’t going to play a part in how he felt about his new best friend.

  “Anything come back on that stuff you found in her attic?” Marita asked, helping herself to a cup of coffee. “Faith just told me about all of that while she was getting dressed.”

  So that’s where she was. Beck had hoped she was still in bed. “We’ll try to link the writing to Nolan Wheeler.”

  Marita flexed her eyebrows and had a sip of coffee. “Or Faith’s brother.”

&nb
sp; Beck nodded and realized that Aubrey was studying him with those intense, cocoa-brown eyes. The little girl finally reached out and pinched his nose. She giggled. And Beck wondered how anyone could be in a bad mood around this child.

  From the doorway, Faith stepped into view, studying him. She’d put on a pair of dark brown pants and a coppery top that was nearly the same color as her eyes. She’d pulled her shoulder-length hair into ponytail, a style that made him think of fashion models.

  And kissing her neck.

  He frowned, hating how he couldn’t control those thoughts that kept popping into his head.

  “I fixed some eggs,” Beck let Marita and Faith know. He considered asking Faith how she was, but he knew the answer. Her eyes said it all. She was troubled and weary. Fear and adrenaline could do that.

  Marita went to the stove and lifted the lid to a terra-cotta server. “This looks good. Really good.”

  “I put in a little smoked sausage and Asiago cheese.” He got a little uncomfortable when both women stared at him. “I left some plain for Aubrey. If she can eat eggs, that is. I wasn’t sure.”

  Great. Now he was babbling and sounding like a contestant on some cooking or parenting show.

  Thankfully, Marita quit staring at him as if he had a third eye. She dished up some eggs and sampled them. “Mmm. A man who can cook. I think I’m in love,” she joked.

  “It’s a hobby,” Beck explained.

  Faith smiled. An actual real smile. And that made all of his discomfort worth it. He wasn’t embarrassed about his hobby, but it wasn’t exactly something a man with his true Texas upbringing liked to brag about. Barbecuing steaks was one thing, but stove cooking and a cowboy image didn’t always mesh.

  It didn’t take long, however, for Faith’s smile to fade. “Anything new on the investigation?”

  Yeah. And it was news she wasn’t going to like. “There were no prints on the rocks and no match on the shoe impression. The sole was too worn to come up with anything distinguishable. Also, the track could have been there a day or two. It wasn’t necessarily made by the rock thrower.”

  Faith stayed quiet, processing that information.

  Aubrey pointed to the window, obviously wanting to go closer and look out, but Beck moved her farther away from it. The danger was just too great to do normal things, and if a gunman could shoot into Faith’s house, he could do the same to Beck’s if he found out Faith and Aubrey were there. He couldn’t let that happen.