Daughter of Texas

by Terri Reed

  Gisella gave her a funny look. “Ben was promoted to captain. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “No.” But why would he? They weren’t friends. Not really. She wasn’t sure what their relationship was. Or why he’d been so caring toward her. She knew she hadn’t been the kindest and most thoughtful person when he was around. She wondered if he knew that she resented his intrusion into her and her father’s life.

  It didn’t matter now. Her father was gone.

  She set the popcorn aside. “Do you mind if I bail on you? I’m suddenly really tired.”

  “Not at all,” Gisella said, her eyebrows drawing together. “Let me know if I can do anything for you.”

  “Thanks.” Corinna rose and headed toward the spare room Gisella had loaned her. She hoped she’d find some sleep because she knew tomorrow she’d need her strength. Tomorrow she and Ben would be working together to put the final touches on the funeral arrangements. Not a task she was looking forward to.

  A part of her longed to reach out to God for solace. To ask for help, strength, comfort. But she couldn’t. Her heart felt hard within her chest. A cold stone where warmth once had surged.

  Maybe turning to stone was what it was going to take to survive this.

  A scratching noise brought Corinna out of a deep sleep. She lay immobile on the bed. Her mind mentally cataloged her surroundings. She was at Gisella’s, in the spare bedroom. Dresser to the left, door to the right. A window sat opposite from the bed. The blinds were drawn closed and artificial light from the street lamp outside shone through the side cracks. For a moment, she wondered if she’d dreamt the noise.

  A shadow passed by the crack, momentarily blotting out the light seeping in. The scratching resumed. Alarm jolted her heart rate. Someone was trying to get in through the window. She bolted from the bed and ran to Gisella’s room. She rapped on the door before bursting in. “Gisella!”

  The Ranger sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “Corinna? What’s wrong?”

  “I think someone’s trying to get in through my window.”

  Gisella threw back the covers, jumped from the bed in her shorts and T-shirt and retrieved her sidearm from the drawer of her nightstand. “Stay here,” she ordered as she hurried from the room.

  Corinna hated the helpless feeling stealing over her as she sank to the floor and waited for the Ranger to return. A prayer rose but she squashed it. Why pray when she didn’t think God would listen?

  Time ticked slowly by. The silence closed in on Corinna. What was happening? Had the Ranger confronted the person trying to break in? Was she in trouble and in need of help?

  Corinna rose on shaky legs and was about to open the bedroom door when Gisella came back, looking grim.

  “Guy ran off. The SAPD officer gave chase but lost him.” She put her weapon back into the drawer. “He’d removed the screen and was working to jimmie the window lock.”

  Corinna shuddered. “Maybe I should go somewhere else. I don’t want to put you in danger.”

  Gisella gave her a funny look. “Uh, that’s what I get paid the big bucks for. Don’t worry. You’re safe here. SAPD will double the security. Tomorrow I’ll get bolt locks for all the windows.”

  “Why do you think he tried to break in here? What does he want with me?”

  “You can ID him.”

  “Right.” Which gave them the upper hand.

  And hopefully that much closer to bringing the guy to justice.

  But justice wouldn’t bring her father back. Heavy sorrow weighted her down as she returned to her room and tried for sleep that never came. Especially after Gisella called Ben and insisted Corinna talk to him. He’d sounded frantic and she’d been adamant he not come over, saying she really needed to sleep. She hadn’t wanted to deal with him fussing over her when there was nothing he could do anyway. Of course, he hadn’t listened to her and she’d heard him arrive a short time later, but she feigned sleep. She wasn’t sure when he finally left.

  Later the next afternoon, Corinna steeled herself to see Ben as he pulled into the driveway of Gisella’s house.

  “Were you able to get some rest after this morning’s scare?” Ben asked as Corinna slid into the passenger seat. He peered at her with concern.

  She stuffed her gym bag with her dance clothes inside, beneath her feet. “So-so.”

  “This will be over soon. We’ll catch the guy,” he said softly.

  She blinked back sudden tears, hating how close to the surface they were. She missed her father terribly. She despaired that no amount of time would heal the empty space in her life. The haunting image of her father’s dead body tortured her mind. She focused her gaze on the afternoon traffic in an attempt to clear her thoughts.

  At the Rangers’ headquarters Ben escorted her to the conference room. She was acutely aware of his hand at the base of her back, the slight pressure both reassuring and chaotic to her system. She wanted to turn to him and curl into his embrace and forget that the world and its evil existed.

  But she didn’t.

  She wanted to be tougher than that. She wanted to stand on her own two feet, not lean on a man, even one like Ben. She wanted to be her father’s daughter. Strong and courageous. And in control.

  When they stepped inside the conference room, she moved away from him. Better to not to have him touching her so she could think.

  Corinna smiled at the lone woman sitting at the big oval table. She was pretty with wispy brunette hair and wide green eyes. Next to an open laptop computer on the table, a sketch pad and pencil waited.

  Ben made the introductions.

  Corinna offered the other woman her hand. “Nice to meet you, Paige. Thank you for coming down to San Antonio on such short notice.”

  “I didn’t mind at all.” She touched Corinna’s hand and said, “I’m so sorry about your father.”

  Swallowing back a lump of sorrow, Corinna murmured, “Thank you.”

  Paige gathered her materials. “Shall we get to work?”

  Ben held out a chair for Corinna. When she was seated, he said, “I’ll be back in a bit. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be in my—your father’s—office.”

  For a moment his expression crumbled, revealing the heartache he was trying so hard to hide.

  Her own sorrow answered by thumping against her ribs and burning the backs of her eyelids. Against her will, Corinna’s heart twisted with pain and empathy. Gisella had told her Ben had been promoted to captain. The news had hurt at first, more concrete evidence her father was gone, but it was selfish not to wish Ben well. And clearly he was uncomfortable assuming her father’s office as his own.

  She touched his arm before he could turn away. “It’s your office now. I know Dad would be proud to have you taking over. It’s what he groomed you for.”

  Ben laid a hand over hers and gave a slight squeeze. “Thank you.”

  She held his gaze until she couldn’t stand to see her own anguish reflected in the hazel depths. Swallowing hard, she drew her hand back and studied her nails.

  “Ladies,” Ben said and exited the room.

  Corinna focused on Paige and the task that needed to be accomplished. “So how do we do this?”

  Paige explained and Corinna tried to recall the man she’d shot at the night before.

  Paige paused with her pencil hovering above the paper. “Were his eyes wide set or closer together?”

  “I don’t—” Frustrated with her memory, Corinna shrugged. “I can’t say for sure. I barely caught a glimpse of him.”

  Paige smiled, her brown eyes gentle. “I know this is difficult. Can you close your eyes and visualize the moment you saw him?”

  With a sigh, Corinna closed her eyes and thought back to the split second when the man, outlined by the moon against the open patio doors, had turned to face her. “His eyes were not wide set. But not too close together either.”

  “Were they round or almond-shaped?”

  “More almond-shaped but wide at the center. And
dark. The man was definitely Hispanic.” Corinna opened her eyes, excited to remember a few details. “He had a high forehead and his eyebrows were bushy.”

  Paige’s hand moved quickly, the scratch of pencil scraping against paper the only sound in the room. When Paige turned the sketch around, she said, “Something like this?”

  Corinna studied the image of a man’s face. Was he the man who’d broken into her home? She bit her lip in uncertainty.

  The drawing showed an oval face, bushy eyebrows, a high forehead and oval eyes. Very generic features. Paige had penciled in straight, short hair swept back. The man seemed familiar but then again…she’d looked through hundreds of mug shots and so many had seemed familiar. “It could be. But I couldn’t swear to it in a court of law.”

  “If Ben can catch this guy and he has the murder weapon that killed Captain Pike, then you won’t have to testify,” Paige said matter-of-factly.

  But if the murder weapon wasn’t found, linking the man who’d broken into her father’s house to the murder, then Corinna’s testimony could be the only thing standing in the way of his freedom. She couldn’t make a mistake.

  Doing so could cost her her life.

  She wished she could pray for God to orchestrate the killer’s downfall. But she’d given up hope that God listened to her prayers.

  She’d just have to trust in Ben’s ability to do his job. And hope Ben got to the killer before he got to Corinna.

  Ben sat at the mahogany desk, in front of him were several stacks of files that needed to be reviewed—a few from Greg’s office at the station and many from his home office. He’d cleared out the file cabinet and the desk drawers at both places, but so far hadn’t found any clues that revealed what his captain had been working on. They’d searched Greg’s office in the Pike house once again after this latest break-in, but still, nothing.

  Every minute ticking by meant the killer was that much closer to getting away with murder.

  Dropping his head into his hands, Ben prayed. “Please, Lord, let me find something, anything, which will lead us to the person who killed my friend and mentor. I ask this in Your Son’s name, amen.”

  “Do you always pray when you’re working?”

  He lifted his head to find Corinna standing in the doorway. A piece of paper fluttered in her hand. Awareness of how angry she was at God made Ben want to tread tenderly.

  He nodded. “I pray whenever I feel the need. I know God listens no matter where I am. Your father taught me as much.”

  The derision in her expression left no doubt she disagreed and that pained him. She shrugged as she walked farther into the office. Her snug capri pants, loose-fitting blouse and sandals emphasized her diminutive stature. She appeared younger than her twenty-five years with dark circles under her eyes marring her porcelain-pale complexion.

  He gestured to the paper she held. “May I see the sketch?”

  She glided forward, her gaze taking in the desk and the wall full of her father’s achievements. Her mouth tightened as if she were trying hard to keep her emotions held back.

  Sympathy swelling, Ben rose and rounded the desk. Compelled by the need to touch her, he laid a hand on her bare arm, her skin warm, her bones so delicate. “Are you holding up?”

  “Yes.” The single word held a world of hurt and anguish.

  His chest tightened. He wrapped his arms around her, offering her what comfort he could, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough. How did he soothe away the loss of a parent? He couldn’t. And he was a fool to try.

  For a split second, she seemed to melt, but just as quickly, she became rigid, withdrawing into herself before pulling out of his arms. He let his hands drop to his sides, unsure why her rejection hurt. It wasn’t like he had any emotional investment in her other than his promise to Greg.

  Yeah, sure, he thought she was beautiful in the way one thought a sparkling piece of jewelry behind a glass case was beautiful. And he certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

  But he didn’t understand why every time she was around he felt compelled to draw her to him, to shield her, to make her hurt go away. He decided it was only because she seemed so vulnerable and fragile, as if any second she’d shatter into a million pieces. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “Here.” She set the sheet of paper on the desk.

  Shifting his focus back to business, he picked the paper up. The face staring up at him could have been any number of men walking around the streets of San Antonio, or all of Texas, for that matter. But the sketch was a start. “I’ll get this circulating.”

  “Paige said she has a photo to show you,” Corinna said. “She’s still in the conference room.”

  “Thanks. If you can give me a few minutes, I’ll take you back to Gisella’s,” Ben said. “And we can go over the funeral arrangements.”

  She closed her eyes as if in pain. “Can we do that later tonight?” When she opened her eyes and stared at him he saw the plea in her pretty gaze. “I’m really not up for that right now. I’d rather go to the studio. I really need to rehearse. The benefit show is less than a week away.”

  He admired her dedication in the face of such grief. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  Some unidentifiable emotion flickered deep in her eyes. “I need to.”

  Respect for her courage filled him. He understood that need. Working the case was helping him to deal with his own sorrow. Dancing might help her heal. Or at least take her mind off her grief.

  “Okay. I’ll have an SAPD officer outside the studio at all times. You are not to go off anywhere alone,” he said with a pointed look.

  One corner of her mouth tipped upward in acknowledgement. “I can live with that. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  Satisfied, he led her from the office back to the conference room. Oliver had a hip hiked on the table near Paige.

  Oliver straightened as they entered the room. “Paige was just telling me you caught a glimpse of the guy who broke into your house last night.”

  Ben showed him the sketch. “I want every law enforcement officer within a hundred-mile radius to have a copy of this. We need to catch this guy.”

  Oliver studied the picture with a furrowed brow. “Sure, boss.” He loped out of the conference room.

  Paige stood and withdrew a photo from a large square leather case. “I took the liberty of enhancing the photo of the second shooting victim. Since our facial recognition software has been unsuccessful in identifying this man, I thought you might want to release his picture to the public.”

  Ben took the photo. It looked like coma guy, but in the rendering the man’s eyes were open and his face clean shaven. “How do you know he has blue eyes?”

  Paige arched an eyebrow. “I stopped by the hospital on the way in and took a peek. The imaging software on my laptop is top notch. It was easy to plug in coma guy’s specs and come up with a nearly flawless image. Thankfully, you all have good quality printers here.”

  “Great job.” Ben walked to the door and called out, “Anderson!”

  A few seconds later, Anderson Michaels appeared in the doorway. He flashed the ladies a charming smile before addressing Ben. “You rang?”

  Ben handed him the photo of coma guy. “See what you can do about getting this on the air. Hopefully, someone will come forward with some information.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” Anderson took the photo.

  Ben shook Paige’s hand. “Thank you. You did good work today.”

  Paige gave him a friendly but sad smile. “I just hope we catch this perp.”

  “We’ll walk out with you,” Ben said. They all left the building together. Ben made sure Paige was on her way in her car before he started his Jeep. Corinna struggled with the passenger seat belt.

  “Problem?” he asked.

  “It’s twisted,” she muttered.

  “Here, let me.” He leaned over to reach for the top of the shoulder harness. His chest came in contact with her shoulder. Her breath fanned o
ut over his neck; the scent of her orangey shampoo filled his senses. His gaze traveled over her face. The complexity of longing and frustration playing across her features fascinated him. He searched her warm brown eyes.

  His breathing hitched as an answering longing hit the pit of his stomach and worked its way into the vicinity of his heart. His hand slid along the rough material of the shoulder strap, his fingers trailing inches from her body as he unwound the harness. He stopped at the buckle and secured the seat belt into place with a click.

  And still he stayed in place, leaning close, maintaining the contact of his chest to her shoulder. He savored her scent and the way her mouth opened slightly as if she, too, was having as much trouble catching her breath as he was.

  It would be so easy to dip his head and claim her mouth. Too easy to lose himself in the moment. Too easy to forget that she was Greg’s daughter and way off-limits.

  But not that easy.

  He lurched away and gripped the steering wheel. He had to remember his promise. No matter how magnetic Corinna’s draw was on him. Greg had counted on Ben to protect her. And that meant from himself, as well as the rest of the world.

  SEVEN

  As Ben drove through town, Corinna fought to regain control of her breathing. For a moment, she’d thought Ben was going to kiss her. Anticipation had thrummed through her system, setting her already taut nerves on high alert. But then he’d jerked back, leaving her feeling disappointed and irrational for even contemplating a kiss.

  She glanced discreetly at his profile. His ruggedly handsome features were grim with concentration. More concentration than the afternoon traffic warranted. His big, strong hands gripped the wheel, turning his knuckles white as he drove through downtown San Antonio. Clearly, he was upset.

  Because he’d wanted to kiss her?