Texas Sheriff's Deadly Mission

by Karen Whiddon

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze straight on. “Yolanda Sanders told me you’ve been contacting high school girls, trying to befriend them. Is this true?”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. Clearly, she was serious. “Of course not,” he answered, still not entirely certain this wasn’t a joke. “Why would she say such a thing?”

  “I’m going to need your cell phone,” Rayna said. “You can hand it over willingly, or I’ll get a warrant. Believe me, it will go better for you if you cooperate.”

  “Better for me...” Digging his phone out of his pocket, he handed it over. “Rayna, you know me. Why would you think I’d do something like this?”

  Careful not to look at him, she pulled an evidence bag from her bag and dropped the phone in it. “Why would anyone do something like that? In fact—” she rounded on him, her mouth a hard, tight line “—why would someone kill young women and bury them in shallow graves? Are you sure you’re looking for Nicole? Or have you already found her?”

  With that, she exited the room, back ramrod straight, face expressionless, though clearly working at not crying.

  Stunned and shocked, he let her go, no longer certain of anything except that she had the wrong person. He could almost swear he felt his heart break.

  How could Rayna, his Rayna, the woman he’d shared so much of himself with, believe he was capable of such a thing? Did she even truly know him?

  The other thing he didn’t understand was if someone else had used his photograph, why target him? Could it be because he refused to give up in his search for Nicole?

  Not knowing what else to do, he went looking for Sam. He found his uncle sitting by the pool, sipping on a drink in a red plastic cup.

  “Why do you look like someone punched you in the gut?” Sam drawled. Then, eyes widening in alarm, the older man sat bolt upright. “Damn. Please tell me they didn’t find Nicole’s body.”

  “No, not that.” Parker pulled out a chair and sat down. He outlined Rayna’s accusations and the fact that she’d confiscated his phone. “I’m not sure which bothers me worse,” he concluded. “The fact that someone is pretending to be me or the way Rayna obviously believes it.”

  Sam swore. “I hate technology,” he griped. “That’s one of the reasons I retired. All those social media apps. I’ve heard too many times about some creep using one of them to stalk a young, trusting girl.”

  “At least once they check out my phone, they’ll see it wasn’t me,” Parker said. “I’m also guessing they’ll contact the application to verify the IP address. Why on earth someone would do this to me, I’ll never understand. I’m way too old to begin with.”

  Sam studied him. “They’re not only messing with you, they’re trying to shake Rayna. Whoever is doing this must not only know her past, but is aware the two of you are...close.”

  “Were,” Parker put in sharply. “She’s made it clear what she really thinks of me. Lowlife scum, apparently.”

  “Give her a break.” Sam touched Parker’s arm. “She trusted and loved a guy who not only used her, but made a complete fool of her. It cost her the respect of her colleagues. She almost lost her job. The smallest sign that such a thing is happening again would definitely set her off.”

  “No.” Parker shook his head. “She didn’t even give me a chance to speak. Just showed up like judge, jury and executioner. She didn’t ask any questions or even ask for a plausible explanation. It’s clear what she thinks of me.”

  “And what the entire town is going to think of you,” Sam added, “once this gets out. Maybe it’d be wise for you to skedaddle back up to Dallas and let the investigation go on without you.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” Frustration and rage simmered over. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I can’t show up at John’s bedside without his little sister. Plus, if I did that, it would look like I’m guilty and running away. Since I’m not, I’m staying put until Nicole is found. This is a mess.”

  “Right now, it is. But it all will work out once Rayna and her crew realize you have nothing to do with this. It’s called catfishing, I believe.”

  Parker snorted. “I know what it’s called. I think everyone alive on the face of this earth does. So why didn’t that possibility even occur to Rayna?”

  Sam stared. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

  This stopped Parker in his tracks. “Maybe,” he finally admitted. “Or I thought I did. Obviously, I made a mistake.”

  “No, you didn’t. Let Rayna do her job. Right now that’s got to be her first priority, even over you.”

  Though intellectually, Parker could understand, he still smarted from the way she’d instantly believed the accusations against him. Even once he was cleared—which he would be—he knew he’d have a lot of trouble getting past that. It felt like betrayal.

  Parker stood. “I’m going back to my room,” he said, his head aching. “I need to think.”

  “I understand.” Sam heaved a sigh, his face expressionless. “For the record, I know damn good and well you could never do what you’re being accused of. And that sort of thing is pretty easy to disprove. Eventually, Rayna’s going to realize she accused the wrong person.”

  “Maybe so,” Parker replied. “But by then, it’s going to be too damn late.”

  All the way back to his room, he replayed the conversation with Rayna. What he could have said, should have said, and what she hadn’t. In the end, the what-ifs irritated him enough that he dialed her number.

  “Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice mail system.” Of course she wasn’t taking his calls. He considered going to see her in person, but decided it might be better to wait until they both had cooled off. After all, like Sam said, if disproving the accusations against him turned out to be easy, he imagined he’d be hearing from Rayna as soon as that happened.

  A knock came on his door. Parker opened it, surprised to see the owner of the Landshark standing outside. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah.” David McMartin shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “What?” Certain he hadn’t heard correctly, Parker stepped outside. To his surprise, McMartin moved back.

  “You’ve got to go,” the motel owner repeated, his voice firm. “As in, now.”

  “I’ve prepaid for the rest of the week,” Parker pointed out. “What’s going on? I haven’t broken any rules or damaged anything.”

  The hard look on the older man’s face should have warned him. “I can’t have someone who tries to pick up teenage girls staying in my motel. In fact, most of Getaway would prefer you to leave town.”

  Though he shouldn’t have been, Parker was shocked at how quickly gossip traveled in this town. “First off, I didn’t do what I’ve been accused of. And second, no arrest warrant has been issued, so you have no legal grounds to toss me out.”

  “I don’t care.” McMartin set his chin in a hard line. “My motel, my rules. Pack your stuff up and get the hell out. If you’re not gone within thirty minutes, I’m calling the sheriff’s office.”

  Parker crossed his arms. “Go ahead and call them. Because I’m not going anywhere.” He closed the door in the other man’s face.

  Too agitated to sit, he paced the small room. This entire thing had gotten ridiculous. First he’d been accused of something he hadn’t done and next it seemed he’d been convicted without a trial.

  While he waited to see what would happen, he used the hotel room phone and called Sam. When he told his uncle what McMartin had said, Sam swore.

  “Let me call Rayna,” Sam said, ending the call before Parker could protest. Staring at the bulky old-fashioned phone, he realized he’d still have to deal with her, no matter how much doing so would hurt. She’d instantly thought the worst of him, even after having gone through something similar hers
elf. He still couldn’t get over how much that hurt.

  He’d come to care for her. Far more than he should have. With that acknowledged, he realized it had been in the back of his mind to return to Getaway and put down roots. All because he’d fallen for a woman who didn’t reciprocate the feelings.

  Some noises from outside the parking lot had him going to the window and peering outside. His first concern—his bike—proved to be false. Instead, there appeared to be a group of men pulling their pickup trucks in a circle and gathering in the parking lot.

  For him? Surely not. Though when he considered what he’d been accused of and how he might have reacted had it been his daughter who’d been approached, he could understand.

  Should he call Rayna? Or, he amended, aware he needed to think more impersonally, the Getaway Sheriff’s Office?

  Deciding to wait for now, he walked away from the window and turned on the television.

  Sam called a few minutes later. “Have you seen what’s going on outside?”

  “I did. What do you think they’re doing?”

  “Not sure,” Sam admitted. “But I’m about to go out there and find out.”

  “Did you talk to Rayna?” Despite everything, Parker’s heart rate accelerated just saying her name. Proving, he thought wryly, that he really was a fool.

  “Not yet. I’ll call her after I get a handle on what’s actually going on. For all we know, they could be getting together to go bowling or something.”

  This supposition made Parker laugh. “Right. Would you mind filling me in on what you find out?”

  “No problem.” As was his way, Sam ended the call without saying goodbye.

  Parker found himself pacing the small room, unable to concentrate on the television, so he turned it off. Frustrated, he grabbed his laptop and pulled up one of the larger social media sites, even though it seemed he remembered hearing that teens didn’t use it as much.

  He went straight to his own profile, a place he rarely visited except to post photos of cars he’d restored. Nothing new there.

  Next, he typed his name into a search bar. A moment later, he saw another profile with the same name and picture. Clicking on it, he reported it as false. While he wasn’t sure what social media site the teenagers had been contacted on, he knew he didn’t want to go there. He reached for his phone, intending to take a screen shot of both his profile page and the false one, since he knew it would soon be taken down, but realized Rayna still had it.

  Again, he itched to talk to her about this, even if he had to use the motel room phone.

  Beyond that, he didn’t know what else to do to prove his innocence. He knew his cell phone wouldn’t show any record of calls or texts or whatever with teenage girls because he hadn’t made them. Would that be enough? What was enough in a situation like this?

  He cursed, feeling trapped. Should he get an attorney? Telling himself to calm down, he reminded himself that formal charges hadn’t been made. There actually was good reason why not. Not enough evidence.

  The room phone rang, startling him. Sam again, sounding grim and pissed off. “They’re here for you,” he said. “Ted Sanders and some of his buddies put the word out. Most of these guys out there are fathers of teenage daughters.”

  “What do they want?” Parker asked, wary.

  “Your blood.” Sam snorted. “McMartin is about to blow a gasket. He’s afraid they might try to burn your motel room down to get to you. I’m sure he’s called the sheriff by now.”

  “Burn my...” Parker shook his head, disbelieving. “Are you serious?”

  “Sort of. Listen, these guys are just talking right now. They want to beat the tar out of you. But give ’em a few beers and that might escalate. That’s why Rayna and her people need to get out here and break this up before it gets any worse. I’m going to call her now.”

  “Sam...” But Sam had already gone.

  Parker wanted to slam his fist into the wall.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long to get a judge to issue a warrant, which Rayna passed along electronically to Parker’s cell phone carrier. Detailed phone records were sent to her immediately. While she felt oddly guilty perusing Parker’s personal call history, fury and regret still made her mouth taste like ash. She reviewed every call with single-minded intent, looking for anything to prove or disprove his guilt or innocence.

  She hated the thought that she’d been played again, taken in by a man who’d pretended to be something he was not. This had driven her to act impulsively, unprofessionally, which she regretted. However, if Parker was guilty, she’d make sure he was brought to a swift and ruthless justice.

  Except... In her mind, there wasn’t a single possible scenario where she could imagine Parker doing what Yolanda Sanders had accused him of. She truly didn’t believe Parker had done anything wrong. If that turned out to be the case, then she had treated him terribly, the same way people had once treated her without any proof that she’d done something wrong.

  Thinking back to that time, she considered the difference between Parker and Jimmy Wayne. With Jimmy Wayne, it had been different. The instant he’d been arrested and charged, she’d suddenly understood the reasons for many of his actions. Blinders had been pulled away from her eyes.

  Not so with Parker. He seemed like the most upfront, straightforward guy she’d ever met. And she’d just begun to trust her gut instincts, certain she’d finally developed that true cop second sense. Hah. Look where believing that had gotten her. According to Sam, the entire town knew she and Parker had a thing. Hearing that made her feel ill.

  But what if Yolanda had been mistaken? While Rayna had to admit that was unlikely, she considered the possibility that someone had used Parker’s picture. After all, neither Yolanda nor any of her friends had claimed to have met Parker in person.

  So all they had was a couple of social media accounts with Parker’s photograph on them. And some text messages sent from a prepaid cell phone that appeared to be a burner. In short, no proof that Parker was guilty.

  Sam called, clearly irate and furious that idle gossip had gotten Parker kicked out of Getaway’s only motel. “He’s refusing to leave,” Sam added. “I have a feeling David McMartin might be calling you to ask for law enforcement assistance in forcibly evicting him.”

  “There are no grounds,” she said, even though she knew Sam would already be aware. “As long as he’s paying his bill on time and hasn’t been engaging in any criminal activity, McMartin can’t—”

  “I know that, you know that, but I doubt McMartin does. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to get on the horn to some of his cronies and try to handle this themselves. They’re camped outside in the motel parking lot.”

  Which could become dangerously ugly, to say the least. She understood exactly how Parker must feel. After all, she’d been there herself. People had rushed to judgment and proclaimed him guilty without all the facts. Truthfully, now that she’d gotten over her earlier shocked anger, she realized she might have been a bit hasty in that area herself.

  “I’ll swing by and check out the situation in a few,” she told Sam. “I need to talk to Parker again anyway.”

  “Good,” Sam replied, ending the call. Since she didn’t get a sense of urgency, she resumed combing through the information Parker’s cell carrier had sent.

  Once she looked over Parker’s phone records, she began to realize she probably owed him an apology. Even more so as phone calls began to pour into the office, all from irate citizens demanding that she arrest him.

  The rush to judgment without facts made her see more clearly how her own actions must have affected him.

  Sam called again, less than an hour later, explaining that Parker was now receiving death threats. “They’re still gathering in the parking lot and the group is growing larger as we speak. I don’t like this at all.”

 
Neither did she. “Where is Parker now?” Rayna asked, a headache beginning to throb behind her eyes.

  “Still in his room. I think he’s probably afraid to leave because he knows McMartin will deactivate his key card. Hell, he’s probably already done that. Otherwise, I think Parker would have packed up his things and took off on his motorcycle.”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” Rayna answered, certain. “Because if he did that, it would make him look guilty.”

  “You need to take steps to protect him.” For the first time since she’d taken over as sheriff, Sam made a demand. “I’m really worried this situation is going to erupt in violence. Tensions are really boiling over.”

  “How do you know?” she asked, genuinely perplexed. “Haven’t you been hanging out at the motel? Did you go out and talk to them? Or did you go into town?”

  “I’m still here, trying to keep an eye on things. Not only did I go out and talk to Ted Sanders and his friends, but people have been calling me,” he told her. “All damn afternoon.”

  “Calling you?” she asked, stung. “Why you instead of me? You’re retired.”

  “I think they know that. They haven’t called you because they know you and Parker have a thing going on.”

  “A thing?” Though she knew what he meant, her shock and outrage left her unable to say more.

  “Semantics.” Impatience deepened his voice. “Looks like that group of irate fathers gathering in the Landshark parking lot is doubling in size. Maybe tripling. I have a feeling if Parker comes out of his room, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  “Seriously?” Heart racing, she realized once again, the speed gossip spread—like wildfire—managed to catch her off guard. “How many people?”

  “I don’t know. Several pickup trucks. And it’s growing by the minute. It’s time to put on your law-enforcement-officer hat,” Sam barked. “You owe Parker some protection. Send Larry or someone, but get him out of here before trouble starts. Even if he refuses to leave.”

  Before she could respond, Sam hung up.

  Stunned, she got up and went to get Larry. Halfway to his desk, she made the decision to deal with this herself, and have Larry stand by as backup. Her first task would be to disband the vigilantes in the parking lot. Her second, pay Parker a visit and have a face-to-face conversation. Even if Parker didn’t want to talk to her, especially if Parker didn’t want to talk to her. Because Sam was right. She owed Parker more than just protection. She owed him an apology. The more she considered the situation, the less likely it seemed he’d done anything wrong. Someone had probably used his photograph, easily obtained off the internet.