Daughter of Texas (4 page)

The corners of his mouth tightened slightly. “Greg asked me to look after you if anything should happen to him.”

“Ah.” Understanding smacked her upside the head. So she was his obligation. How idiotic of her to have harbored any thought he was taking such a personal interest for other reasons.

She was glad he'd put up the barrier between them. She'd let him protect her, while she protected her heart.

Quickly, she gathered her necessary belongings into a couple of tote bags, the only thing she'd need to get was a toothbrush since she left hers out in the barn, and followed Ben out of the house to his Jeep.

“Oh, wait!” she said when she saw Gabby on the porch. Scooping up the feline, she turned to Gisella. “Is it okay if Gabby comes to your house as well?”

Gisella grimaced. “I'm sorry. I'm allergic to cats.”

“Then my staying with you won't work.” Corinna bit her lip. She could stay at the Miriam shelter she volunteered at, but as soon as the thought formed she rejected it. She wouldn't take a bed away from someone in need. “I could ask Susan or Felicia if I could stay with them.”

“I don't think putting your friends in danger is a good idea,” Ben said.

He was right, of course. She had no family left, no one to turn to. She was alone. The need to move, to dance, washed through her like a rogue wave. Only when she was dancing did she feel whole and in control. Agitation revved through her veins, her foot began to bounce. “I can stay at the dance studio. There's a couch in the locker room and I'm sure Madame wouldn't mind if Gabby's there.”

Ben frowned. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Then a pet-friendly hotel will have to do.”

“I'd rather you stayed with Gisella. I'll take the cat.”

Surprised, Corinna stared at him. “Really?”

“Yes. I'll take care of…”

“Gabby.”

“Right. Gabby. I can have pets in my apartment.”

She didn't even know where he lived, let alone why he'd offer, but she'd take it. “Thank you. Her food, dish and litter box are in the laundry room.”

Relief softened Ben's jaw. “That's settled then. After we go to the station house, I'll take you to Gisella's.”

Corinna glanced at the female Ranger. “You're kind to offer. Are you sure I wouldn't be putting you out?”

Gisella smiled. “Not at all. I'm between roommates at the moment. The second bedroom is furnished and unoccupied.”

“It's a good plan,” Ben said, taking one of Corinna's hands and squeezing. “Stay with Gisella. You'll be safe there.”

Safe.

His hazel eyes implored her to accept the offer. Part of her wanted to rebel, wanted to say no, she was strong enough, brave enough to stay here regardless of the danger. She didn't need their help. But she really wasn't foolish, either. She nodded.

After gathering her cat's belongings and stowing them away in the back of the Jeep, Ben drove them to the San Antonio Police station.

This early in the morning, with the first streaks of sunrise appearing on the horizon, the green glass and yellow-sided police department building was lit up from
within. Crime didn't sleep and neither did the night shift officers.

After identifying himself, Ben explained the situation to the navy-and-gold-uniformed desk sergeant. They were led to a vacant desk in the belly of the bustling department.

“Have a seat,” the sergeant said. “I'll bring you the books for the past five years.”

“Perfect,” Ben said as he held out a chair for Corinna.

She took a seat on the padded task chair while Ben grabbed a nearby metal folding chair, turned it around, and straddled the seat, looking directly at her. His gaze searched her face. The way he studied her was a bit unnerving. He'd been staring ever since they'd left her home.

If her dad hadn't been killed, she'd have been amused by Ben's overbearing way of ordering her to Gisella's. She usually didn't take to such high-handed behavior. But her father had been murdered and the recent break-in freaked her out.

The shot she'd fired off still had her ears ringing, and truth be told she was scared and feeling vulnerable. The intruder could have returned to kill her instead of searching for something. Ben had said the Rangers didn't know what the guy had been seeking. Neither did she.

“Here we go,” the sergeant said, depositing a stack of five photo albums on the metal desktop in front of Corinna.

Each album was three inches thick. She flipped open the cover of the top one. The page was filled with small,
square photos. There were hundreds of pictures to go through. It would be like looking for a viper in a pit full of every kind of snake imaginable. Her face must have betrayed her dismay at the enormity of the task facing her.

“I know this seems daunting, but take your time. Scan the photos. If anyone looks remotely familiar let me know,” Ben said.

She nodded and settled herself to the task. An hour and five books later, she finally shook her head. “I don't know, Ben. He could be any number of these guys.”

Disappointment seeped into her tone, but she couldn't help it. She'd so wanted to find the person responsible for her father's death. She wished she could simply point a finger to a photo and, presto, have their killer.

Ben put his hand on her arm. “Don't beat yourself up about this. You're tired. Maybe we can have you work with a sketch artist. Paige is great at coaxing details from people's subconscious. I'll have her drive over from Austin.”

“I'll try anything,” Corinna said, willing to do whatever it took to find her father's killer.

Ben rose. “Tomorrow after you've had some rest.” He held out his hand. “Let's get you to Gisella's.”

She slipped her hand into his engulfing grip and allowed him to help her to her feet. His fingers locked firmly around hers. Their palms meshed together, sending waves of sensation up her arm to settle in the vicinity of her heart. There was no denying her attraction to Ben.

Old hurt and anger tightened her breathing. She still remembered the day he'd walked into her life thirteen
years ago. He'd been a lanky, somewhat surly nineteen-year-old who'd embodied all her teenage dreams. Until she'd realized he wasn't leaving. Then she'd come to resent him for invading her family. For taking her father's attention away. For being the son she couldn't be.

She jerked her hand free, ignoring his confused expression as she preceded him out of the police station into the still-dark and temperate morning air.

Attraction couldn't counteract all the years of resentment piled up in her heart like old moldy blankets, smothering in its intensity and weighing down any wayward, unwanted yearnings.

In the grand scheme of her life, giving in to her attraction to Ben would only bring her more pain.

She had to remember that.

C
orinna arrived at the San Antonio Dance Company's building and parked near the door. Thankfully, this early in the day no one was about. She'd quietly left Gisella's house before the Ranger had awoken.

Keeping an alert eye for any possible danger and her cell phone ready, she'd walked several blocks before calling a taxi to take her to her house so she could get her car. The thought of being cooped up, basically like a prisoner, in the Ranger's house had provoked the streak of rebellion that Corinna worked hard to keep at bay.

Her father always lamented her rebellious nature would one day get her in trouble. Ha! She'd lived her whole life doing what others wanted her to do. And she wasn't stupid. Her father had made sure she knew how to handle herself.

Since she tended to rehearse at odd hours when others weren't in the building, she had a key to the side door. In the stillness of the early morning, she entered. The place was muggy from being locked up tight. She decided not to open any windows. Inside the studio room, she fired up the stereo system and did a quick warm-up before pushing play. Tchaikovsky's pas de deux sprang from
the speakers to surround her. The notes so familiar, so cherished.

But her scattered thoughts wouldn't let her relish the music. Her father was dead. Gone forever.

A sob lay trapped in her throat.

Ben's words slammed into her mind.
You can count on all of the Rangers. We are your family now.

She didn't want that. She'd lived too long in that world to stay there willingly. But where did she belong?

Here. She belonged here in this studio, doing the only thing she knew how to do.

Shutting down her mind and ignoring the bite of pain in her biceps, she allowed her body to flow to the music. Dancing had become her refuge during her youth. Today it was so much more. Losing herself to the movement, the music, insulated her from the outside world. Inside the bubble of dance, she was safe. There was no sorrow, there was no pain. Only the dance.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrored wall. Who was that wild-eyed, pale ghost of a woman?

Tears blurred her vision. She squeezed her eyes tight. And pirouetted her way to oblivion.

 

A little before eight in the morning, Ben arrived at the Rangers' offices with a heavy heart. The flat-roofed, sprawling building looked unusually drab this morning, as if reflecting the grief tightening Ben's chest. He pulled into his usual spot next to Gisella's truck. All of the Rangers' vehicles were in their spots. All but one. Greg's wasn't there and never would be again.

As soon as Ben got out of his Jeep, a reporter descended.

“Can you confirm the identity of the fallen Ranger as Captain Gregory Pike?” the red-haired female reporter asked as she shoved a microphone into Ben's face.

Her eager-to-get-the-story expression drove a stake through Ben's heart. His blood pressure skyrocketed. The media had no soul, no understanding of human compassion, only a hunger to get the story no matter what the cost.

“No comment.” He pushed past the cameraman angling to capture him on film.

Thankful to leave the reporter and her sidekick outside, Ben swiped his access card and entered the relatively quiet building. He took a moment to compose himself before making his way to his office. After checking his messages, he went in search of Marissa Franklin, the administrative assistant. He found her sitting at her desk staring out the window.

“Marissa,” he said as he entered her workspace.

She wiped at her eyes before turning toward him. As always, she was dressed impeccably in a starched blouse and skirt. Her short, bobbed hair matched the warm brown color of her eyes. “How can I help you?”

Ben appreciated her professionalism though he knew she had to be hurting just as badly as the rest of them. Marissa had worked closely with Greg for the past few years. Respecting her need to keep emotions in check, he said, “I need the key to Greg's office.”

Without blinking an eye at the request, she opened a drawer and withdrew a key ring. “Here you go. Senior
Captain Parker is waiting in the conference room for you.”

Not surprised to learn the senior captain was already here, Ben wished he had something concrete to report.

“Thank you.” He turned to go, then paused. “Marissa, do you have any idea what case came up recently that Greg was working on?”

She shook her head. “I don't. But I can check the logs to see if anything came in that I'm unaware of.”

“That would be helpful.” Instead of heading directly to the conference room, Ben returned to his office where he called the Texas Department of Public Safety Crime Laboratory Service operating out of San Antonio.

“Talk to me, James,” Ben said to the head technician when he got him on the phone.

“Hey, Ben. Sorry about Greg. He'll be missed.”

A swell of sorrow rushed in. Ben gripped the receiver tighter. “Yes. What do we know so far?”

“The coroner is just starting his exam. I won't have the bullet for a few hours. I can tell you that the prints taken off the unknown vic don't show up in IAFIS.”

Ben's jaw tightened painfully. The Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System used primarily by law enforcement agencies across the country was the largest biometric database in the world. Most people's fingerprints and corresponding information such as address and criminal record were entered into the system whether they realized it or not. Seemed this guy had somehow managed to avoid being fingerprinted. “What about DNA?”

“We've sent samples to the FBI's CODIS—the
Combined DNA Index System—and we're running them here in our lab. We won't have results for at least seven to ten days.”

Time was not on their side. Every minute that went by meant the criminal who'd shot Greg was on the loose and possibly getting away.

“But unless we find something to compare the data to, it's useless,” James stated.

Taking a deep breath to stem the tide of frustration, Ben asked, “Anything else?”

“I sent photos of the vic to our Austin office. They have the most up-to-date facial recognition software available and are hooked into the National Crime Information Center database. Plus, Paige Bryant knows that system better than anyone else I've ever met. If the guy's image is in the cyber world, Paige will find it.”

“Let's hope,” Ben said. He'd only met the forensic artist a few times and had liked her calm demeanor. He reminded himself to have her drive down to work with Corinna.

“We found particulates on the unknown vic. Some grass and pollen fibers. We're working on identifying them. We also found traces of clay loam on the floor after both incidents, which is indigenous to the area around the Pikes' place.”

“We're pretty sure the perp came in through the patio doors and left the same way both times.”

“Makes sense. But anyone or anything could have tracked in the loam. We also found cat hairs on Greg.”

“His daughter, Corinna, has a cat.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “That's all I have for now.”

“Keep me updated.” As soon as he hung up, Ben
dialed Paige's number. He explained what he needed. She agreed to drive down straight away. With his calls done, Ben ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, the ends bristling against his palm. Best to face the inevitable. He headed toward the large conference room where the Rangers convened to discuss active investigations.

All the Rangers were seated at the huge oval table. A sea of white hats, grim expressions and suppressed emotions awaited him. They were all grieving their captain's demise and anxious to catch the villain. Trevor slipped in behind Ben and took a seat. Ben stood and braced his hands on the back of an empty leather chair.

At the head of the table stood Texas Ranger Senior Captain Doug Parker, dressed in tan slacks, a navy sport coat over a white button-down and a white hat. In his late sixties, Parker made an imposing figure at six-one with a bony frame that barely contained the energy emanating from him.

The lines in his craggy face were as harsh as his sharp green eyes as he assessed the nine men and one woman in front of him from beneath the brim of his hat. He smoothed a finger over his handlebar mustache. “It's a sad, sad day,” he said.

Nods of agreement went around the room.

“But we carry on. The Rangers have always carried on,” Parker said in a solemn tone. “There's work to be done. First I need to appoint a new captain to Company D.”

The sound of the Rangers shifting in their seats filled Ben's ears. He kept his gaze trained on Parker, though he could feel the speculative glances shooting his way.

Ben cleared his throat. “We need to find our captain's murderer before any decisions are made.”

Parker's eyes narrowed. “Without a leader the team will falter.”

“I agree,” Trevor interjected, his voice vibrating with anticipation. He stood. “As the senior lieutenant, I'm more than willing to step into the captain's role.”

Parker never shifted his gaze from Ben. “Duly noted, Donovan. However, Lieutenant Fritz will be promoted to Captain of Company D.”

The senior's words hit Ben like a fist to the solar plexus. He and Greg had talked about the day when Ben would be promoted, but it was always in the context of when Greg retired.

“What? How can you do this?” sputtered Trevor.

Parker pinned Trevor with his glittering eyes. “If you have a problem with the situation, we can discuss it in private.” Turning his sharp gaze back to Ben, he said, “So, Fritz, do you accept the position?”

Ben's heart pounded. He wanted the promotion, but not like this. Greg should be the one handing off the leadership baton. But Greg was gone and Ben needed to face that fact. His gut crunched.

He glanced around the table, appreciating the encouraging looks of the Rangers of Company D. Slowly, he nodded, accepting the responsibility out of respect for his fallen captain.

Parker nodded with satisfaction. “Good.” His expression turned grim. “Then I'll leave you to find Pike's murderer. Anything you need, Ben, don't hesitate to ask. You have all of the resources of the State of Texas
at your disposal.” Parker touched the brim of his hat and headed for the door.

Ben hurried to catch up with him in the hall. “Captain Parker, I'd like to request to promote Daniel Riley to the rank of lieutenant.”

Parker stopped and placed a hand on Ben's shoulder. “I think that's a fine idea. Fill out the necessary forms.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Sadness crept into the older man's eyes. “I'm sorry about Greg. I know you two were close.”

“We were, sir.” As close as father and son. Only their bond went deeper. Ben had trusted Greg with his life. And vice versa. If only Ben had arrived twenty minutes earlier….

Parker squeezed Ben's shoulder. “I have every confidence you'll bring the murderer to justice. And until the fiend is apprehended, you are charged with keeping Corinna Pike safe.”

“I will,” Ben assured him with rock solid determination strengthening his tone. “Believe me, I will.”

Trevor stepped out into the hall. “Captain Parker, may I have a word?”

Parker removed his hand from Ben's shoulder, sighed and then nodded to the other Ranger. “Walk with me, Donovan.”

Shooting Ben a withering glare, Trevor edged past him and walked away with Captain Parker.

Ben reentered the conference room and accepted his comrades' well wishes with bittersweet emotion. He held up a hand and waited until they quieted down. “Where
are we in the investigation? I want this guy caught before he comes after Corinna since she can ID him.”

“Still waiting on forensics to identify more trace elements found at the scene after the break-in,” Oliver said.

“We should have the ME's report by noon,” Gisella said.

“The neighbors didn't see or hear a thing,” Levi said.

“We found several sets of tire tracks at the back gate. Hard to say if they were fresh or not. Took impressions and gave them to forensics. Still waiting.”

“Hurry them along.” Ben turned his gaze to Daniel and Marvel. “And the man found shot with Greg?”

“Coma guy? No change,” Marvel replied. “SAPD sent over two officers. They'll report in if there's any development.”

Disappointment lodged a boulder in his chest. “So basically, we have squat.”

An uncomfortable silence fell across the room.

“Come on, people. No one can be that good. Our killer had to mess up somehow. We just have to find his mistake.” Ben prayed his words were true. Turning to Anderson, he asked, “What does the SAPD officer from last night have to say?”

“Not much. Guy came up from behind him and hit him over the head with a rock from the garden,” Anderson replied.

“Prints?”

Anderson shook his head. “Guy wore gloves.”

“Figures,” Ben said. He shifted his gaze to another Ranger seated at the table. “Oliver, when Paige arrives,
see if the facial recognition software has come up with an ID for coma guy.”

“Will do, Captain.” Oliver grinned. “I sure like the sound of that.”

Ben wished he could fully embrace his new title, but his grief was too fresh. He'd give anything to have Greg back. “Thanks.”

His gaze swept over the remaining Rangers. “Beat the bushes. Find something useful. Cade, check with the DA. See if any of Greg's old cases send up any red flags. We have to work this from every angle. The guy's still out there and Corinna could be his next target.”

“On it, boss,” Cade said as he slipped his cell phone out of his sport-coat pocket. He rose and left the conference room.

Ben headed for Greg's office. He unlocked the door and flipped on the overhead light. A long filing cabinet ran the length of the room beneath the large rectangular window overlooking the back parking lot. The mahogany desk facing the door was neat, just the way Greg liked it, with files piled on the corner edge, pens in their holder and a computer waiting to be booted up.