Son of Texas (Count on a Cop) Page 19

  JOSIE RAN A HOT BATH and sprinkled some of Lencha’s special mixture in the water. Lavender drifted to her nostrils. Soothing, comforting lavender—that’s what she needed. She sank into the water and tried to keep her mind a blank, but she couldn’t do it. Too much had happened. Too many bad things. And all to her.

  Unable to think about Boone, she tried to concentrate on something positive—her memory of Eric. Long ago, when she’d finally agreed to come to Beckett to visit, in hopes that Boone would stop his quest to have her father’s body moved, she never planned to join the police department. Then she’d met Eric. Tall, blond and handsome, he reminded her a lot of her father. They hit it off from the start and before she knew it she was joining the force. Soon they were spending a lot of time together, on and off duty.

  She’d had a serious relationship in college and dated a couple of cops in Corpus, but none of them made her think of weddings and babies. Eric did. After losing her parents, she wanted to be part of a family, have children. She could see them all with Eric’s blue eyes. When he’d asked her to marry him, she’d happily agreed. Eric wanted to get married right away, but she couldn’t until she resolved the situation with her grandfather. And you might say things were still the same. What did Boone have to do with Tracy? Until this situation was resolved, she couldn’t even think about a future.

  She stood, reached for a towel and stepped out. She’d loved Eric, but now when she thought of children, she saw them with big brown eyes. Caleb’s eyes. Could she be in love with two men at the same time?

  The door opened.

  “Lencha!”

  “What?” Lencha calmly closed the door behind her, unmoved by Josie’s indignation. “I’ve seen you naked before. No big deal. We have the same equipment.”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “A little privacy would be nice.”

  “Then lock the door.”

  “The lock’s broken.”

  “Oh. Right. I should fix that, but with just me here never saw the need.” Lencha waved a bony hand. “Never mind. I need to put this cream on your back. We missed last night and we have to do it as soon as possible and while your skin is still warm.”

  Josie grabbed her robe and slipped into it. “Let’s do it in the bedroom. There’s more room.”

  “Fine, but hurry before your skin cools off.”

  Lencha was just looking out for her so Josie couldn’t be angry. As she walked into her bedroom, she didn’t hear voices. The men must have left, but she would be there at three to talk to Mae and Boone. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing her grandfather again.

  She stretched out on her stomach on the bed, letting the robe fall to her waist. Gathering her hair, she looped it over her shoulder. She hadn’t thought much about her back lately. In the hospital she’d looked at it several times a day. The welts were raw and sore and they burned, some of them even bled. Sometimes she wondered how she survived the beatings. She shivered from the memory.

  “Are you cold?” Lencha asked, kneeling on the floor.

  “No. I was just remembering something painful.”

  “Mmm.” Lencha’s long fingers began to rub the cream into each scar, into each marred swath of flesh left by the rope and the board used by the cult leader. Lencha hummed while she worked and Josie relaxed. Her body went limp.

  AFTER SEEING DENNIS and Eric off, Caleb hurried back into the house. He had to make sure Josie was okay after what she’d been through again, this morning. He stopped short in her doorway. Lencha was rubbing cream onto Josie’s back again. As he stepped away, Lencha saw him.

  “Ranger.”

  “I…I’ll be in the kitchen.” He’d never seen her back this close before. He’d seen the scars briefly the other night and when he’d danced with her sometimes he could feel them through her dress. When they were stranded after the wreck, he’d touched them, but now he could see them clearly. Some of the marks were wide and deep and he felt a little sick to his stomach at what had been done to her.

  “Don’t go.” He heard Josie’s voice and he stilled. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Now let that soak in good.” Lencha pulled Josie’s robe over her back. “If I could have gotten to these scars right away, I’d have had a better chance of making them disappear. Now there’s a lot of scar tissue, but we’ll keep working at it. In a month they won’t be quite as bad.”

  “Thank you, Lencha.” Josie rolled onto her back and scooted against the headboard, tying the belt of her robe tightly.

  Lencha screwed the lid on the cream and pushed to her feet. “Better see what Chula’s into.”

  Caleb sat on the bed, his back against a post, his eyes on her. God, she was beautiful. Her long dark hair and smooth olive skin seemed more dominant against the white robe. Eye-catching. Riveting. They were just words and could never describe her innate beauty. A beauty that he would remember the rest of his life.

  “I didn’t mean to just burst in.” He tried to explain. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  She drew her knees up and pulled the robe down over them. “You never make me feel uncomfortable.”

  “But I know you’re sensitive about the scars.”

  She rested her chin on her knees. “It seems like a lifetime ago when I went through that. Other times, it seems like yesterday.”

  For a moment her mind went back to the cult who’d found her on a street in Austin. They cleaned and doctored the wound on her head and she’d thought they would help her. They soon disillusioned her of that, calling her names that she’d never heard before. She was sure she wasn’t as bad as they’d told her and in the days that followed she knew she was in a part of hell—a hell that she’d never heard about. They called their leader the prophet and he had six wives. He was looking for wife number seven and as she’d worked the fields and cooked, she’d noticed several young blond girls brought in for the purpose. When the girls wouldn’t submit to the brainwashing, they’d kill them and burn their bodies. Josie had watched all this, cowering in a corner in a makeshift kitchen. She might not have known who she was, but she knew these people were evil.

  Suddenly she knew, besides the obvious, why the fire frightened her so much. Her mind held the memory of Tracy and the fire. She trembled visibly.

  “What is it?” Caleb asked immediately.

  “I was remembering how the cult burned those girls’ bodies in the fire.”

  “Don’t, Josie,” he pleaded, his voice soft and soothing.

  “In my blank mind the fire frightened me for more than that reason. Tracy died the same way. I must have known that.”

  “Probably.”

  There was silence for a moment. Then she raised her eyes to his. “I have my memory back. Everything—even Eric. I wasn’t sure I could trust him, but now I know that I can.”

  “That’s good. Don’t think about the bad stuff.”

  “But I’m still in limbo. I thought once my memory returned I would know who shot me. But I don’t. It’s turned into an even bigger puzzle than before. The shooter is still out there.”

  “Yeah.” He studied the tip of his cowboy boots. “Please don’t scare me again like you did this morning.”

  “I scared myself. Dr. Oliver said I might have recall through dreams and she was right. When I woke up, I was standing in front of the ashes and I didn’t have a clue where I was. Then in a blinding pain it all came back.”

  He leaned forward. “Do you want to talk about that day?”

  “Yes.”

  “Try to remember as much as you can. Did you notice another car parked somewhere?”

  She shook her head. “I just remember the flames and running to the window. That’s when I saw her.”

  “How was she lying?”

  “On her back. Her head was tilted to the side toward me and I could see her face clearly. She had blond hair.”

  “What else? Clothes? Did you notice her clothes?”

  “Oh.” Josie clasped her cheeks. “There was a blanket
or something over her body and it was…was bloody. Yes. It was bloody.”

  He frowned. “Was the blood on Tracy? Or on the blanket?”

  She closed her eyes. “The blanket was yellow, yes, a dirty yellow and it was soaked with blood.”

  “Was it blood or maybe just dirty?”

  “It was blood, kind of a shiny maroon. It wasn’t dirt.”

  “Was it near Tracy’s face and neck?”

  “No. In the center of the blanket.”

  “Anything else?”

  She opened her eyes. “Her hair.”

  “What about her hair?”

  “It was pushed back from her forehead and it looked wet.”

  Josie buried her face in her hands. “She looked so thrown away in that ratty deer cabin—thrown away like garbage. I can’t believe my grandfather had anything to do with her murder. I just can’t let myself believe that.” She ran the palms of her hands over her face. “Because if I do that, I’d have to believe that he shot me or had someone else shoot me.”

  “Don’t put yourself through this,” he advised. “Wait until we have something more concrete.”

  She looked at him. “What kind of dealings could Boone have with Tracy?”

  Caleb shrugged. “We could speculate all day, but only Boone can answer that.”

  “If he’s in a mood to be cooperative.”

  “Yeah. It’ll be like opening a bottle of aged wine. You have to do it very carefully and there’s always a surprise in store. With the wine, it’s usually delightful. With Boone, we’ll have to wait and see.”

  Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “You always make me feel so good.”

  He stroked her hair, willing himself not to let this get out of control. “You are happy about remembering Eric, aren’t you?”

  She drew back, her dark eyes as warm as any fire. “Yes, but I’m still struggling to connect the past with the present. ‘Integrate’ is what Dr. Oliver called it.”

  “It will happen. We just have to find the missing piece to this puzzle.”

  “I’m just so afraid we’ll never find it and I’ll never know and my life will be in limbo forever.”

  “Remember a ranger never stops investigating until the bad guys are caught.”

  She flashed a smile. “You’re wonderful, Caleb McCain, and I don’t know how I’m going to live without you.” Her expression changed to one of sadness. “I’m trying to let go. I really am, but I may need to drink a warm glass of milk before bed for the rest of my life.”

  “Josie.” He stood, putting distance between them because he knew her emotions were fragile and he couldn’t take advantage of that.

  “I’m being honest.” Her eyes begged him to understand.

  “I know.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “We both know once this mess is sorted out your emotions will change. You and Eric will recapture what you once had.”

  “Yes.” She leaned back against the bed. “Eric is very nice. I liked that about him from the start. Maybe that’s why I felt such a connection to you. You and Eric have a lot of qualities in common.”

  “Maybe.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, the truth like a wedge of ice in his chest. They both knew her dependency on him was ebbing. “I’m going to the police station for a while. I’ll be back about two-thirty if you still insist on going.”

  “I do.”

  “Lencha is here with a shotgun. Wilbur Nash, an officer, is outside. Please don’t let Lencha shoot Wilbur or anyone else.”

  “Did you try to take the gun from her?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  At her bubble of laughter, he walked out. He had to find the shooter and soon. His heart couldn’t take much more.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE MORNING PASSED quickly for Caleb. Mae was eager for news of her daughter and gladly agreed to a meeting. FBI agent Wesley Hawkins arrived at noon and they traveled out to the suspected crime scene. They didn’t touch anything, leaving all the evidence intact for the forensic team. But Caleb did notice that the track also lead to the back of the cabin. A car could have easily been parked there and Josie would never have seen it.

  When they reached the office, Eric had more information. The land and cabin belonged to Boone, as they all suspected. Wes gave Boone a call asking him politely to come in for questioning. From Wes’s expression, Caleb knew he was receiving an earful. But the agent didn’t back down, telling Boone if he didn’t show, a team of law enforcement officers would drag him in.

  Eric also had information on Mae and Tracy Williams. Tracy started running away from home after her father was killed in an accident at work. Everything from drug possession to stealing to shoplifting and blackmail was on her rap sheet. Tracy’s goal in life seemed to be to get as much money as fast as she could, any way she could. She lived with a guy named Tad Hoffman and his rap sheet was longer than Tracy’s. Eric was still trying to locate him.

  They’d run a check on Mae, a single mom working two jobs and struggling to raise three daughters. She was clean and all the information she’d given Josie checked out, too. Mae arrived early and Caleb left to pick up Josie, knowing she wasn’t going to change her mind.

  Josie took the oath in Dennis’s office and she was officially back on the Beckett police force. Caleb took her to the room where Mae was waiting and let her handle the questioning, but he was listening carefully to every answer.

  Josie stared at the woman in the room. In her forties, Mae was medium height, a little overweight with graying blond hair and a worried expression. She looked just like Josie thought she would.

  “I’m Josie Marie Beckett,” she introduced herself.

  “Oh, my.” Tears filled Mae’s eyes. “You’re alive. The nice ranger said you were, but for the last year I’ve worried and worried until I couldn’t worry anymore. I just didn’t know what had happened to you.”

  Josie pulled out a chair and sat across from her. She told her about the day she’d found Tracy and what had happened afterward.

  “Oh my God!” It took Mae a moment for everything to sink in. She swallowed visibly. “So…so my daughter is dead?”

  “I believe so. The FBI will confirm it in a few days after the forensic team gathers the evidence. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  Tears rolled down Mae’s cheeks and she reached into her purse for a tissue. Dabbing at her eyes, she said, “I knew something bad had happened when neither one of you called me back. I finally called Frank and he said I needed to file a missing person’s report in Beckett, but I explained I was afraid Tracy was somehow trying to extort money from Boone Beckett. I have two young daughters at home and if I filed a report in Beckett, I feared for their lives. Frank also knew of Boone’s reputation and if Tracy had something on him then he might think that I was also in it with her. For my daughters, I couldn’t take that risk. But I couldn’t just do nothing so I had Frank file a missing person’s report in Corpus, hoping that something would come of it. But as days turned into months I knew my daughter was likely lost to me forever.”

  Mae dabbed at her eyes again and Josie gave her a minute. “Can you remember some of the things Tracy told you about the person she was meeting?”

  “She was very excited and said she wasn’t going to have to ask me for money again. All she had to do was name her price and it would be paid. She said that the person she was meeting was a little crazy, but one way or another she was getting her money. I tried to talk her out of it and begged her to come home. I begged until I was blue in the face, but she only laughed and said not when her gravy train was about to come in.”

  “You mentioned price. Do you have any idea what she’d meant?”

  “No. Tracy hung out with a bad crowd. I cringe to think about what they were into.”

  Josie pushed a pen and pad across the table. “Would you write their names down, please?”

  “Sure, but they’re probably in jail or strung out somewhere.” Mae took the paper an
d began to scribble names.

  Josie crossed her hands on the table and braced herself for the answer to the next question. “Mae, did Tracy ever mention Boone by name?”

  Mae looked up. “No. She said she couldn’t let anything slip or the deal would be off and she wanted that money.” Mae reached for her tissue again. “This is so different than the life my husband and I had planned for her. When Lloyd died, Tracy became someone I couldn’t control.” Mae hiccupped. “Your father was so nice and I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”

  Josie got up and hugged her, realizing how difficult this woman’s life had been since her husband’s death. She held no animosity toward Mae. “I’m fine now,” she assured her. “We’re just trying to find the person who did this.”

  “I hope you do, and soon.”

  “Thank you,” Josie replied. “Would you please keep your cell phone with you at all times in case I need to ask you something?”

  “Sure. And you’ll let me know if my daughter is really…dead.”

  “Yes, of course. You’ll be the first person I call. Again, Mrs. Williams, I’m very sorry.”

  As Mae left, Josie stared at Caleb. “What do you think?”

  He was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded. He unfolded his arms and walked toward her. “I think Tracy was selling something.”

  “Me, too. But what?”

  “She was into stealing so she might have come across something that she shouldn’t have and she saw a way to make some money.”

  “Yeah, but—” Loud voices interrupted her and they shared a secret glance. “Boone has arrived.”

  Dennis stuck his head in. “Josie, you better come out here.”

  Josie and Caleb stopped short in the squad room. Lencha held her shotgun on Boone.

  “I’m gonna blow you away like I should have done thirty years ago,” Lencha hissed between clenched teeth. “You’re a coward, Boone Beckett. A bigot coward. You hurt my Marie, but you’re not hurting Josie, you yellow-livered snake in the grass.”