A Texas Family Page 8

  She wiped away the last of the tears. “I’ll have to grow a thicker skin.”

  There was silence for a moment, and then he asked, “The reason you came back now is because of the partial hysterectomy?”

  She looked down at her locked hands. “That child is the only one I will ever have. As the years passed, my need to see its face grew stronger. I thought if I could look upon my child, know that he or she is in a good place, I could move on. But now I have to brace myself to face the fact my baby probably died within minutes of its birth.” She drew a sharp breath to stem the pain the words caused.

  He reached out and touched her arm, a soothing sensation that gave her strength. “There’s something you should know about me. I never give up.”

  She stared into his confident green eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

  He glanced at his watch. “It’s early yet. Brett Evans, a Texas Ranger, helped with the investigation. I spoke to him several times after I returned home. He’s very thorough, and his memory is uncanny. If you’re up to it, we could drive to Buda to visit with him. He interviewed Roland and Curly, and I’m curious as to what they said.”

  Something in his tone irritated her. “Do I appear weak to you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve asked several times if I’m okay and if I’m up to it. I assure you I am not fragile, and I will not fall apart. I’m a little shaken at times reliving the bad stuff, but you don’t have to treat me like I’m about to have a nervous breakdown.”

  “Okeydokey.” He ran his hand across the steering wheel. “You know, you have a tendency to pounce without warning.”

  A twinge of guilt pierced her chest. She wasn’t apologizing, though. “Well, then, stop making me mad.”

  “Okay, Ms. Brooks. What would you like to do now?”

  “Now you’re being condescending.”

  He turned toward her, his green eyes dark. “I’m not going to apologize for being concerned about your well-being. You’ve been through a traumatic ordeal and it’s not over. It could get worse. If my being considerate bothers you, then maybe it’s time for us to stop and you can call your lawyer.”

  They stared at each other, two adversaries, angry and determined. She was the first to look away from the fire in his eyes.

  “Okay. I’m being touchy.”

  “Again,” he mumbled under his breath.

  She gritted her teeth. “Yes. I’d like to talk to the ranger.”

  He reached for his phone. “I think I have his number on my cell.” He talked for a few minutes and clicked off. “He’s home and will see us if we can get there within the hour.” Without another word, he pulled back onto the road.

  After a few minutes, he asked, “Do you think you could stop taking everything I say the wrong way?”

  “I’ll try.”

  She didn’t know why she was being so testy. Maybe she was building a solid defense around her heart out of barbed-wire quips to keep her emotions in check. Carson was handsome and charming, and even though she’d been away from Willow Creek for nine years, she was still very naïve when it came to men. She had to stay muleheaded and stubborn and not fall for another Corbett.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE RIDE TO Buda was quiet and that was fine with Carson. Talking to Jena was like talking to a porcupine. She wasn’t letting anyone get too close, and if someone did, she was immediately on the defensive, inflicting pain. He supposed she had good reason. She was protecting herself. He understood that.

  But it was aggravating to have her pounce every time he said something she didn’t like. He wasn’t sure why he was involved with her in the first place. But then, saying no to Jena didn’t seem to be an option for him. If he could keep his kids from seeing their grandfather arrested and put in a home, he would stick this out. And he was doing it for Jared, too. Somehow he knew his brother would want him to help Jena. And that might prove to be his biggest challenge—helping her while protecting his father.

  The ride was scenic with a rolling lush landscape of farms and ranches. Brett lived on a small ranch outside the city limits. Once they turned off U.S. 290 onto a rural route the landscape was more rustic with thick woods and houses set miles apart.

  “I’ve met Ranger Evans,” she said.

  Her low sincere voice startled him, but he asked, “When?”

  “The day after Jared was killed.”

  “He interviewed you?”

  “Yes. He wanted to know when was the last time I saw Jared.”

  “When was that?”

  “I saw him about 4:00 p.m. He said he had to get home before his dad sent Roland out for him. We didn’t want Asa to get suspicious of what we had planned, so he was trying to follow orders.”

  “Where did you see him?”

  “At my house.”

  They were talking again, sharing information. He hated that he’d offended her, so he carefully chose his next words. “Was your father home?”

  “My father was rarely home and he wasn’t that day.”

  “Jared’s body was found a little after eight on an old country road. What made him go there?”

  She glanced at him. “That’s a question no one could answer.”

  “Did Ranger Evans talk to your mother?”

  “Yes. He asked all kinds of questions about my father, but we were as mystified and devastated by the shootings as everyone. Like you, Ranger Evans was looking for a motive, and the only one he and the sheriff could come up with was me. My father killed Jared because of me.”

  He heard the hurt in her voice and he almost didn’t say anything else. But they were looking for answers. “Was he satisfied with that motive?”

  “I don’t think so because he couldn’t find anyone who could say that my father threatened to kill Jared.”

  “You never spoke to the ranger again?”

  “No.”

  “After your baby was taken, did you ever think of calling him?”

  Looking down at the hands clasped in her lap, she admitted, “Honestly, no. I was scared, grieving and almost afraid to breathe. And I knew no one would believe me, not even the ranger.”

  He wouldn’t have believed her, either, because he’d wanted to believe the worst of her. His brother was dead. And, like his father, he’d wanted her to pay. But now that he knew her, he found her to be an honest and open person. No one had been hurt more than her.

  He turned off the rural route road and crossed a cattle guard. They passed cattle feasting on grass as they sped toward a farm-style ranch house with a long veranda. He parked by a worn board fence and they got out. The wind blew her hair across her face, and he watched as she tucked it behind her ears.

  “Do you think we could stop butting heads for today?”

  “Maybe.” A slight smile touched her lips, and he was lost in a kaleidoscope of new emotions, ones he hadn’t felt in a long time. And he shouldn’t be feeling them now.

  “Come on in,” Brett shouted from the veranda.

  Two blue heelers charged out to greet them. After sniffing their feet, the dogs charged back to Brett. Carson opened the gate and they walked to the veranda. Large baskets of blooming flowers hung from the rafters.

  Brett shook their hands. He was a tall, lean man in worn jeans and boots. A thatch of gray hair crowned his head.

  “Ms. Brooks, it’s nice to see you again.”

  “Thank you.”

  Carson didn’t like the way Brett was looking at Jena—as though she was an attractive woman he couldn’t take his eyes off. But then, Carson probably looked at her the same way, which was a sobering thought.

  “Come, let’s go to my study.”

  They followed him into the house. It was open, warm and inviting with old hardwood floors and antiques. A woma
n appeared from the kitchen area.

  “This is my wife, Charlene.” Brett made the introductions.

  “Would y’all like some coffee?” Charlene asked.

  He looked at Jena and she shook her head. “No, thanks,” she replied.

  They followed Brett into a large study off the den. The room was the same as the rest of the house, except there was a wall of framed newspaper clippings and awards Brett had received as a Texas Ranger. Several antique guns were in glass cases.

  “Sit, please,” Brett said, easing into a leather chair behind his huge oak desk.

  A small sofa was the only place to sit, and he and Jena barely fitted on it. This was the closest he’d been to her. She wore a tempting fragrance. He’d had a hint of it in the car, but now it intrigued him. What was it? It wasn’t strawberry or lavender or lilac or vanilla. What was it?

  “You wanted to talk about the Willow Creek murders?” the ranger asked.

  Carson quickly shifted his wandering thoughts. “Yes.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I find it a little odd that you two are here together.”

  Carson didn’t blink under the ranger’s sharp eye. “Jena has some questions about her father’s death, and I have some about my brother’s. I thought you would be the best person to talk to, other than the sheriff.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “My father’s murder case was closed very quickly.” Jena joined the conversation. “Why?”

  Brett didn’t balk under the question, but Carson sensed he was nervous or uncomfortable.

  “Lack of evidence,” Brett replied. “To be quite honest no one else had a motive to kill Lamar Brooks but Asa Corbett. And there was no way Asa could have done it. Once Jared’s body was taken to the morgue, Asa never left it. No one was touching his son’s body without his permission. Roland and Curly were with him the whole time. At six that morning Asa was at the funeral home. Later, Asa gave us access to his gun cabinet, and we ran ballistics on his shotguns. Nothing matched.”

  This was the first time Carson had heard his dad was at the funeral home all night. In grief, he’d missed so many things. He hated to admit to himself, though, that Asa could have sent Roland or Curly to kill Lamar.

  Brett pushed his chair back to a large filing cabinet and pulled out a file. “I keep notes and papers from every case I investigate. The evidence and records from both cases are stored at the sheriff’s office.” He opened the file on his desk. “There were so many things about the two cases that didn’t add up.”

  “Then why were the cases closed?” Carson asked. “If Pa didn’t kill Lamar, that means someone else did.”

  “Mmm. I always hated the thought that someone got away with murder.”

  “Why didn’t you or the sheriff continue to investigate?”

  Brett leaned back in his chair. “After your brother was buried, Asa was in a full-blown rage. He wanted the sheriff and the Texas Rangers out of Willow Creek. Two weeks later we were told that if we didn’t have a viable suspect for Lamar Brooks’s murder, we were to close the case.”

  “By who?” Jena wanted to know.

  “An aide to the governor.”

  Carson blew out a breath. His father had that much power because Asa poured money into campaigns for politicians who were quick to do his bidding.

  “You said some things didn’t add up.” He focused on the ranger’s words. “What things?”

  Brett flipped through some papers in the file. “We had a timeline on Jared. He left Ms. Brooks’s house about 4:00 p.m. He then went to the convenience store and bought an ice-cream sandwich, a Coke and an orange-and-white baby T-shirt with Hook ’em Horns on it.”

  “Oh,” Jena gasped. “I didn’t know he’d done that. What happened to the T-shirt?”

  “I suppose it’s in the evidence box stored at the sheriff’s office.”

  She looked down at her hands, her hair falling across her face to hide her expression. Jared had bought the baby a gift and she was struggling to control all the emotions the gesture implied.

  Carson had to bite his tongue to keep from asking if she was okay. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” Brett asked, and Carson wondered how she would respond to the question from someone else.

  Jena’s head jerked up. “Yes. Thank you.”

  She glanced at him, and he lifted an eyebrow. He got the distinct impression she wanted to smack him but resisted.

  There was silence for a moment. Carson kept waiting for Brett to ask about the baby, and he wondered again what Jena would say. Would she keep her word and not incriminate his father?

  To keep Brett from dwelling on the baby, he asked, “Where did Jared go from the store?”

  Brett looked down at his notes. “Ella, who runs the convenience store, said Asa called Jared while he was checking out and Jared told his father he was on his way home. She saw the red Dodge head toward the Bar C.”

  “So something or someone distracted him.”

  “That was our theory at the time. Lamar called Jared to talk about his relationship with his daughter. Things got heated and Lamar pulled out his shotgun.”

  “My father didn’t have a phone, cell or otherwise,” Jena pointed out. “We couldn’t afford one.”

  “Yeah.” Brett tapped his fingers on the desk. “There was that, but we concluded Lamar could have called from anywhere.”

  “My father did not know Jared’s cell number.”

  “I told you nothing about the cases made sense. Then there’s Willie Bass.”

  Carson glanced up. “What’s ol’ Willie got to do with this?”

  “The next morning he came into town and said Lamar couldn’t have shot the Corbett boy because Lamar was drinking with him down at Willie’s shack on Willow Creek.”

  Carson frowned. “What happened with that?”

  “Later, Willie recanted everything. Said he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying. And that was it.”

  “My dad drank with Willie all the time because Willie sold his homemade moonshine for a dollar a gallon. He stayed more at Willie’s than he did at home.”

  Carson leaned forward. “That’s a hell of a lot of evidence left on the table uninvestigated.”

  “Yeah.” Brett agreed with him. “That’s always bothered me.”

  “Wait a minute.” Something clicked in Carson’s mind. “What about Jared’s phone? If Lamar called him, it would be on there.”

  “The phone was never found. We searched the truck and a mile radius around it. We even searched Lamar’s truck. Nothing. Jared had the cell at the convenience store, and it was always my feeling that whoever pulled the trigger on the shotgun took the cell.”

  “But the phone company would have a record of the calls,” Carson said.

  “Yep. They sure did. It took a while, but we finally got a list of calls Jared made and a list of people who called him. Besides friends at school, Asa was the only one who called Jared that day. The only explanation left was that Jared met someone on the way home and agreed to meet them on the country road. And that someone was Lamar Brooks.”

  “Did the sheriff agree?”

  “Yes, but then the investigation stopped.” Brett leaned back in his chair. “I don’t like to tell tales out of school, but everyone knew the old sheriff was pretty much in Asa’s pocket. When Asa wanted us out of Willow Creek, we left. I investigated some on my own but soon got caught up in another case and had to move on. The Willow Creek murders kept me awake many a night. I guess they always will.”

  When Carson had thought there was evidence still out there concerning the murders, he never dreamed there was this much. His father was right in the middle of it. Why did he stop the investigation?

  “For w
hat it’s worth—” Brett placed his forearms on the desk “—I felt that Lamar Brooks did not murder Jared Corbett. How Lamar’s shotgun got there I can’t tell you, but it was very damaging evidence that was hard to ignore. It was all Asa needed to see. And the shotgun that killed Lamar was never found.”

  “I knew that,” Carson said, getting to his feet. “My wife said Asa freely opened his gun cabinet to the sheriff.” But Carson knew his father could have easily gotten rid of the gun.

  “That was the only thing that Asa cooperated on.” Brett stood. “We wanted to search Jared’s room, but Asa adamantly refused.”

  Jena rose to stand by Carson. “What did you expect to find?”

  “Anything to give us a clue as to what had happened that night. I was really hoping Jared had made it home and gotten a call there. But Asa repeatedly said Jared never arrived at the house and the phone was not in his room. We had to take him at his word.”

  Carson held out his hand and Brett shook it. “Thanks for sharing your information, even though it creates a lot more questions.”

  As Jena shook the ranger’s hand, he said, “I hope you’re doing well, Ms. Brooks.”

  “I live in Dallas now and work at a law firm.”

  “That’s good.” Brett nodded his head. “Glad you put it behind you.”

  Carson could almost read the man’s mind. He wanted to ask about the baby, but being a ranger he wouldn’t cross that line.

  They drove away in silence. Jena twisted in her seat to face him. “That was an eye-opener.”

  “My father’s hand is in everything.”

  “I didn’t find that surprising.”

  He drove over the cattle guard and turned onto the road. “I don’t understand why Pa wouldn’t let them continue the investigation.”

  “Because, obviously, there’s some sort of cover-up.”

  He glanced at her. “That makes no sense.”

  “It does to me. Asa would do anything to get his way. I wouldn’t be surprised if he planted my father’s gun at the scene.”

  “Whoa. That’s a stretch. Next you’ll be saying my dad killed Jared.”