“You know that’s not a good idea. Especially after we know somebody put a tracker on the car and then tried to run us off the interstate.”
“Which is precisely why I’m going to do it. We know they’ll be looking for us, but we can be ready. Use me as bait, draw whoever it is out. We need to find out who killed Steven. I’m tired of being hounded by the police, by the reporters and paparazzi. I want my life back.”
“Might work,” Ranger muttered softly, grabbing another biscuit off the plate.
“I don’t like it. Suzanna’s already at the top of the cops suspect list. Going to see Donald Blackthorn yesterday was simply poking the bear to see if we got a rise out of him. What’s to say the killer simply sits outside the restaurant and when she leaves, takes her out with a kill shot? The investigation stops, because the main suspect is dead. Dawkins’ will finishes probate uncontested, and the whole thing blows over, because I doubt anybody would catch Suzanna’s shooter. Case over—but she’s still dead.” Gage stood and walked over to stare out the kitchen window.
Suzanna watched him closely, but couldn’t read the emotions crossing his face. His body was stiff, like he was trying to hold everything inside. Standing, she walked over and took his hand.
“Come on, let’s take a walk. I think we should talk.”
Without a word, he followed her through the house and outside. Stopping on the porch, she looked out across the verdant green law lush and spreading out toward the front of the property. Not knowing which way to go, but deciding they needed some privacy, and still holding his hand, she headed toward the Boudreau’s barn.
“Why are we going to the barn?”
“A couple of reasons. First off, we need to talk. Secondly, I wanted to meet Otto. I heard many tales about the fearsome beast from Jamie, and promised her I’d tell him hello.”
“Otto? You mean the donkey? You do know he bites.” Gage’s voice was filled with humor, which was exactly why she’dmentioned the donkey. She’d wanted to lift his spirits, because she’d been the one to suggest going to Dallas again tomorrow. Not that she was changing her mind; she was going, she simply wanted him to understand why.
“He’s not going to bite me.”
They walked side by side toward the barn, the open fenced off paddock empty at the moment. She suddenly realized she was still holding his hand. When she tried to let go, he squeezed it gently, keeping it wrapped in his, and she acquiesced, letting him hold it.
“I love this place.” Gage’s words seemed to come out of nowhere as he rested his forearms against the wood of the paddock, his eyes scanning the dusty enclosure. “The ranch, the town, there’s really nothing unique or special about them, yet to a kid who’d lost everything it was like being granted access to magic.”
“I heard you lived here a long time ago.”
“I did. For far too short a time, but it made an indelible memory. I’ve never forgotten how Douglas would let me work with the horses, or help Ms. Patti in her vegetable garden. We were all assigned chores, and I was a lousy, rotten brat. You wouldn’t believe the trouble I’d cause, simply because I could.”
She smiled. “I bet you were a handful.”
“You how they say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Story of my life.”
“Tell me.” Though she said the words impulsively, she meant it. She desperately wanted to know everything about Gage. Find out what made him the man he was, what made him tick.
“It’s not a pretty story.” The gruff edge in his voice made her want to know even more.
“It’s part of who you are, and if you’re willing to talk, I’m willing to listen. And I think being here, back where you’ve got good memories, might be the best place to tell me.”
“It started with murder.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Detective Jansen waslate. He’d set up the meeting with the informant for seven o’clock, but he hadn’t been able to get away from the station, and now he was afraid the snitch hadn’t waited. The anonymous phone call gave him hives. He didn’t trust it for a second, but when the caller said they had information about Steven Dawkins’ murder, he couldn’t ignore it.
The place set for the meet up was in a lousy section of Dallas, best known for drug deals, cheap booze, and hookers working the corners. Rundown and dirty, the homeless population considered this area a haven, because most of the cops tended to ignore them, allowing them to sleep off their booze or drug-fueled days.
Turning into the alley between an all-night liquor store and a twenty-four hour condom emporium boasting their wares, he climbed from behind the wheel of his unmarked vehicle. He worried about not bringing his partner, but he’d been warned if the snitch saw anybody with him or if he was followed, he’d destroy any evidence and Jansen would never hear from them again.
The alleyway was dark and stand of garbage from overflowing dumpsters that obviously hadn’t been emptied in weeks and the stench of urine and other bodily discards he didn’t want to think about. All he wanted was to get the info promised. At first, this case had promised to be the one that propelled him toward a captaincy. Now it had morphed into the biggest headache. What initially looked like a slam dunk turned intoconspiracy theories and corporate espionage allegations. Toss in Gustavo Sandoval and you had a cocktail of problems that seemed unending.
Now he had the feds breathing down his neck. Which meant he had to get off his keister and actually find out if Suzanna Dawkins was the perfect suspect or did the evidence point to something bigger, a threat that went far deeper than a murder for gain by a gold digger wife. Suzanna Dawkins didn’t look or act like anything but a grieving widow. Not a conniving murderer.
A lone shadow moved around from behind a dumpster, careful to stay in the shadows, a black hoodie obscuring his face. Jansen took several steps closer, until the figure held up his hand.
“Stop right there.” The voice was raspy and low, but Jansen could hear it clear enough to tell there was faint Hispanic accent. Not unusual in Dallas. It was a melting pot of every nationality under the sun.
“I’m here, like you said. What have you got for me?”
