Daughter of Texas

She squeezed her eyes tight.

Why couldn’t this be a nightmare? Why couldn’t she open her eyes and find herself back at the dance studio? Or better yet, back to this morning when she’d kissed her father goodbye for the day, not realizing it would be the last time she’d ever see him alive.

A sob of pain and grief lodged in her throat. Tears leaked from her closed eyes. She fought to hold them back. She was usually so good at keeping her emotions under control.

But the image of her father lying in a pool of his own blood blazed in her head, forever imprinted in her mind. She shuddered. Ben’s hands smoothed over her back in a calming rhythm. He would find whoever had done this. Her father had trusted Ben.

Truth be told, so did she, even if she did harbor anger and resentment toward Ben for invading their lives and taking her father’s attention away from her. Every time they went off to do “guy” things, Corinna had seethed inside and longed to be included. She never was. They had locked her out of that world. Though as she’d grown older she’d resigned herself to being excluded, she still blamed the man her father had taken under his wing. The son he’d never had.

“Ben, we need you in here,” said a deep voice that Corinna recognized as Ranger Marvel Jones. He was a tall African-American man with a shaved head.

She felt Ben nod.

“In a minute,” Ben replied. “Can you ask Gisella to come here?”

“Sure thing,” Marvel said.

Ben tried to ease Corinna out of his arms. She resisted, unwilling to face reality on her own. Here, within Ben’s embrace, she felt safe, felt protected from the grief waiting to overwhelm her.

It didn’t make sense. He was the last person in the world she should be looking to for solace. Old wounds full of antagonism stirred, but the overpowering anguish wouldn’t let anything else in.

“Corinna, honey, I need to talk to you. Please, look at me,” Ben said, his voice soft and coaxing.

She shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered, not wanting to break the protective barrier of isolation that kept reality at bay. She squeezed her grip on his shirt, pulling herself tighter against his chest.

With gentle yet firm pressure he pushed her away and lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. “Open your eyes.”

Reluctantly, she did as he asked. For a moment her eyes wouldn’t focus, but then his familiar and handsome face came into view.

She stared at him dispassionately and took in his features, the strong jaw, lean cheekbones, straight nose. She liked the way his warm brown, close-cropped hair spiked up in front, giving him a roguish appeal. His dark brown eyebrows slashed over hazel eyes.

Eyes so full of the same pain and grief she felt.

Fresh tears burned the back of her eyes. Tears for this man whom her father had loved like a son. Ben was grieving, too.

From the moment her father had brought him home when he was a teenager, he’d been her rival for her father’s attention. He’d won.

Ben had become the son her father had wanted. The one he’d confided in, the one he took to his favorite sports events, the one who’d been groomed to follow in her father’s footsteps.

Oh, she’d never doubted her father’s love for her. He’d always attend her recitals, made a big deal of her birthdays and lavished her with gifts at Christmas, but it wasn’t the same as wanting to be with her.

An intense pain, a familiar ache of losing a parent—losing the person who knew, supported and loved you no matter what—lanced through her. Her chest tightened. Daddy. She would give up everything to have him back with her even for just a moment so she could tell him she loved him. But that would never happen.

Neither she nor Ben had had a chance to say goodbye.

“You got here before the police,” Corinna said aloud, realizing that several Rangers had arrived before she’d even heard the sirens.

He nodded. “Yes. The captain sent out a message to come here.”

Her pulse spiked. “He needed you.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Yes. If only I’d been closer, arrived sooner, maybe I could have prevented his murder.”

She wanted to blame him. To shout that yes, he should have been here to stop this from happening, but deep inside she knew that wasn’t fair. “If you had been here, you probably would have been shot as well.” She swallowed back the bile that rose. “If I had come home any earlier…” Her voice trailed off as the thought played itself out in her head. If she’d arrived any earlier, she, too, could very well be dead right now, not just injured.

Ben took in a sharp breath. “Thankfully, you didn’t.” He eased apart from her and stood. “I need to talk with Gisella for a moment.”

Her gaze slid to the female Ranger standing in the doorway, patiently awaiting Ben. Pallor underscored her olive skin and her dark eyes were sad. Dressed in worn blue jeans, soft leather boots and a Western-cut pale blue blouse, she didn’t look like a Ranger. Corinna wondered fleetingly what she did when not on duty.

“I’ll be right back,” Ben said and walked away.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, Corinna kept her gaze trained on Ben as he stood quietly talking with Gisella. From her peripheral vision she saw the EMTs roll in a gurney. Deep inside she knew it wasn’t for her father. Her father was dead. He’d be leaving with the coroner.

No, the gurney was for the man who’d survived the attack.

The man who might know who killed her father.

After a few moments, Ben and Gisella walked over to the couch, blocking Corinna’s view as the unidentified man was wheeled out. She dropped her gaze to her clenched hands. Her mind replayed the last images she had of her father. His body sprawled across the floor, blood staining the shirt she’d ironed for him that morning. His dear face frozen in death. A shudder ripped through her.

Gisella remained standing while Ben sat beside Corinna on the couch, crowding her space. His big, strong hands engulfed her slender, delicate ones, making her feel so small and helpless. She didn’t like the feeling at all, but at the moment, didn’t have the power to fight against it.

“You can’t stay here,” Ben said.

“Do you really think the person who shot at me might come back?”

“I don’t want to take any chances,” he said. “He can’t know for sure you didn’t see him.”

She hated the thought of being run out of her house. She wished she could be strong enough to stay. But…not tonight. Her father had been killed here. His blood still stained the carpet. Her blood was splattered on the door. She wondered if she’d ever be able to enter the study again.

Grief twisted her insides, making her ache way worse than any wound to her arm could. “There’s living quarters in the barn out back. I’ll stay there.”

From the way his lips flattened into a grim line, she could tell he wasn’t hip to her plan. “It would be better if you stayed somewhere else. Gisella has offered her house.”

“No. I wouldn’t want to bother anyone, even another Ranger.” Just the thought of the sympathy and hovering that her friends would do, made her recoil. She didn’t like to be coddled. She straightened her shoulders. “I’m staying. This is my home. I’ll not be run off. Someone needs to tend to the animals. Besides, how would anyone know I was in the barn?”

Disapproval flashed in his eyes. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Not your call, Ben.”

His mouth pressed into a grim line. “Then I’ll have SAPD post a guard outside.”

“Fine.” She appreciated his concern and caution, though she doubted it would be needed. “I’ll need to pack a few things to take out there with me.”

He pulled her to her feet and walked her toward her room, keeping his body between her line of vision and the study. Once they reached her room, he backed away with a nod, his face grim.

Gisella stepped into the room. “What can I do to help?”

Bring my father back to life. The thought flittered across Corinna’s mind. But no one could do that.

Her hands curled into fists. Anger roared through her like a lion on the chase.

Her soul cried out to God, Why? Why did You let him die, too?

Her faith in God had been rocked when her mother had died. She hadn’t understood why God had allowed the sickness to overtake her. Why, if God was the great physician, hadn’t He answered her prayers and healed her?

Her father had assured her God did love her. That God was good. That sickness was a part of the human condition. Words that didn’t offer comfort to a twelve-year-old girl.

Her father had also told her to remember she’d see her mother again one day in Heaven. Corinna had clung to that thought. And as long as God kept her father safe, she could cling to Him, too.

But now her father was dead.

God had turned His back on her prayers. God had never loved her. She didn’t even know if there really was a Heaven. She had nothing to cling to anymore. Her faith had been shaken to the core.

The barn’s living quarters consisted of a loft space with a pullout sleeper sofa, TV, table and chair. Ben had stayed in the loft on numerous occasions when he’d first met Greg and had needed a place to stay until he could afford his apartment. A small refrigerator sat in one corner and a wood stove with a pipe chimney took up space in the middle of the loft.

As Ben lit the stove to warm up the loft, he said, “I really wish you’d reconsider staying here.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. He figured she was going for haughty, but all he saw was a woman close to the breaking point.

“This is my home. My life. I get to decide. I can understand your concern, really, I can. But you’ve taken precautions. There isn’t anything more you can do.”

Even though he’d made arrangements to have a guard posted on the property, he had a bad feeling about leaving Corinna here. He couldn’t take chances with Greg’s daughter’s life. She was his responsibility now. He would protect her, be there for her and guide her as best he could.

As best she’d let him.

He didn’t doubt that once the shock wore off, Corinna’s icy superiority would return to replace the vulnerability in her pretty eyes.

And short of hauling her in for some trumped-up charge, he really had no say in where she stayed.

Before leaving, he made sure she had her cell phone and his number on speed dial in case of an emergency.

“I’ll be fine.” She’d moved to stand at the top of the loft stairs, her arms crossed over her chest, looking as if she were trying to contain her grief. “You go do what you need to do to find my father’s killer and don’t worry about me.”

Easier said than accomplished. But he left her in the barn and headed to the house. Back inside the study, Ben’s gaze fell on the dark crimson spot tarnishing the thick rug.

Both Greg and the other man were gone. Greg to the morgue, the mystery guy to the hospital with Marvel and Daniel riding along. The two Rangers had instructions to stick close to the man in case he awoke and also to provide protection.

Ben didn’t want the assassin trying to finish the job before they could get information out of the man who might hold the key to Greg’s murder.

Ranger Anderson Michaels stepped to Ben’s side, his thunderous expression reflecting the rage gathering steam inside Ben. “No weapon. No fingerprints, no shoe prints outside, either.”

Ben grunted in response. “A professional hit. Do you know what case Greg was working?”

“No. Care to enlighten me?”

“Seems he didn’t share it with any of us. Must have been a new case.”

Anderson gave him a quick glance. “You didn’t know? That’s so…wrong.”

Ben shrugged back the hurt trying to worm its way into his consciousness.

“Yes, it’s wrong,” Trevor remarked as he joined them just inside the doorway of the study. Tall and lanky with blond hair graying at the temples, his blue eyes were hard as ice. “The captain should’ve kept us in the loop. He was too much of a one-man show.”

Ben fisted his hands and slowly turned to face Trevor. “Do not ever besmirch the captain again.”

Trevor held up his hands, palms facing out. “Hey, I’m just telling it like it is. Pike was a good captain, but he kept too much too close to the vest. We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Ben rolled the tension from his shoulders as he tried not to see the truth in Trevor’s words. Greg had kept information from the team on occasion.

One incident in particular came to mind. There had been a string of jewelry store heists across the state. Somehow, Greg had had a lead on one of the thieves. He’d staked out the guy’s house. Alone.

He’d captured the man and then called in the bust. A stash of jewels had been found on the premises and the thief turned on his cohorts.

The situation had ended well. But it could have gone terribly wrong. Greg had gone against protocol, risking his life and the investigation. His defense was that he’d worked alone to minimize the chances the guy would get spooked and flee.

This time, Greg’s holding back had cost him his life.

“I want a thorough search of the house,” Ben said, loud enough for them all to hear. “There has to be some clue as to why Greg was killed.”

“On it,” Anderson said and moved away.

Ben didn’t have to give further instruction. The team knew what to do.

Ben ignored Trevor’s sharp glance. Though they shared the rank of lieutenant, Trevor had transferred over from Company A last year, so he was fairly new to the team. He hadn’t been with the company nearly as long as Ben and, therefore, hadn’t earned the respect and loyalty needed to lead the team. Having a short temper hadn’t won him any points, either. Ben wondered if the man was as tightly wound with his wife and daughters as he was with his comrades.

Ben had met Trevor’s wife, Sarah Donovan, once, at the Christmas party last year. A quiet, pretty lady who had seemed to prefer to stay in the background than have attention centered on her. Ben had liked her. The verdict was still out on Trevor.

Several hours later, their search of the house hadn’t revealed anything. Still no closer to knowing what was going on, Ben left the crime scene techs to finish up at the Pike home and secured an SAPD officer to stand watch near the barn.

Ben headed to the hospital. Hopefully, their mysterious victim had awoken and could shed some light on the night’s events. He drove through the quiet streets of San Antonio, noting that on this late September night there was little traffic and the hospital parking lot was nearly empty.

After stopping by the administration desk where he was given directions, Ben made his way to the fourth floor. Daniel and Marvel stood guard in front of the closed door of their victim’s room.

“Hey, Ben,” Daniel greeted him.

“Has he awakened?” Ben asked.

Daniel’s eyes looked troubled. “No. Doc says the guy’s in a coma. He can’t predict when or if he’ll come out of it.”

Not the news Ben wanted to hear. Disappointment fed his anger. “I’ll contact SAPD and get around-the-clock guards on this guy. Until then, you two okay to stay?”

Marvel nodded. “I don’t have anyone waiting at home for me, so yeah, I can stay.”

“No hot dates tonight?” Daniel teased.

Marvel grinned, even white teeth flashing against his chocolate skin. “Nope. Free agent these days. But I do have my eye on a little filly I met in the park.”

Marvel was a real ladies’ man, but so far no woman had captured the marathon runner’s heart. “How about you, Daniel? You good to stay the night?”

Daniel shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

Ben nodded, knowing he could always count on the Ranger. Daniel came from wealth but chose to live a life dedicated to serving justice. A life that sometimes came with a price. For Daniel, that had been the loss of his marriage and estrangement from his son.

“When the uniforms show, you’re free to leave. We’ll convene in the morning at the office.” Ben pressed his lips together as a wave of sorrow hit. He wouldn’t be seeing Greg tomorrow. Not ever again.

Daniel put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “We’ll find the guy who did this.”

Ben wished he had the same confidence echoing in Daniel’s voice. He cleared his throat, forcing back his emotions. “Yeah. Call if anything develops.”

The sound of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum disturbed the quiet hallway. Ben turned to see a white-coated man in his mid-thirties approaching.

“Doctor Vargas,” Daniel said below his breath.

Ben stepped forward. The doctor came to a stop.

“Gentlemen, I see you’re still here,” the doctor said in a thick Spanish accent.

Ben stuck out his hand. “Ranger Fritz.”

“Doctor Ramon Vargas.” They shook hands.

“We’ll be arranging an around-the-clock guard detail for the man in this room,” Ben said.

The doctor’s dark eyebrows rose. “I thought he was a victim, not a criminal.”

“We don’t know what he is at this point. And until he wakes up, we’re sticking close.” Ben glanced at the door. “I’d like to see him.”

“I’m sure you’re aware he’s unconscious,” the doctor stated with a slight rebuff in his tone.

“I understand,” Ben said, his voice mild, but he held the man’s gaze, making it clear he’d have his way.

Doctor Vargas inclined his head. “Of course. Always willing to cooperate with the authorities.”

Something in the doctor’s voice snagged Ben’s attention. But the congenial expression on the man’s face belied any antagonism. Shrugging it off as trauma from the night’s events, Ben entered the hospital room.

The man lying on the bed was a Caucasian male, with shaggy black hair, pale skin. He looked to be about five foot ten in height with an average build. There was a slight scar under his left eye. No tattoos on his arms, which rested on the blanket covering his body. IVs and monitors were hooked up to the guy. He looked like he was peacefully sleeping.

Somewhere Ben had heard that people in comas could hear what was going on around them. Maybe he’d wake up if Ben talked to him. It was worth a shot.

Because at the moment, this man was the key to finding Corinna’s father’s murderer.

Ben moved to stand next to the bed and leaned in close. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not. My name’s Ben Fritz. I’m with the Texas Rangers. You should wake up now and tell us what happened.”

Ben waited. The man didn’t stir. Disappointment spiraled through him. Maybe it was too soon.

“I told you he was unconscious,” Doctor Vargas said from the foot of the bed.

“So you did. Any idea when he’ll wake up?”

The doctor gave him a droll look. “I’m not a psychic, Ranger Fritz. When his mind and body are ready to heal, they will.”

Ben nodded. “I pray it’s sooner rather than later.”

The doctor inclined his head and left the room. Ben followed him out.

“Keep me posted,” he said to Daniel and Marvel before leaving the hospital.

Fifteen minutes later Ben arrived at his apartment complex outside downtown San Antonio in the northern suburb of Hollywood Park. His one-bedroom apartment was on the second floor in the back overlooking the pool and hot tub. On cool evenings like this it was quiet, but in the summers, when the children were out of school, the noise level rose to deafening decibels. Ben didn’t mind.

He rather liked the sound of kids having fun as they played in the curved swimming pool and visited in the common area. Happy noises that stirred hope of one day having a family, a wife and children of his own. His dismal upbringing—orphaned by the drug trade at five and then bouncing around foster homes—could have squashed that dream, not to mention his occupation…but the hope of a family of his own still thrived.

Tonight, only the gurgle of the hot tub floated on the cool air as he made his way up the stairs. He entered his dark apartment and went to his bedroom to sit on the edge of the double bed. His numbed feelings slowly gave way to the grief and anguish of finding his captain murdered. Ben slipped from the bed to land on his knees.

Welling grief, sorrow and anger expanded in his chest until he thought he might explode. Silent sobs wracked his body. His heart throbbed with pain.

“I don’t understand, Lord. Why did this happen?”

Silence met his cry.

Ben dropped his face into his hands and wept for the man who had been the closest thing to a real, loving father that Ben had ever known. Greg had taken the time to teach Ben not only about law enforcement, specifically being a Ranger, but had taught him how to be a man. To be kind and fair yet never back down from the principles that they lived by. Greg had included Ben in his and Corinna’s family circle, small as it was.

He’d enjoyed and looked forward to many holidays spent together at the Pike house. Memories flittered across Ben’s mind. Though they’d exchanged gifts every year, for Ben the best gift of all had been the time spent with the Pikes. Though he and Corinna hadn’t had much of a relationship—she’d always been cool and aloof—he’d still enjoyed seeing her joy at the gifts her father abundantly gave her.

Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

Holidays wouldn’t be the same. He didn’t know if Corinna would want to spend them with him. He doubted so since it would just be the two of them now. They didn’t know each other well. She barely tolerated him as it was. A hollow feeling filled the pit of his stomach.

He didn’t know how he was going to be able to keep his promise to Greg. He could only hope God would provide the way.

His cell rang, the shrill sound startling in the quiet. Hoping the call was a break in the case, Ben scrambled to pluck the device from the top of the dresser.

He pulled himself together and managed to answer without sounding like he’d been blubbering like a baby. “Fritz.”

“Hi, it’s me, Corinna.” Her soft, feminine voice sounded a bit shaky.

Concern flared. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…coping. You?”

He relaxed, letting the tension in his shoulders ease. “Coping is a good way to describe it.”

“How is the other vic…victim?”

His heart twisted to hear the catch in her voice. “He’s in a coma. I have guards posted outside his room.”

“You really think the killer will come after him again?”

“I do. I just pray he awakens soon and can tell us who we’re looking for.”

“I hope that, too. This whole night seems so surreal.”

Ben understood. He could only imagine how devastated she must be. Greg had always said Corinna was the ray of sunshine that made his world brighter even during the darkest cases. Ben’s chest squeezed. Who would Corinna bring sunshine to now?

Forcing himself to speak past the tightness constricting his throat, he said, “If you need anything, Corinna, you can count on all of the Rangers. We are your family now.”

A moment of silence filled the line. “Thank you. I’ll say good night now.”

“Good night.”

There’d been an undertone in her voice. Something different than he’d ever heard before. Anger? Hurt?

He smacked his head. She’d just lost her father. Of course she was hurting. They both were.

He vowed to do whatever it took to make the person responsible for their pain pay. Dearly.

THREE

Corinna stared at the bright blue numbers on the clock. 3:00 a.m. She couldn’t sleep. The nocturnal noises of the horses and other animals that made the barn their home kept her nerves stretched taut. Finally, she left the warmth of the pullout sofa and padded barefoot across the wood plank floor to the refrigerator hoping to find something inside to drink. She wasn’t really surprised to see the fridge empty. It had been a long time since anyone had stayed in the loft.

Maybe the officer outside would be willing to go inside and retrieve some snacks for her.

Slipping on her fuzzy blue slippers and feeling the weight of her “just in case” gun deep in the folds of one robe pocket and her cell phone in the other, she left the loft and made her way outside into the yard lit by the glow of a full moon. Gabby followed closely at her heels. Corinna didn’t see her guard. He must be positioned in a strategic place somewhere in the front of the house. She wished she’d thought to ask for his name so she could call out to him.