Ranger Guardian Page 6
“What do you think is going on? You ruled out identity theft, but what else could it be?”
“That was my first guess. But the participants haven’t lost money. At least not that they’ll admit to me. They receive their payments from the study. I suspect that Public Exposure has a bigger plan. I just can’t determine what direction to even look.”
“Remember—whatever they’re doing, it’s big enough to want you out of the way. They must think you’re on to something.”
Yesterday’s car incident came rushing back. “I could have gotten both of us killed.”
“It was my fault, babe. I was the one who wanted to follow the van.” His palm covered her upper arm, then slid up and down comfortingly before he pulled it back across the console.
“No one’s to blame. I appreciate you checking them out. Seriously. Now we have a lead.”
“A definite connection to Public Exposure, like you suspected.” He adjusted in his seat, looking antsy and uncomfortable.
She turned the SUV a couple of times and realized they were a few minutes away from their destination. She hadn’t gone by the office to verify information or follow any of her normal procedures of obtaining another vehicle. The excitement of working with Heath today and all his information had totally distracted her from her normal routine.
Even the drama at home this morning couldn’t take away from the excitement of working with this particular Texas Ranger. He believed her. He trusted her instincts.
She stopped and shifted the car into Park with two blocks to go.
“You got me so excited about advancing the case, I forgot to pick up a Bureau car.”
“Well, damn. There’s not room for them both with Skylar Dawn’s booster seat back there.” He joked as if he hadn’t been waiting for her to figure that out on her own.
He’d never chance someone discovering what car they drove. Neither would she. They’d have to go back. Fortunately, they weren’t far from the field office.
“Look, Heath. I might have suggested that I’m totally in charge here. But that shouldn’t stop you from sharing your ideas and consulting with me.”
“Tell me what you need, Kendall. I’m at your service.”
“Advice. Honest advice, not just what I want to hear. Last night my supervisor was getting in my head, making me wonder if this was truly worth pursuing.”
The truth of her words didn’t scare her. It felt good to say them out loud.
“Last night you didn’t know these people had tried to kill you.”
“They tried to kill you, too.”
He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I’m pretty certain they didn’t know I was on the case with you. They might now, but yesterday was all about you.”
“You’re probably right about that.” She hesitated to mention the panicked feelings she had the day before, but if they were working together, maybe he should know. But the words didn’t form.
“Head to your office. Arrange for backup. Then we can bring both of the drivers in for an interview.”
Was he asking a question or giving her a suggestion?
“Why do I get the feeling that you aren’t going with me?”
“I don’t mind taking a walk and keeping an eye on things until you get back.”
“No. You’re right. We honestly don’t know how these people are going to react. They tried to kill us, Heath. What would happen to Skylar Dawn?”
“I see your point. We wouldn’t want your mother raising her.” He followed up with a laugh.
Heath had always been honest with her. Even though he’d chuckled, hard truth echoed in his words. Their daughter could not end up an orphan.
“You asked me for my honest opinion, Kendall. I gave it to you.” He turned in the seat, picking up his hat from next to the car seat in back.
“You are not going out there on your own.”
“I’m just going to verify the suspects are home. Just a little old-fashioned Ranger surveillance while you get things settled. If I have a problem, I’ll call Jack. He’s close by on assignment.”
He opened his door.
“Call Jack on the way. You knock. I’ll have your back from the street.”
“Good idea. Let’s go.”
He winked at her like that had been his plan all along.
Chapter Eight
Heath made the call to Jack while on their walk around the corner. His voice sounded normal, no overreaction, no urgency. But Kendall could feel the readiness in his determined steps. In the way he moved his badge from his shirt to his suit coat. And in the way he flipped that same jacket behind his holster.
She clicked the lock button on her key ring, and the horn echoed off the gas station behind it. She looked down the block at an array of businesses on Lemmon Avenue, then back in the direction they were heading—full of renovated homes and thirty-year-old apartment buildings. Truly one of the up-and-coming parts of Dallas. One side of the street had gated driveways with stairs leading up to the front doors. The other side had parking along the street.
“This isn’t a good place to follow someone,” she mumbled since Heath was still talking to Jack.
“I texted the address,” he said into the phone. “Yeah, we headed straight here instead of picking up a government issue. Right. No way we’re letting them get a look at Kendall’s regular ride. Skylar Dawn’s seat is in the back...Six minutes is great. We’ll be at the corner.”
Six minutes. They could wait six minutes. The drivers from the previous day didn’t know they were coming. Together with Heath, she could observe, make a plan, get prepared, call her office for backup.
“I can’t believe I totally forgot to grab a sedan,” she said once he was off the phone.
“We were talking, no big deal. Jack won’t be long. This may turn out to be nothing.”
Waiting on one of Heath’s fellow Rangers would give them time to collaborate. But each minute ticked by excruciatingly slowly. And quietly. The more time she spent observing their surroundings, the less she felt like talking. Heath sent the pictures and information about the two suspects to her phone. She had a good image of who they were looking for.
“Good idea.” She tilted her phone’s screen toward him. “I can barely remember anything about how they look. Saundra Rosa and Bryan Marrone. I didn’t give them a second thought.”
“You can’t do everything, Kendall. Even though you get close every day.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. Partly because she wasn’t good at accepting praise and partly because of the weird feeling the neighborhood gave her.
Four more minutes.
“About this thing with your mother...”
Heath raised his hat and pushed his longer-than-normal hair back from his forehead. Then he secured his official white hat once again. It was one of his common stall tactics, waiting for her to explain or offer an excuse for Naomi. Then he wouldn’t have to talk. But there was no excuse.
“It was wrong and uncalled-for. I told her as much.” She did a three-sixty checking the neighborhood again. “Isn’t it kind of weird that no one’s around? Not a single person.”
“You noticed that, too?”
“Do you feel this?” She twirled her finger in the air. “It’s like that time at Fright Fest when the zombies were following me.”
“Actually, watching you there was a lot of fun for me. But I know what you mean.”
“You’re getting that prickly sensation like someone’s watching you?”
“That would be an affirmative.” His voice lowered as his right hand descended to rest on his weapon. “You noticing a theme with these houses?”
They passed Rawlins Street heading to the next block.
“Either they all used the same bucket of paint for their trim...” She counted two houses without the same color
. Heath kept walking but managed to turn in a full circle, checking their backs.
“Or they’re all owned by the same corporation, which has an odd color preference.” Most of the house trim looked the same as the apartment windows from the previous block. She’d seen that specific color every day recently in her files. “Unless you’re really into Public Exposure orange.”
“You think everyone who uses that color are members? Maybe it’s a home owners’ association thing.” He shrugged. “Maybe they’re just weird.”
“Or part of a cult.”
He cut a disbelieving look in her direction. “Let’s talk with the drivers before we draw any concrete conclusions.”
She wasn’t sure she was off the mark, though. “I don’t think Brantley Lourdes leads Public Exposure like a religious cult. But these people all listen to their leader as if nothing he says is wrong. Why else would two people be willing to crash into us, risking their lives?”
“You think Lourdes is capable of an attack?”
“I...I’m not sure.” She had no facts to back up her feeling. But just like yesterday, she knew they were being watched. The unmistakable itch raised the hair on the back of her neck.
Heath grabbed her elbow, gently pulling her to a stop. He searched her eyes like he had a thousand times before. “You are sure.” He tapped one-handed on his phone, putting it on speaker. “Jack, I’m not sure what’s going on here. Stay sharp.”
“Hang on, I’m still two blocks away. Don’t do anything until I get there,” Jack said.
“Man, we’ve moved past the corner. If I were Wade, I’d say I have a bad feeling about this. Hell, we’re heading back to the SUV.” Heath hung up.
“Hang on—” She wanted to delay the retreat, but one worried glance from her husband substantiated the uneasiness racing through her blood.
“We both know something around here isn’t right, Kendall. How much digging have you done into this Public Exposure group? What’s not in the file?”
She faced toward the SUV and began slowly moving down the sidewalk. It was no surprise that Heath took his steps backward next to her, keeping a wary watch behind them.
“Not enough apparently.” But that was something she’d correct first thing she could.
“My general research last night gave me the impression they’re mostly considered a do-good organization that encourages people to get off social media and interact with others.”
Kendall couldn’t shake the strange, creepy feeling. Even nature seemed to be in on setting the mood. No dogs barked, no birds chirped. The air hung heavy and thick.
“Excuse me. Can I help you?” A man stood in one of the orange doorways of the corner house.
Heath whipped around, ready for an attack. “Texas Ranger Heath Murray, sir. Sorry if we’ve alarmed you. Everything’s fine.”
Heath stopped moving toward the vehicle and didn’t remove his fingers from his weapon. The thumb strap was unsnapped, ready to pull.
That creepy feeling got stronger, even though the man looked normal enough and splayed his empty hands for them to see.
“We’d appreciate if you returned indoors, sir.” Kendall issued the directive, but the man stayed put. She couldn’t force herself to move away.
“I’d rather know what’s going on.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m calling the police.”
Even though he didn’t have a threatening posture, the situation felt off. Everything about it shouted a scenario from training. One where she turned her back and got a rubber bullet bouncing off of it.
“That’s your right. Please go inside to make the call.”
“I have my phone right here.”
“Don’t do it. Keep your hands in the air. I’m FBI. Do not reach for anything.” She drew her weapon keeping the barrel toward the ground, then tapped Heath’s shoulder, letting him know she had his back. “My partner is going to approach and verify that you’re unarmed.”
He was closer, so it was natural for him to check the man out.
“Okay, okay. I’ll go back inside.”
“You’ll stay where you are,” Heath shouted. “Keep your hands above your head, turn around slowly then take a step backward.”
The man seemed innocent enough, but the uneasy feeling of the neighborhood persisted.
“There’s a step. I’ll fall.” The man stretched his hands higher and took a step inside his open door.
“Stop!” they both shouted.
Heath moved toward the man, who finally froze. A little way down the street, she saw movement—two people running then ducking behind a car. One had hesitated when they’d shouted.
“Movement at nine o’clock,” she informed Heath. “It might be our couple.”
“One thing at a time. Jack will be here any minute.” He took a final step, reaching the man, giving him instructions and letting him know what was coming next in the pat-down.
The neighborhood was still unusually quiet. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a car, heard the doors shut—no matter how quietly they tried to accomplish it. Every sound seemed to echo under the dense trees.
The man now faced her. Heath had explained how he’d watched the glances of the two suspects the day before. From behind her sunglasses, she watched the man who’d gained their attention. Every so often he darted his gaze in the direction of where the people had been running.
Then a crazy gleam was in his eye and the corner of his mouth twitched—just like a person about to smile. He blinked heavily and stretched his eyebrows to relax his eyes before he noticed that she watched.
There it was again—his eyes darted quickly in the direction of a car starting.
“Heath, he’s a distraction. Our couple is in a car down the street.”
“You sure?”
“Ninety percent.”
Heath removed handcuffs from his back pocket, locked one around the man’s wrist. He quickly moved him next to the porch post and locked his other wrist around it. The man couldn’t run away.
“Let’s go.” He turned and took off in one motion, getting several feet ahead of her.
They didn’t bother keeping to the sidewalk, but simply ran across the lawns to the end of the block. A horn blared from behind, then next to them. Jack.
“Where are we running to? Hi, Kendall,” Jack casually said through his open window.
A car peeled out, passing Jack’s big truck and heading in the opposite direction.
“Go with Jack. Follow the car.”
It wasn’t her first rodeo. She’d been in charge before. She should be telling the guys what to do. But Heath took off around a parked car and she jumped inside the truck. Maybe her husband had seen something she’d missed, since he wasn’t heading in the direction of the car.
“What did this guy do?” Jack asked, quickly following the car down the next left.
She had one eye on the sedan and kept looking around for anything suspicious. Again, there was nothing there, just the spine-chilling feeling that they were being watched. Even while speeding down the street.
“Nothing solid. Yet.”
* * *
HEATH DIDN’T HAVE time to explain why he ran in the opposite direction of the car. He’d seen the woman’s pink sweater in the thick shrubbery bordering the apartment complex they were next to. At least he thought he’d seen a pink sweater. Replaying the car’s hasty exit in his head, he couldn’t visualize two people inside.
Only one.
So he’d taken off. Playing out a hunch.
Hell, he didn’t know for certain if he chased the woman from yesterday. How should he know if she dressed in pink every day? What had caught his eye might actually be another decoy. He had no way of knowing. But the sweater happened to be the same color as the car from the day before.
And he didn’t believe in
coincidences.
He headed to the north side of the house, where he’d seen the top of a blond head before it ducked behind a large oak tree. Gotcha!
Grabbing a decorative post to keep his feet under him as he made a sharp right-angled turn, he followed the fluff of pink between two houses. His jacket caught on thorns as he barreled through the narrow path that was basically the width of his shoulders.
As a bead of sweat rolled into his eye, he twisted sideways, wishing to ditch the regulation jacket and hat. He used the sleeve to wipe his face when he slowed at the southwest corner of an old wooden home.
Dang. Rosebushes.
The woman was a lot slimmer than he was to have made it through this gauntlet without getting stuck. The thorny growth on the lattice at his shoulder might appear pretty from the street, but it kept him from scooting next to the house for cover.
Basically, he was sticking his neck out and hoping for the best. He looked around, then pulled back to a position that hid him from the street.
Slowing his breathing, he listened. He kept his movements small and again used his sleeve to wipe droplets of sweat from his face. He wasn’t overheating. The humidity was high—like running through a rain cloud.
No matter how much he tried, he hadn’t grown used to running in his suit. Boots, yes. Hat, yes. But suit, no. He’d run in boots and a hat his entire life. He’d always had a hat on his head. There weren’t many pictures, going all the way back to before he could walk, without one.
And boots? Well, they were safer than tennis shoes where he’d grown up in Southwest Texas. Rattlers, scorpions and other varmints didn’t like to be suddenly disturbed by a boy running after a horse or his father.
Funny what went through his head while chasing a subject.
Skylar Dawn on the other hand was dressed in all sorts of frills. Boots were the exception not the rule—except on weekends at the Thompson’s ranch.