Body of Evidence. Lenora Worth
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just go and heat up that chili.”
He gave her a little half smile. “I’ll get freshened up, make some calls and be back at the main house in about half an hour.”
“That should work.”
That would give Jennifer time to wipe this silly schoolgirl fuzziness right out of her brain. The man was here to do a job and from the looks of things, he was so focused and single-minded, he probably hadn’t even noticed she was a woman. Too bad she had her own work to concentrate on. Or maybe, a good thing she did have work to concentrate on. ’Cause she sure didn’t need to walk around sighing about a good-looking Ranger. Hadn’t she learned from her parents’ divorce that good-looking, adrenaline-junkie-type men didn’t make great husband material?
Yes, she certainly had, and she would bet the farm that Anderson Michaels got a rush out of fighting crime much in the same way her dynamic father had gotten a rush out of stalking snakes and alligators. That didn’t leave much room for home and hearth.
She only wished she could tell her girlfriends about Anderson next time they headed in to San Antonio for a girl’s night out.
Anderson looked out the window of the bleak bunkhouse, watching Jennifer walk back to the main cabin. Only one security light for the whole place and it was as weak as a flickering candle at that. Did the woman even think about her own safety at all? She was a sitting duck out here alone at night with drug runners in her backyard.
Anderson didn’t want to think what might happen if Jennifer tried to tangle with these nasty squatters. He’d seen enough crime scenes involving drug wars to know the drill—torture, mutilations and slow, horrible deaths. He couldn’t imagine that happening to this woman.
Even though he was here to watch and observe, he wouldn’t let that happen to Jennifer Rodgers.
So he checked in with his new captain, Ben Fritz, trying to stay focused on the case. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m at the rescue farm and in the bunkhouse. As a courtesy, I alerted the local sheriff, too. He wasn’t too keen on not being in on the investigation, but I’m hopeful he’ll stay out of the way unless needed. As for Jennifer Rodgers, it was a hard sell, but for now I’m on the case. And not a minute too soon. She said someone’s been messing with a new alligator pen she’s just started building on the back of her property. This place is sure off the beaten path and has about as much security as an open-air flea market. Easy pickings.”
He heard Ben let out a breath. “Be careful. Just watch and learn for now. We need to find out if anyone around there has seen either Eddie Jimenez or our mysterious coma victim. Or anyone else we can tie to this case, for that matter. And remember, I want you to follow up on any leads we get from that photo we released of our comatose suspect.”
“Got it.” Anderson planned to lock and load, too, if need be. “I can tell you right now, the place is way too isolated for my tastes. A woman alone out here—”
“Careful, buddy. That woman might think she has it all under control. You can advise her, but it’s up to her to listen.”
“Yeah, well, these are dangerous thugs. They don’t respect women.”
“I know that and so do you. Part of your job is to convince said woman of that. And your main reason for being there is to try and catch these thugs in the act, not become a bodyguard.”
“I always get the hard cases.”
“You’re good at the hard cases. Just keep the drop site under surveillance and see if there’s been any recent activity, maybe talk to some of the neighbors and the workers. Look for any kind of evidence we might use. Then wait and see if we get any more activity out there.”
“I plan to go out to the site as soon as possible,” Anderson replied. “According to what she told me tonight, things are already heating up around here. She saw a man running away from a cut fence the other day. Could get dicey.”
“Keep an eye on her. Those drug runners won’t like anyone messing around in what they consider their territory. And neither will the Lions if they get wind of this. If they risk showing up again back there, we have to catch ’em in the act.”
“I thought I wasn’t a bodyguard.”
“Not yet. But you can’t stand by and let her walk right into the middle of this, either.”
“Got it.”
Anderson put away his cell, thinking Ben was a fine one to talk about stubborn, independent women. He was so in love with Corinna Pike it wasn’t funny. But it was sweet and nice, if you went for that kind of thing. Anderson was too married to his work for such nonsense, or so his mother and his baby sister told him with disgust each time the family had Sunday dinner.
“One day, son, that tune’s gonna change into a whole different melody,” his mother would always say. “Then we’ll be hearing the ‘Wedding March.’”
Jennifer Rodgers came to mind.
“Maybe one day, Mama.”
But not today. And not anytime soon. Anderson had a strict code that required he stay focused on the case. He’d learned early on that being a Ranger was tough on family life. So he just played at dating here and there, mostly when his mother would force some nice woman on him. Never worked out. They usually ran away screaming because of his heavy work schedule and his inability to commit.
So his rule was steadfast. Get in, get the job done and keep moving.
His goal while here was to find out as much as he could about the drug runners using this land and to hopefully catch one or two. Catching one of the Lions of Texas would be even better since the Rangers had a hunch that some of the Lions often met up with the lower cartel members back there. Couple that with trying to protect a stubborn woman and, well, Anderson would be busy around the clock. No time for a love life.
His stomach growled, reminding him of that chili up at the cabin. Looking around, Anderson decided he could do all right in the austere confines of this old bunkhouse. The dusty, outdated place wasn’t user-friendly in a cozy kind of way, but it was functional, and besides, he planned to spend most of his nights out on the property.
A mean late-fall wind howled and hollered through the open pasture across from the cabin. It had already been a rainy week and from the look of those dark clouds over the horizon, more rain might come. Anderson followed the aged, worn trail past the many out-buildings and animal pens, noticing smoke curling from the big chimney. That did look cozy.
He’d studied this track of land, using old maps and internet sites to clarify just how much additional land Jennifer had bought up after Martin Rodgers’ death in a boating accident on the Amazon River. From what Anderson could tell, she’d had a fairly large piece of property to begin with but she’d added around twenty-five additional acres. Anderson would have to find the seller and ask that person about any suspicious activities, too.
“Wonder where her mother is?” Anderson muttered to himself while he tapped mud off his boots, then knocked on the side door at the back of the cabin. Another question to ask, he thought.
Jennifer opened the door without even looking out.
“You need to check who’s here before you unlock the door,” Anderson said by way of a greeting.
“You need to remember I’m not used to having people here for supper. I knew it was you.”
“How’d you know?”
“Because everyone else has left for the day and you’re the only other person here.”
Stubborn had just met up with Stubborn, Anderson decided. “Do I need to remind you why I’m here?”
She waved him to the table. “No. I pretty much got that earlier. No need to go over it again.”
“But there is a need for you to be more aware and a lot more careful. You might think you can handle any intruders but this is the big league. If they even