Justice for a Ranger. Rita Herron
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he must be damn good at his job.
What did he know about the investigation? Something the Rangers hadn’t revealed to the press?
Her hand trembled as she turned up the second shot glass.
Was he here to arrest one or both of her parents?
COLE TOOK ANOTHER long pull of the beer, hoping the cold liquid would chill the fire burning his body. A heat caused both from his temper at her reaction to his name and his body reacting with lust to her every movement.
“So, Cole, how did you get to be a Ranger?”
A smile quirked his mouth. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d just made the woman nervous.
Then again, knowing what he did about her family, he figured the Rangers were probably the last people she wanted to see.
And his brothers probably would resent her interference, as well. Since the Rangers were part of the state agency, they’d think the governor sent her to spy on them. Hell, he probably had.
“I joined the Army at seventeen,” he said with a shrug. Unlike Zane, who’d gone to college, earned a degree in criminal justice and worked in criminal investigation. Or Sloan, who had been sheriff of Justice.
“Then I spent some time in the Middle East, got into military security.” Sniper training to be exact, but he didn’t have to spill his guts. Like how many kills he had under his belt. “When I got out, I joined the DPS and became a motorcycle state trooper for a couple of years.”
She cocked a brow at that, and he grinned. “The way you handled that bike, you must have grown up on a Harley.”
He laughed, then sobered as he remembered how hard he’d worked to earn his first bike. Just the way he’d scraped for everything in his life. “Naw, on a ranch, but I was a bull rider.” And he wanted to ride her.
The thought made him tighten his fingers around the long neck of the beer bottle. He could not get involved with Joey Hendricks. Even though he’d earned the college credits necessary for the Rangers, he was rough around the edges. He’d hunted down the worst dregs of society, worked undercover in operations that would make her head spin. He’d killed and not looked back.
She was sophisticated. Educated. Out of his league.
And although she worked for the governor and might not admit it, she was tied to this town and her family. Had a vested interest in protecting her parents, whereas he was tied to no one. Didn’t care who was arrested as long as justice was served. In fact, he wouldn’t be in town long enough to let the dust settle on his seat. And if he had to lock up one of his blood kin, so be it.
“So, you haven’t seen your brothers yet?” she asked.
“You mean half brothers?” He finished his beer, then grunted. “Nope. I’ll have that pleasure in the morning.”
She nodded, and drummed her fingernails on the table, then glanced around the bar, looking restless again. Or was she looking for someone in particular?
“What about you? Visited your family yet?”
Pain tightened her features. “No. Haven’t spoken to Mommy and Daddy dearest in years.”
Now, that surprised him. On second thought, he didn’t know why. From what he’d read about the homicide investigation into the case of Lou Anne Wallace, about Joey’s brother’s kidnapping and her mother’s past drinking problem, her family was as dysfunctional as the McKinneys. But still, family ties ran thick and deep.
Was she here in an official capacity, or had she come because of her own secret agenda—to see that her mother and father weren’t arrested for the crimes?
Chapter Three
Cole finally dragged his butt into the shower at dawn. He hadn’t slept worth a flip for thinking about the investigation and wondering how his brothers would react to the sight of him. Not that he cared…
And then there had been the fantasies about a certain sexpot blonde that had plagued him all night long.
After their drink, he’d walked her to the inn where they both were staying. Adding more fuel to the flames of his imagination, he learned she was in the room right next door to him, so they’d shared an awkward but titillating moment in the hallway as they’d said good night. Awkward because he’d damn near forgotten his head and kissed her. Titillating because he’d sensed she’d wanted it as much as he had, and that she would have let him.
Then they would have ended up in bed for some mind-blowing sex—at least that’s where the kiss had led in his fertile fantasy—and he would have at least felt sated, if not rested.
Now he just felt irritable and restless.
Because nothing had happened.
He showered and managed to find a razor, wishing he’d had time for a haircut, then cursed himself for worrying about his appearance. He didn’t give a damn what his brothers thought—or anyone else in town.
Grimacing, he dressed in his normal Ranger wear: clean jeans, a white Western shirt, boots, belt and tie. Determined to prove he was a top-notch Ranger himself, he pinned on his badge and grabbed his Stetson and the folder of notes he had collected on the first investigation of Lou Anne Wallace’s murder sixteen years ago. Then he headed to that diner he’d seen last night, to pick up some breakfast before he met the McKinney brothers and the local deputies for a briefing. If he was here to track evidence in the woods, he needed food and coffee, and lots of it.
After all, he had a big advantage over his half brothers. He wasn’t personally attached to Jim McKinney or anyone else in town.
A BLOODCURDLING SCREAM pierced the air and forced thirteen-year-old Joey from her peaceful sleep.
Her mother.
She threw the covers aside, jumped up and ran to the door. But when she swung it open, a thick plume of smoke curled through the hallway. The scent of charred wood and fabric hit her. Oh God, the house was on fire!
Her father…no, daddy was at his house .
She had to get to her mother…but where was she?
And little Justin?
His room was downstairs next to her mother’s.
Joey ran through the fog of smoke, feeling for the banister to help guide her, coughing and choking as she made her way to the door of the nursery. Flames licked the walls in the kitchen and crawled along the floor in the den. The curtains erupted into a ball of fire and sparks flew from the ceiling. Wood crackled and popped, splintering as the table collapsed into flames.
Her mother was already awake, standing at the crib.
Joey’s eyes stung from the smoke. “We have to get out of here!”
Her mother spun around, eyes wild with terror, a crazed expression on her face. “Where’s my baby? What did you do with him? You were supposed to watch him for me!”
Joey’s heart pounded as she rushed forward to check the crib. Little Justin was not inside. Panic stabbed at her chest, robbing her of air. Where was her baby brother? Had he crawled out? Could he be somewhere in the house?
No, please no, the fire…it might have gotten him already. Or he might have inhaled too much smoke…
Her mother jerked her by her pajama shirt and shook her. “Where is he, Joey? Where’s my baby? What did you do with him?”
“Mom! I don’t know. Let me go.” She yanked her mother’s fingers away. “I’ll look for him.”
The