Lone Star Standoff. Margaret Daley
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shoulder against the doorjamb with her arms crossed, she watched her four-year-olds do the best job they could. When they finished, she stepped to the side. “Put on some dry clothes, then bring the wet ones back here and place them in the tub, too.”
Heads down, the twins left the bathroom.
After they disappeared into their bedrooms, she completed the cleanup, then headed back to the kitchen.
“What happened?” Her mama brought the casserole dish to the table and set it down on a hot pad.
“The usual. No doubt the water fight started out innocently but quickly morphed into an all-out battle. They’re changing clothes.” A moment later Sammy came into the room with a ragged T-shirt on backward. She refrained from saying anything, but the sight of what he was wearing reminded her of what she’d done at lunch today. She snatched up her keys and headed for the door to the garage in the utility room. “I forgot something in the trunk of my car.”
When she stepped into the garage, a faint rotting odor wafted to her. She neared the large trashcan and lifted the top. It was empty because the garbage had been picked up earlier that day. But as she neared the rear of her car, the smell grew stronger. She clicked the car trunk’s button on her key fob, and the lid popped up. The nauseating scent engulfed her. She looked down at a large, dead brown rat lying next to a shopping bag from the store she’d visited at lunchtime.
She froze. The dead rat definitely hadn’t been there earlier today. Rats and snakes were her two fears. How did it get into her trunk? When was it put there? And why?
Fear blanketed her as she thought of her current trial—a top drug cartel lieutenant faced a first-degree murder charge.
* * *
Texas Ranger Sean McNair entered his house and tossed his car keys into a bowl in his kitchen near the door to the garage. Another shipment of drugs had slipped through his fingers today. He felt it in his gut. His tip hadn’t paid off. He was too late to stop the drugs from coming into the United States, and his recent suspicions about the Port Bliss Police Department had been confirmed. Someone had warned the Coastal Cartel about the raid.
He made his way to his deck overlooking the water between the Texas mainland and South Padre Island. Gripping the railing, he leaned against it, relishing the cool, late-spring breeze laced with the scent of the sea that always calmed his frustration. A seagull flew over Sean’s home, heading for the island.
Frustration churned his stomach. He was one of three people covering a large area of the southernmost tip of the state. Everything pointed to a cartel thug murdering the Texas Ranger before him, but he had no concrete evidence to prove the case. The fallen Texas Ranger had a wife and two babies—who were left without a father. He hadn’t known Samuel Madison other than by his reputation of being a good law enforcement officer. When Sean had been moved to Company D to replace the slain fellow officer, he’d met the man’s wife. The look of despair in her dark brown eyes still haunted him, even after two years.
He’d asked to be transferred, especially with the Coastal Cartel firming its base of operation in the area over the past few years. Someone in the cartel was responsible for his brother’s disappearance. In his gut, he knew that Jack was dead. But he and his family needed closure on what had happened to him.
Sean had slowly been digging into the organization to finally bring it down. It wouldn’t return his younger brother, but if he could destroy it, the cartel henchman wouldn’t be able to tear apart another family like his had been. His mother had never recovered from Jack’s tailspin into the drug world that ultimately killed him. There had been nothing he could do to stop his little brother. Jack had been living in Port Bliss for the past four years while Sean had been a Texas Highway Patrol officer clear across the state in Amarillo, where they had grown up.
Sean took a deep, cleansing breath of the sea-laced air, closing his eyes as he tried to forget the description of Jack’s apartment two years ago when he went missing. Blood everywhere but no body.
The sound of his cell phone’s ringtone intruded into his thoughts. He started to ignore it, then with a glance at the screen, he changed his mind and quickly answered. “Hello. Is something wrong?” He’d told Aubrey Madison to call him if she ever needed his help, because her husband’s killer had never been brought in, either. This was the first time she had.
“There may be a problem.”
“May?”
“Someone left a dead rat in the trunk of my car, and I think it could be connected to the trial I’m currently the judge on.”
A rat was often left at a scene where the cartel went after someone. There had been one in Jack’s apartment. “Bento Villa’s trial?”
“Yes.” Aubrey’s voice quavered, reminding him of the times he’d interviewed her about her husband and had worked with her to find the killer. They had both being grieving at that time, although he’d never told her about Jack’s case. He’d even wondered if his brother’s disappearance had been connected to her husband’s death somehow. The incidents were days apart. “Have you called the police?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Even if I have to break a few speeding laws. “Leave the rat where it is. Go inside and lock the doors until I get there. Do you have a gun and know how to use it?” Sean entered his house and snatched up his keys.
“Yes, it was my husband’s.”
“Good. Get it just in case.” With what he’d seen working this area over the past two years, a dead rat was not only used as a symbol of the cartel but also to send a message they would always follow up. Suddenly a question popped into Sean’s mind: Was the dead rat a warning to the judge that the cartel was coming after her?
“Okay. Thank you.” The judge disconnected their call.
He stuffed his phone into his pocket and left his bungalow. As the sun disappeared totally below the horizon, he sped as fast as he could toward her house in the next town.
* * *
Aubrey slammed the trunk down, her stomach roiling as the rotting odor grew worse by the minute. She hurried into the house and went immediately to the safe for the revolver she’d kept more as a memory of her husband than in the expectation she would ever use it, even though she knew how to fire a gun and keep it serviceable. But she had her children and mother to think about and protect. She hid the weapon in the big pocket of a bulky sweater she donned.
She returned to the kitchen, where her mother sat at the table with Camy and Sammy, waiting for her. Mama glanced at her bulging sweater pocket and furrowed her brows. She started to say something, but Aubrey quickly shook her head. She sat, but didn’t know if she could eat much. Her nausea persisted while her heartbeat raced. She couldn’t get it out of her mind that the rat was a warning.
“Let’s bless the food,” Aubrey said. “Sammy, it’s your turn.”
Her son joined hands with her and his sister, then bowed his head. “Thanks for the food and my madre and abuela.” He looked up then hurriedly added, “And Camy.”
Aubrey smiled at the Spanish words her son loved to throw in. Her mother was working with the twins to teach them her family’s language as well as English.
Her daughter turned her head so fast her long black ponytail swung around. “I cleaned up more than Sammy.”
“No, you dinna.”
Aubrey gave each twin a long stare, then replied, “What’s the rule when we’re eating?”
“No fighting,” they both said.
Aubrey ignored Camy sticking out her tongue at Sammy and instead stared at the food on her plate, wondering how she was going to eat it all. She checked her watch. The Texas Ranger who’d taken her husband’s place should be here soon. How was she going to keep her worries from affecting her children? She’d been