The Texas Ranger's Family

“Don’t you worry about anything. There’s no hurry.”

“Yes, there is. You’ve gone beyond the call of duty to watch her on a Saturday afternoon. That wasn’t our arrangement. I plan to pay you double.”

“Natalie—don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been through a horrible experience. What are friends for?”

“You’re the best, Jillian. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

The second she hung up, Natalie’s landline rang, startling her. She moved to the kitchen to answer it but checked the caller ID first. It was blank. Would it be one of those hang-up calls she’d gotten twice this week already?

Natalie hated to answer without knowing who was on the other end, especially after this break-in, although it could be one of many important calls she was expecting—the police, the bank, the attorney, the mortuary, her boss at work, her coworkers, church friends, her insurance agent. But right now she was in no state to talk to anyone and let it ring until the person on the other end gave up or left a message.

She looked around but couldn’t tell if anything was missing. She’d developed a bad headache and needed a pain pill.

One look in the bathroom mirror made her realize she needed to freshen up before the Ranger arrived and she washed her face, remembering too late that she wasn’t supposed to touch anything. The burial plot in the newer section of the cemetery hadn’t been planted with shade trees yet. The heat had caused her to break out in perspiration, but she didn’t have time to change out of her lightweight linen suit.

After drying her face, Natalie refreshed her lipstick and gave her tousled, collarbone-length hair a good brushing. When she heard the knock on the back door, her brush fell to the floor. Her nerves were that bad.

She walked down the hall, past the nursery and into the kitchen. She used a dish towel to open the door leading to the backyard. Whatever picture of the Ranger she’d had in her mind didn’t come close to the sight of the tall, thirtyish, hard-muscled male in a Western shirt, jeans and cowboy boots.

Her gaze flitted over his dark brown hair only to collide with his beautiful hazel eyes appraising her through a dark fringe of lashes.

“Mrs. Harris? Miles Saunders.” She felt the stranger’s probing look pierce her before he displayed his credentials. That’s when she noticed the star on his shirt pocket.

This man is the real thing. The stuff that made the Texas Rangers legendary. She had the strange feeling that she’d seen him somewhere before, but shrugged it off. This was definitely the first time she’d ever met a Ranger.

“Come in.” Her voice faltered, mystified by this unexpected visit. She was pretty sure the Rangers didn’t investigate a home break-in.

“Thank you.” He took a few steps on those long, powerful legs. His presence dominated the kitchen. She invited him to follow her into the living room.

“Please sit down.” She indicated the upholstered chair on the other side of the coffee table while she took the matching chair. There was no place else to sit until the room was put back together.

He did as she asked. “I understand you have a daughter. Is she here?”

The man already knew quite a bit about her, she realized. “No. I left her with my sitter who lives across the street.”

He studied one of the framed photos that hadn’t been knocked off the end table, even though a drawer had been pulled out. “She looks a lot like you, especially the eyes. She’s a little beauty.”

Natalie looked quickly at the floor, stunned by the personal comment. He’d sounded sincere. So far everything about him surprised her so much she couldn’t think clearly.

He turned to focus his attention on Natalie. “You’re very composed for someone who’s been through so much. Your husband’s funeral was just this afternoon, wasn’t it?”

“I’m trying to hold it together. If you’d taken any longer to get here, you might have found a screaming lunatic on your hands.” She was nervous and talking too fast, but she couldn’t help it. “Why would the Texas Rangers want to talk to me? I already answered the detective’s questions after they found my husband’s body at the hotel. It’s hard for me to believe he took his own life, but even more difficult to believe anyone would have wanted to kill him.”

“Why do you think it wasn’t a suicide?”

Averting her eyes she said, “In my opinion he was too selfish to do it. That’s what I told the police. Now I’ve probably shocked you.”

“Not at all. Tell me something. Was your husband right-or left-handed?”

“Left.”

“The report said the gun was found in his left hand, but the angle of the bullet raises some questions. Your answer convinces me the gunshot wasn’t self-inflicted.”

She sat back in the chair. “So someone killed him? Am I a suspect?”

“If this weren’t crucial, I wouldn’t have insisted on talking to you today. I’ll explain, but we’re going to need some time, unless you want me to come back this evening.”

“No, no.” Might as well get this over with. “I’ll call my sitter and prepare her for a longer wait. Excuse me.” Natalie got up from the chair and hurried into the kitchen to call her friend on her cell phone.

“Don’t hate me for this, Jillian, but the Ranger is here now and it sounds like this is going to take a while longer.”

“You poor thing.”

“It’s all a little scary. Would you mind keeping Amy? I hate to do this to you, but he’s made it sound like it’s really important.”

“The girls are playing in the toy room and having a great time. Don’t worry about us. I’ll give them both dinner. You take your time.”

“Bless you, Jillian.”

She hung up and rushed back to the living room.

The Ranger eyed her directly. “I know you’re full of questions, so I’ll get to the point. Your husband’s death was a homicide. But that’s not the whole of it.”

She knit her hands together. “What do you mean?”

“The police stumbled onto some information that has resulted in the case being handled by the Texas Rangers. My captain has assigned it to me. That’s why the detective informed me of your phone call instead of following through himself.”

“I still don’t understand.” Something told her she wasn’t going to like what he told her.

His expression sobered. “Your husband wasn’t the man he claimed to be.”

Her adrenaline surged. “What do you mean exactly?”

“I wish there was a way to soften the blow for you. The man you knew as Rodney Parker Harris was actually born Harold Bartlett Park. He was born and raised in Denver, Colorado.”

She felt as if her lungs froze while the revelation sank in. “Surely you’re mistaken!”

“DNA doesn’t lie. His grandparents raised him after his parents were killed in a car crash when he was seven, but they couldn’t control him. In his teens he ran away and got into serious trouble. In time he used various aliases and committed crimes that put him in prison for a sixty-year sentence.”

“Sixty?” Her cry resounded in the room.

“That’s right. He’d only served two of them when he escaped eight years ago during a prisoner transfer to another facility. He eventually ended up here in Austin. There’s been an arrest warrant out on him for years.”

A gasp escaped her lips. She sprang to her feet. “You’re telling me that I was married to a felon?”

His eyes looked at her with compassion. “I’m afraid so. You’re welcome to see the DNA test results. They prove he’s the same man who’d been on his way to another prison when he made his escape with a fellow inmate. That killer is still at large.”

Fear raced through her as her thoughts leaped ahead. “Do you think he’s the one who broke in here?”