The Texas Ranger's Family

“In time I’ll find out who did this.”

She shivered as he pulled a paper from his back pocket and handed it to her. “This is what we call a rap sheet.”

Her fingers trembled as she opened it. Another cry resounded in the room as she saw the mug shot of the man she’d been married to. It was Rod, but a younger Rod with long black hair and a beard. The good-looking man she’d fallen in love with had short-cropped, dark blond hair and was clean-shaved.

Natalie looked down the list of his crimes that had earned him a sixty-year prison sentence. “Murder?” The knowledge that she’d been living with a hard-core criminal caused her to break out in a cold sweat. This was her precious Amy’s father?

Her hands went clammy.

Horrified, she dropped the paper and ran to the bathroom where she threw up. When there was nothing left, she rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth. To her shock she saw the Ranger waiting for her in the hall while she clung to the sink to recover.

“I wish there’d been an easier way to break this to you,” he murmured. “If you want to lie down, I understand.”

His kindness got to her. She let go of the sink. “I’d like to pretend none of this is real, but I know it is or you wouldn’t be here. No wonder the Texas Rangers are involved. Since I was in the process of divorcing him, I’m sure the police have already decided I killed him.”

She left the bathroom and walked to the living room on shaky legs.

“They have to look at a death from every angle.” His brows lifted. “Do you own a firearm?”

“No.”

“Did your husband?”

She took a steadying breath. “Not that I ever knew about.”

He eyed her speculatively through veiled eyes. “Why do you think the police would automatically assume you wanted him dead?”

“Because he’d been unfaithful to me. Now that I know the truth about him, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d been with different women throughout our marriage. This is unbelievable.” She couldn’t disguise the tremor in her voice. “When I had proof of his infidelity, I told him I was filing for divorce and asked him to leave the house.”

“How did he handle that?”

“He didn’t take me seriously until I warned him I’d call the police to put a restraining order on him. To my surprise he actually packed up and left. It almost seemed too easy, but it makes sense if he knew the FBI was hunting for him.”

The Ranger shifted his weight. “Mrs. Harris, the detective’s opinion of what happened was only speculation while he investigated your husband’s case. It was turned over to me too quickly for any conclusions to be drawn. I haven’t seen all the forensic evidence yet. Now that I’m in charge, I prefer to investigate the facts without bringing any bias from other sources. That’s why it was so important I spoke with you today. For the time being we’re going to keep any more information from being leaked to the press.”

“Thank you for that.”

“You’ve received a shock—you’re still pale. Sit down and I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.”

She pressed her lips together. “I imagine you could use some, too. Come into the kitchen. I’ll answer your questions while I make it. I need to stay busy.” Her suggestion coincided with the doorbell ringing.

“That’ll be the team. I’ll let them in.”

“They’ll need to check the garage, too.”

“I’ll tell them. I also want them to take your fingerprints. I hope that’s all right.”

He left her long enough to go to the door. Three people, two men and a woman, came in carrying equipment. They put on latex gloves and got to work. After meeting Natalie, one of the men took impressions of her fingers at the kitchen table while the other two checked the room for other prints.

When that was done they went about their business through the rest of the house, dusting surfaces and looking for evidence. The moment was surreal.

The Ranger stepped over several items on the floor to sit at the table. The high chair stood in the corner. She felt his gaze while she fixed coffee for them. “Where do you want to start?”

“Before we begin, you need to know I’ll be recording our conversation.”

Natalie nodded. “Do you take cream or sugar?”

“Both.”

So did she. She prepared two mugs and brought them to the table, sitting opposite him. After being sick to her stomach, the coffee tasted good, the sugar reviving her. He appeared to enjoy his, too, draining most of his mug before sitting back.

“Tell me about yourself first. I saw two women at the graveside service.”

“You were there?” she asked in disbelief.

“Watching from a distance. Were either of them your relatives?”

“No. I am an only child and my mother died several years ago. My parents divorced when I was twelve. My father had an affair and married the woman. They moved to his hometown in Canada. I never saw or heard from him again.”

“You’ve been through a lot of heartache in your life,” he observed with empathy. “Now, I’d like you to tell me about how you met your husband, and I’ll also need you to identify the people in these photos for me.” He handed her the camera and she blinked when she saw the display, astonished that he’d taken pictures at the cemetery. She swiped her finger across the screen, scrolling through the images before giving him back the camera.

She stared into space. “My husband and I met just over two and a half years ago. It was November. A controlled-substance delivery from LifeSpan Pharmaceutical didn’t check with the head pharmacist’s order. The shipment usually comes in a brown box with tamper-proof tape. When I saw that the wrong order had been delivered, I called the plant. Several conversations took place before a man in accounting came on the line. It was Rod.

“He said the problem would be taken care of. The next thing I knew he came to the pharmacy with the correct shipment.”

“Where do you work?”

“In the pharmacy at the Grand Central store on Spruce Street, about a mile from here.”

“How long have you been a pharmacist?”

“I received my degree seven years ago and I’ve been working there ever since. The head pharmacist, John Willard, and his wife, Marva, were two of the people at the service today.”

“Tell me about the other woman who was there. The older one.”

“Ellen Butterworth is a woman from the church who was good friends with my mother.”

“I see. All right, back to your story about Rod.”

“I thought it was unusual that someone from the accounting department would make the delivery instead of a courier, but Rod reminded me that we’d spoken on the phone once before about a separate issue. He told me he liked the sound of my voice and wondered what I was like, so he’d taken it upon himself to bring the package in person.”

“You’d never met him in person before?”

“No. But now that I know he was a criminal, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d seen me somewhere and found out about me ahead of time.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, either. Go on.”

“Rod came by several times after that and talked me into going out to lunch with him. I was flattered. He was very kind when I told him about my mother’s battle with MS. She’d only just died before he came into my life. I found him attractive and we started dating. I learned that he’d been in the military but had been released from service when he was wounded in the lower leg.”