Ambushed at Christmas Read online

  She’d overheard a fellow officer refer to her as Cold-Fish Cordon when she’d walked past the men’s locker room. Charles had laughed, not defended her.

  And that was just the beginning of the cold-shoulder treatment she’d been getting from him ever since.

  “Any other reason you’re out here tonight, Kevin?” she asked.

  “Other than my nightly run? No,” he said with a quizzical look.

  A good investigator asked every question, and especially the ones she thought she knew the answers to. Because every once in a while a witness answered wrong and gave her the leverage she needed to keep digging.

  Chapter Three

  Kevin Lee was innocent. All Leah had needed was five minutes to assess his guilt or innocence. Her years of experience had honed her instincts. As much as she trusted them, she never took them for granted. But the man was as clean as Sunday’s sheets on a freshly made bed.

  An officer had arrived, followed shortly after by paramedics. The scene bustled with activity. Between the detour with Deacon Kent and the injured jogger, it was getting late. Leah checked her watch. She should’ve been home fifteen minutes ago to relieve her sitter. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem but tensions were running high.

  “Excuse me, I need to make a phone call,” she said to Deacon.

  “Someone expecting you at home?” he asked. An emotion flickered behind his gray-blue eyes that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

  “Sort of,” she admitted for reasons she had yet to pick apart. The question had caught her off guard. She walked out of earshot in order to make the call to her babysitter.

  Riley answered on the first ring. The soft hum of the TV that was on in the background comforted Leah.

  “Everything okay?” Riley immediately asked. Her next-door neighbor was great about coming over after Connor had gone to sleep so that Leah could get in her run. Leah would miss that next fall when Riley left for college.

  “I’m giving a statement to police right now about a jogger being hurt on the trail,” Leah informed her.

  “Another one?” Riley’s tone was ominous. Her voice dropped as she asked, “Are you okay?”

  “This was an accident. It’s not related,” Leah said quickly. Too quickly.

  “Oh.” Riley must’ve picked up on it. Everyone’s nerves were on edge following the attack.

  “How’s Connor?” Leah wanted an update on her son but she also wanted to redirect Riley.

  “Hasn’t budged an inch since I got here,” Riley reported. “In fact, he hasn’t made a peep but I checked on him fifteen minutes ago, anyway.”

  “His preschool teacher said they spent a lot of time outdoors today and that the class should sleep well tonight.” Leah couldn’t remember what a good night’s sleep was anymore. To sleep like an innocent child again. What would that be like?

  Either way, Leah was grateful for her high school neighbor, who was close to the back half of her senior year. Riley’s job was basically to make sure Connor didn’t wake or need anything. The high schooler brought her laptop computer and Leah figured had knocked out most of her college applications while sitting on her couch. It was mutually beneficial because Riley complained about her brothers, twins, who were star football players on the middle school team. She said there wasn’t a safe place in the house with those two running, shouting and throwing the ball just about everywhere. There were always a few of their friends on hand, and since Riley’s room was directly across the hall from the twins’, she couldn’t get a minute of peace.

  Since Leah offered money, going to her house was certainly cheaper than going to a coffeehouse and dropping five bucks on a latte every time she wanted to use the free Wi-Fi.

  The arrangement worked out well for both of them. Since Leah didn’t get off work until six o’clock most nights, she barely had a pair of hours to spend with Connor before his bedtime. Rather than sit inside the house and stare at four walls after he was tucked into bed, Leah had made the proposition to Riley a year ago and the arrangement seemed to be working out for them both.

  “I should be home soon,” Leah promised.

  “Take your time. Seriously. I have nowhere else to go but home.” Leah almost smiled because she could practically hear Riley rolling her eyes.

  Leah couldn’t feel guilty about being later than usual with an attitude like that. Her place was a refuge for Riley and Leah didn’t mind helping out the girl. Riley seemed to think it was cute that strangers thought they were sisters and had mentioned more than once that she wished it were true.

  “I won’t be too late,” Leah promised. She wasn’t ready to leave the scene just yet. She needed to remind the handsome rancher that he had no business digging around a crime scene and that he could end up a suspect if he refused to listen to her.

  She figured that would go over about as well as whipped cream on a taco.

  * * *

  “TELL ME MORE about the case,” Deacon said to the detective once the jogger had been carried away by the paramedics, Kevin Lee’s statement had been given and the scene had quieted down.

  The detective shot him a look that left no question as to what she thought about his request. “I can’t.”

  “I’m not telling you to give away your family’s barbecue recipe. I’d like to know who I’m looking for, if you have a description of the suspect. It’ll help us on the ranch as we guard our herd and we might actually be of some help if he returns,” Deacon said. He could ask the same information from his cousin Zach, but the detective might have an inside track.

  “We don’t have one,” she admitted. “And I’m not the lead on this case, so I have no authority whatsoever to dig deeper. All we’re doing that I know of is watching the trail and pretty much everywhere else for another attack.”

  “There were no witnesses and you have no leads,” he summarized.

  “Just like the newspaper said,” she stated.

  “Excuse me if I don’t believe everything I read,” he countered.

  “Your cousin. He’s the sheriff, right?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Deacon wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

  “Explains why you know how to conduct yourself during an investigation.” She locked on to his gaze and he ignored the power that one look held. He also saw a repeat of that split-second vulnerability that got all his protective instincts fired up. A glance at her finger had said she didn’t wear a wedding band. But that call home had thrown him off balance at first until he heard bits and pieces of her conversation. “Also tells me that you won’t mind me reminding you that I’m not privileged to share information with you. Even if I had access to it, which I don’t.”

  There were ways to get around that but he didn’t want to push her.

  “Want to grab a cup of coffee?” he asked, noticing she’d started shivering. The temperature had dropped another ten degrees. He could feel it through his jacket. Christmas was around the corner, so there was no shock that the weather had turned.

  “No, thank you.” Her words were curt. “But I will share another piece of advice if you don’t mind.”

  “Be my guest.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “If you go crawling around a crime scene, you might just leave your DNA for someone to discover and end up on the wrong side here. Why not leave this to law enforcement.”

  “My cousin has no authority in Fort Worth. I have no idea if these cases are connected but have every intention of finding out before any more of my cattle suffer and heaven forbid another person if that’s what’s happening here. I’ll give you that I acted on impulse coming here. Doesn’t mean I regret my actions and especially not if I can help in any way.” Getting away from the ranch for a few hours had proven to be the distraction he needed. While his brothers seemed to have settled into their birthright, Deacon still wasn’t comfortable. He’d been
restless since losing his parents and leaving his small but thriving Dallas-based custom millwork company. He’d sold the business to his partner not without regret.

  Leah examined him and he noticed that her eyes darkened when she skimmed his torso.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t act on impulse next time.” She pointed her finger at his chest.

  “What are you not telling me?” The detective was holding back. He couldn’t say he was surprised given the circumstances. The statement caught her off guard enough for him to know he’d hit the nail on the head.

  Leah’s cell buzzed. She checked the screen and Deacon caught the breath she blew out.

  “Cordon here,” she said into the phone and he realized the caller couldn’t be the sitter who waited for her at home. The stab of jealousy said he feared it was a romantic interest. She turned around to face the opposite direction to take the call.

  “That’s great news, sir,” she said quietly. “Thank you,” she added before ending the call and turning around to face Deacon.

  “That wasn’t home calling,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Nope,” she reported. “Killer’s been arrested. We can all go home.”

  * * *

  LEAH STARED AT her bedroom ceiling. A light streamed in from the window, enabling her to see clearly. A cursory glance at the clock said the sun wouldn’t be up for three hours. A pair of hours after that and Connor would be awake and ready to go full tilt, as only three-year-olds knew how to do. So why was she still awake, thinking about the Porter’s Bend Killer, when she should have been deep in REM sleep by now?

  The killer was in jail. Details of his murder would be out soon enough. Maybe she could go in to work early and stop off at the coroner’s office on the way in. Connor’s preschool opened at 6:00 a.m. and she’d had to take advantage of the extra hours for cases from time to time. The director, Mrs. Clark, wouldn’t be shocked if Leah showed up with Connor on short notice. The arrangement at Marymount Day School had worked well so far.

  Another urge struck.

  The impulse to call Deacon Kent and discuss the case was strong.

  An unsettled feeling crept over her. If this case was wrapped up, why was she wide-awake in the middle of the night, staring at the rain spot on the ceiling? The perp behind bars had a rap sheet long enough to make his arrest feasible.

  Leah reminded herself that this case was too close to home. She was losing her objectivity. A murder had occurred on her jogging path, the trail she took every night before bed in order to clear her head. She bit back the irony that she was a detective and couldn’t keep her own trail safe.

  How many times had Leah and Jillian Mitchell possibly looked up and nodded while passing each other without really giving each other much thought? Dozens? More?

  No good could come out of digging around in her ex’s case. Leah should have been able to let this go and walk away, sleep easy. And she would do just that.

  She would close the book on this one as soon as she called Deacon Kent.

  Chapter Four

  Deacon rolled onto his side and stared at the clock. It read 3:43 a.m. Most of his family would be up in the next half hour, as well as his cousin Zach, the Broward County Sheriff.

  The same couple of questions recycled. Could the trail murderer be the same man they’d been looking for in Jacobstown? Most people by now believed that the man responsible for the brutal killings of half a dozen heifers and even more small animals in various ranches across the state would move on to human targets. It made even more sense that the man would go after a woman, considering all the animal deaths reported so far had been females.

  Folks in Jacobstown were jumpy and rightfully so. People started locking their doors, an act so foreign it seemed strange even to him to have to think about. People who used to leave cars running when they ran inside the post office to pick up mail from a PO box had changed habits. Everyone had buttoned up in the wake of the incidents.

  Anyone new was suspect now instead of welcomed like in the past. The town had a long tradition of being family friendly but times had changed. People had changed. And fear—a foreign emotion—gripped the townsfolk.

  Deacon thought about the detective from earlier. She’d put up a brave front but he’d seen the panic in her eyes. Leah Cordon lingering in his mind was as productive as pouring milk over asparagus.

  Deacon sat up, rubbed his eyes and threw his feet over the side of the bed. Since sleep was out of the question, he might as well get up and do something industrious. His brothers and the ranch hands would be awake soon and he wanted to deliver the news personally that the Fort Worth Police had arrested the person responsible for the attack at Porter’s Bend. If there was any possible link between this guy and the person responsible for butchering animals on the family land, everyone would want to know about it.

  Deacon’s thoughts again wandered into territory he knew better than to go—Leah Cordon.

  He’d moved into his bungalow-style house on the ranch six months ago, the day after it had finished being built. Living here was convenient and he appreciated having his own space. He’d always been that kid who kept to the sidelines and did his own thing. Not much had changed since becoming a man. He’d probably laugh if someone described him as the strong, silent type but he couldn’t argue.

  Having his own place gave him breathing room, even though he didn’t feel like he fit the rancher’s life. His older brother, Mitch, had taken to it like a fisherman to a pond. The baby of the family, Amber, followed in their eldest brother’s footsteps. But he and his three other brothers, Will, Nate and Jordan, fell somewhere in the cracks. Don’t get him wrong, he loved Texas and the family business. Being out on the range and sleeping under the stars kept him sane. It was the rest—the part where his entire life was planned out before him—that made his collar feel like a noose.

  The ringtone of his cell caught him off guard. He hopped into his jeans and got to his phone that was vibrating on his dresser.

  Leah Cordon’s name was on the screen.

  “What’s up, Detective?” Deacon asked.

  “Sorry to wake you.” She sounded like she’d had a shot of espresso.

  “I haven’t slept.” Deacon sat on the edge of the chair next to his dresser, thinking he wouldn’t mind a cup of black coffee. He raked his free hand through his hair.

  “What’s keeping you awake?” Her voice had a sexy ring to it, a campfire-and-moonlight-under-the-stars quality. And that was something he had no place noticing given the nature of their friendship—a word he’d use lightly to describe their liaison.

  “Most likely the same reason your eyes are still open.” The line went quiet for a second and he wondered if she were debating whether or not it had been a good idea to call him.

  “I’m heading over to the coroner’s office in a little while to see the body,” she finally said. “Something feels off.”

  “What do you think you’ll find there?” His curiosity was piqued.

  “Not sure yet,” she admitted.

  “But you think it’s worth it to make the drive over.” He was stating the obvious but it didn’t hurt to make sure they were on the same page. He’d learned a long time ago not to assume he knew what anyone else was thinking.

  She agreed that she did. Another few beats of silence permeated the line. Then came, “Your heifers. They suffered, didn’t they?”

  “Yes.” He let his tone reflect his frustration.

  “You mentioned smaller animals, too,” she continued.

  “There’ve been rabbits.” He switched hands with the phone and put it to his left ear.

  “No weapons were ever recovered.” It was a statement of fact, not a question.

  “And no DNA was left behind,” he added. “What are you getting at?”

  “In your best guess, what kind of weapon was used?” Her voice had a qu
iet calm and he assumed it was the one she used to get people to confide in her. He would’ve anyway because he didn’t have anything to hide.

  “A jigsaw,” he said.

  The line was dead quiet for several beats and he could tell the wheels in her mind were spinning. “I thought that’s what I read. This guy made a clean cut.” She paused a few more beats before adding, “I’m sorry about your animals.”

  “Are you still going to the coroner’s office?” he asked.

  “I am,” she confirmed.

  “Mind if I show up? I’d like to get a look for myself and your badge will get me through the door.” He could get to Fort Worth in about an hour. Judging her reactions so far, she didn’t believe the man sitting in jail had committed the crime.

  “I have no authority in this investigation,” she said quietly. The killer had murdered someone on her trail. Based on the description of Jillian Mitchell, the two looked similar. Did the detective think it could’ve easily been her, instead? He understood when a crime hit a little too close to home. He knew the fear that could instill in people.

  “I might be able to help with that.” With Deacon’s family name he could probably call in a few favors and get a private visit with the body of the victim without rattling too many cages. But he hoped the detective would take him with her. All she had to do was flash her badge and he wouldn’t have to have his name tied to the investigation.

  “You know what, I made a mistake calling. Forget what I said. I’m sorry to bother you. I should go.” What had happened in the last few seconds to change her mind? Was it the fact that he’d used the Kent last name? That normally opened doors instead of closing them. Of course, she might not want to be associated with anyone who was high profile. That could draw attention to her.