Twelve years. A cold chill oozed through her body freezing away any traces of annoyance. Some secrets, no matter how painful, had to stay buried. Now more than ever. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He faced her, his smile sad and almost soothing. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jennifer.” An edge had crept into his voice. “You need to release the secret.”
“I don’t have a secret.”
“Yes, you do. And before this night is over, Jennifer, your soul will be cleansed just as you’d dreamed of it being for years.”
Chapter Eighteen
Monday, June 9, 7 A.M.
The day’s heat had already kicked in when Bragg arrived at the murder scene a half hour after receiving the call from Winchester. Jennifer Bell had been found in her car, unconscious. The paramedics had removed her from the car, opened her airway, and begun CPR, but despite a frantic dash to the hospital, the doctors had pronounced her dead fifteen minutes ago.
Lights flashing, the area around the car had been roped off, but a growing number of curiosity seekers now stared at the technicians as they photographed Jennifer Bell’s car.
The area was on a residential side street near the entrance to Northwest Park. It was going to be a pretty day with milder temperatures and soon this area would be teeming with folks out to enjoy a Monday morning jog.
Bragg settled his hat on his head as he moved toward the crime-scene tape billowing in a soft breeze. He was clean shaven, his hair still wet from the shower. “What do we have?”
Winchester tore his gaze from the empty car. “She somehow managed a call to paramedics an hour and a half ago. She wasn’t able to speak, but they traced the GPS on her phone.”
He pulled plastic gloves from his pocket and put them on. “Did she say anything else to the nine-one-one operator?”
“She didn’t say a word. The operator asked her a bunch of questions but she didn’t answer.”
He glanced past Winchester to the car. The door was open and the ground around it littered with the paramedic’s discarded wrappers. “Are we sure she placed the call?”
Winchester shrugged. “All I can say for sure is the call was placed from her phone in this location.”
Frustration snaked up his back and curled around his shoulders. His first thought was for Greer. He reached for his cell and dialed. The phone rang twice before she said, “Greer Templeton.”
“Greer. Tec Bragg.”
A heavy silence followed. “What can I do for you?”
He turned from Winchester and the other cops and stared off toward the wooded park. “Where are you now?”
“At Bonneville. I’m getting into my truck and headed into the fields with Mitch as soon as he waters the horses.”
Relief corralled his anxiety. She was on her property. Safe. And Mitch was with her. “Do you have time to meet later today?”
She dropped her voice. “What’s this about?”
Around him cop-car lights flashed. Media gathered. “Not over the phone.”
A heavy hesitation sizzled over the line. “Sure. I’ll be on the property until two.”
“Where are you going at two?”
“Austin. Is there a problem?”
He didn’t want to tell her about Jennifer like this. “Just need a few details clarified.”
“Sure.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why are you coming into the city?”
She paused. “I’m going to Rory’s funeral. It’s today.”
He frowned, his mind targeting all that could go wrong at the funeral. “Is that such a good idea?”
“Doubtful. But I’m going.”
“Greer, think about this. David Edwards is only going to cause you trouble.”
“I’m just going to pay my respects. I’ll keep my distance.”
He considered all the logical reasons she shouldn’t go and sensed he could lay them all out and she’d still do as she pleased. He checked his watch. “The funeral is at three?”
“Yes. The Catholic church in West Lake Hills.”
He catalogued the information. “I’ll meet you there.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s as good a place as any. We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
“Stay close to Mitch. He can look out for you.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
“Don’t mean to.” It took effort to soften his voice.
“Okay. See you then.”
He closed the phone and stuck it back in his belt cradle.
Winchester studied him. “What was that ab
out?”
“Checking in with Greer.”
A small smile tweaked the edge of Winchester’s lips. “You wanted to make sure she was okay?”
No sense denying it. “Yes.”
Winchester studied him closely. “That’s not like you. In fact, I don’t remember you ever taking such a personal interest in a person associated with a case.”
He shrugged. “I am now.”
“Why? And don’t give me a story about it being about the case. I sang that song enough when Jo was in danger last year.”
Bragg squared his shoulders. “It’s about the case.”
“It’s about her.” Winchester shook his head. “Don’t bullshit me or yourself.”
Bragg shifted his stance. “What is this, like our special girl-sharing time?”
Winchester laughed. “You care about the woman.”
Bragg considered a rebuttal and then squashed it. The truth wasn’t as hard to swallow as he’d thought. He cared about Greer. “I hardly know the woman.”
Winchester chuckled. “Doesn’t take a lot of facts or time to form an attraction. She’s a good-looking woman and looks like she could go up against you and not break a sweat.”
“She’s a tough gal.”
“Men like us need strong, independent women. Not easy being with a Ranger. Shit, danger aside, we work ungodly hours. Jo gets that. And Greer would, too.”
“Last I checked you had her figured for a suspect.”
Winchester shrugged. “I might be amending my opinion.”
“Why?”
“For one the analysis on the tire tracks at Rory’s crime scene came back. They don’t match any of Greer’s vehicles. And I got the analysis surveillance tapes from area hardware stores about an hour ago. We targeted stores selling generators. All were men.”
“Any positive ID?”
“No. But none were Greer.”
He didn’t need confirmation on Greer’s innocence, but having evidence would help her avoid any undue scrutiny from the law later.
Bragg rested his hands on his hips as he surveyed the crowd. His feelings for Greer ran deeper than attraction. But the last damn thing he was going to do was discuss this with Winchester or anyone other than Greer.