The Seventh Victim (Texas Rangers 1)

Beck stood just inches from her, so close he could smell the mingling of her scent with her soap. Another loose strand hung over her eyes and he wanted so much to brush it back. Instead, he released her hand and stepped back. “The difference between Raines and me is that I am going to catch this guy.”

Beck arrived at the medical examiner’s office just after grabbing a quick sandwich. Santos stood by the table watching as the doctor made his external examination. “Sorry I’m late.”

Santos looked up. “How is Henry?”

“Hanging tough, but he’s going to have to watch it for a while.”

“Steve there?”

“I left word with him.”

“Good.” Santos drew in a breath. “I called the hospital, and because I’m not family I wasn’t allowed to visit.” Sadness drifted behind the words.

“Go any time. And if they give you shit, call me.” He hesitated. “Visits should be made sooner than later.”

Santos frowned. “Got it.”

“He’ll like the visit.” Beck took a deep breath, and as he released it, he brushed his personal problems into a box and locked it up tight. Later when he had time to worry and fuss he would, but for now it was all about the case. “What have you found so far?”

The doctor peered through clear goggles. “I was just inspecting the dress and noting it is different than the others.”

“How?”

“Style is simpler. Less lace. No trim.”

“I was thinking about the dresses,” Santos said. “What if we lined the dresses up and had my aunt look at them?”

“Your aunt?”

“She’s a seamstress. Made all the costumes for a lot of the bands and singers in town. She can tell a lot about the way a person sews.”

“It’s worth a try. Set it up.”

The doctor carefully undressed the body and placed the dress in a paper bag. “There are no signs of external trauma,” he said. “Except, of course, for the bruising around the neck.”

“The second and third victims did show bruising.”

“Especially around the ankles and wrists. Not this one.” He continued his external exam. When he began the vaginal exam, both Beck and Santos shifted uncomfortably.

“She wasn’t raped,” the doctor said.

“You’re sure?” Beck said.

“I’d say it’s been awhile since she had intercourse.”

“Why did he change his pattern?” Beck said.

“The level of violence with men like this usually escalates,” Santos said. “Chasing the thrill requires more and more violence to achieve an adrenaline fix.”

“So why scale back?” Santos said.

Tension clawed at the back of Beck’s head. “Hell if I know.”

Chapter 19

Friday, June 1, 11 AM

Collecting final portfolios and assisting with the student art show did not give Lara the luxury of hiding at home, so she’d risen early, walked Lincoln, and then the two of them had gone to the art department to assemble the works for the show. She’d called Danni several times, left messages, but had yet to speak to the girl. She thought about driving by the girl’s house, but decided against it. The kid had missed one optional lab. That was it. And kids skipped classes all the time.

“Transference,” Lara muttered as she stood on a chair in the gallery, hanging a watercolor. She’d been around enough psychologists to know that transference was about redirecting her own fears and worries onto someone else. It was easier to worry over Danni’s imaginary problems than her own extremely real ones.

The cell tucked in her back pocket rang. Irritated by the interruption, she finished centering the image before climbing down and checking the caller ID. It was Jonathan.

Brushing off her irritation, she smiled at Lincoln, who looked up at her mildly curious, and raised the phone to her ear. “Jonathan.”

“I keep thinking I’ll run into you at the gallery or school, but you’re not frequenting your regular haunts.”

“Crunch time,” she said, cradling the phone under her ear as she straightened a picture.

“I was hoping to take you to lunch.”

She studied the photo with a critical eye one last time and then stepped back. “What time is it?”

“It’s eleven thirty.”

“That late? I could have sworn I just ate breakfast.”

His chuckle rumbled through the phone. “You were like that when you lived in Seattle and worked for that designer. Always forgetting to eat. Always running behind. Sounds like you’ve finally come back to your old self.”

Awareness jostled through Lara’s mind. “Despite it all, I guess I have.”

“You’re not afraid.”

“I’m cautious, but I’m not going to stop living my life.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. So does this mean I can pick you up and take you to lunch?”

Her stomach rumbled. “I’ve got Lincoln and the student art show, so I’ll just grab a bite quick here at the school. Rain check?”

“Sounds like a pack of nabs and a Diet Coke.”

She turned and inspected a raku-glazed pot and a watercolor, both done by senior art students. “I’ve lived on both for long stretches.”

“Lara, take an hour and eat a real meal. Stop and smell the roses.”

She chuckled, and her stomach rumbled again. “Okay, fine. Sure. What time?”

“Why don’t we make it twelve noon? I’ll pick you up at the school.”

“How about one and I meet you? It’ll be easier with Lincoln.”

He hesitated. “Sure. I thought I’d grill at my house. That would give Lincoln a chance to run around outside.”

They agreed to meet in an hour and a half, and she rang off, tucked her phone in her back pocket. She was just climbing down from the ladder when she heard footsteps behind her. A low growl rumbled in Lincoln’s throat. Half expecting Beck, she turned with a slight smile on her face.

Instead of Beck she found Raines standing behind her.

“The exhibit looks nice.” He held out his hand to the dog and let him sniff, and when Lincoln’s hackles eased, he moved toward a black-and-white still of a thundercloud. “I’ll bet Danni took this picture.”

Mention of the girl’s name was unexpected and jarring. “How do you know Danni?”

“She waitresses at the River Diner. I’m a creature of habit, and I see her a lot. We struck up a few conversations, and she told me about her work. Is that hers?”

“Yes.”

“She’s good.”

Lara folded her arms over her chest. “Yes. I hope she sticks with it.”

“Me too. The kid deserves better than she’s gotten.”

Lara had sensed the darkness in Danni, so much like her own, but had never pried into her private life. “Is she okay? She uploaded her work, but I haven’t seen her in a couple of days.”

He nodded, keeping his gaze on Danni’s photo. “She is.”

Lara brushed a stray curl from her face. “What’s going on with her?”

“Trouble at home. But she’s settled now.”

“You know a lot about her.” He was a detail man who missed little.

“She’s a good kid. Reminds me of my daughter.”

Sadness crashed over her, washing away past resentments harbored toward the man. “Beck told me you lost your family. I’m sorry.”

A sigh shuddered through him as he faced her. “It was a long time ago.”

“Time doesn’t erase a loss like that.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Weariness hung heavy on his shoulders. For the first time she didn’t see him as the enemy, but a man who had lost so much. “Where is she?”

“I put her up in a hotel. She’s safer away from home.”

“I’ll check in on her. Look after her if she’ll let me.”

He studied her. “I always knew you were strong, a survivor, but I didn’t appreciate how strong you were until this last week. Y

ou’re not the lost soul I thought you were.”

“Thanks. I think. Did you just come to tell me about Danni?”

“That and a question.”

“Always a question.” No anger, just acceptance.

A hint of humor burned behind his gaze. “You can take the cop out of the job, but you can’t take the job out of the cop.”

“What do you want to ask?”

“One last question about Seattle, and then I’ll let it go.”

Her guard rose. “Okay.”