The Seventh Victim (Texas Rangers 1)

He held her tight. His mind flashed to an image of Jonathan’s fingers around her throat. Christ, he’d almost lost her. “You’ll see the paramedics when they arrive.” A statement, not a request. “And if they say hospital, you go.”

“Fine. I’m not up for an argument.”

“Smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” The half dig was an intentional test to determine her mental state.

A cock of her eyebrow told him the command rankled. “Watch it, pal.”

Under all the bruises and trauma Lara was still there, ready to challenge. He hugged her tighter, aware Raines watched them closely. “Tell me what happened?”

Her bravado wavered. She explained about lunch and then seeing the picture. “Having him so close smelling of lemons and then seeing the picture. I just knew.”

“You mentioned lemons in Dr. Granger’s office.”

“I asked him if he killed the others, and he said yes. He said they reminded him of me.” Her eyes were a chilling blue. “When he started strangling me, I couldn’t break his grip. I was starting to pass out when I heard the door open. It was Raines.”

It galled Beck that he’d not been fast enough to save Lara. He guided Lara to a seat by the entryway and ordered her to stay. She nodded, leaned back against the wall, and closed her eyes. “Raines, why were you here?”

Raines leaned against the wall, staring at Jonathan’s body. “I’ve been watching Matthews for days.”

“How did you fit the puzzle pieces together?”

“I hacked into the gallery computer and pulled up the sale on the Seattle photo. I discovered the delivery site was a warehouse, which is where I planted a couple of cameras. I suspected the buyer was linked to the killings.”

“And you saw Jonathan.”

“He picked up his package yesterday.”

“Buying a picture doesn’t make him the Strangler,” Beck said.

Raines grinned. “I did some digging and found out he’d been flying between Austin and Seattle regularly in the months before Lara’s first attack. He was in Seattle the day she was attacked. I have the flight records.”

Beck glanced back at the angry red scratches on Lara’s neck. Fresh fury surged. “I’m glad you put it together.”

Raines looked pleased. “I’ve had a lot of years to think about this case. More sleepless nights than any cop should have. Knowing him now, I’d say he was in love with Lara and the dress symbolized marriage.”

“And the penny?”

Raines shrugged. “A lucky six pence in your shoe? The ones brides carry for luck. Hell, we might not ever have all the pieces.” He pushed away from the wall. “The penny is the one detail that nails him. That was a detail only the killer knew.”

The explanation made sense. It wasn’t often that cases were solved and all the details wrapped up in a neat bow, but then most cases didn’t have a hound dog of an ex-cop sniffing after for nearly a decade.

“I’ve tracked cases all over the country for the last seven years and none came up with the MO of this case. For whatever reason, he did not kill after Seattle. Maybe he liked the fact that the attack had left Lara broken.”

“Lara is not broken,” Beck said with force.

“I agree. She might have left Seattle battered, but she wasn’t broken. She’s a woman on top.” He rubbed his wrists under the cuffs. “And that had to eat at Jonathan’s gut.”

Beck shoved out a breath. Like it or not, Raines had done him a big damn favor when he’d saved Lara. “You’re going to need a lawyer.”

Raines relaxed as if he’d just finished a final exam or found out the cancer test was negative. “Got one.”

Beck arched a brow. “Just in case?”

Raines grinned. “That’s right.” In the distance, sirens blared, growing louder by the second. “Worry about Lara.”

Beck tensed, uncomfortable with the ease with which Raines read him.

Raines chuckled. “I remember a partner saying once that I stared at my wife like a starving man ogled steak.” His voice grew rough. “We were married eleven years and she could make me weak with just one look.” He hesitated and swallowed. “Hell of a woman. A lot like Lara. Strong. A survivor. No lost soul there.”

The sirens stopped outside the house, and seconds later he heard uniforms coming through the front door. Beck apprised the officers of the situation and then led Lara out of the house. He took her straight to a waiting ambulance.

“I need to check on Lincoln,” she said.

“I’ll check on the damn dog,” Beck said. “Just sit.”

He found Lincoln standing on wobbly feet, trying to take a step. He grabbed the dog’s collar. “Hang tight, partner. Let’s get you outside.” He led the animal to his own car, turned on the air-conditioning, and locked Lincoln inside, where he was safe.

When Beck returned to the ambulance, the paramedic glanced up at Beck. “She needs to go to the hospital and have that throat x-rayed. I want to make sure there is no tissue damage or swelling that could get worse over time.”

“Is that actually necessary?” Lara said.

The paramedic glared at Lara. “Well, I could send you home, your throat could swell, and then we could hope that paramedics reached you before you died.”

She sighed. “You made your point.”

“I’ll drive her to the hospital,” Beck said.

“You don’t have to do that.” Lara said. “I can drive myself.”

The medic laughed. “Right. When pigs fly. She rides in the bay with me.”

Beck nodded. “I’ll follow.”

Color rose over her cheeks as she stood. “You’re doing it again.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “What’s that?”

Her throat burned. “Making a request that sounds like an order.”

He leaned toward her a fraction. “It sounds like an order because it is an order.”

“I don’t like orders.”

“Today you do.”

Four hours later, Lara sat on the gurney in the emergency room, teetering between boredom and irritation. There’d been no sign of Beck while she’d been with the doctors. She’d had a complete exam, an MRI, and a chest and throat X-ray. Now feeling bored, nervous, and a bit abandoned, Lara had trouble sitting still on the gurney. Her thoughts tumbled to Jonathan and the events of the day, which still just did not feel real. Jonathan. He’d killed all those women.

She dug back in her memory, trying to remember the kid who had lived on the farm by her grandmother’s. He’d been quiet. He’d liked to build things. Always designing something in his sketchbook. He’d laughed a lot during those summers. He’d been her grandmother’s handyman, always willing to fix anything. She’d had no idea that such evil lurked behind the smile.

Jonathan had followed her thousands of miles to Seattle, stalked her, and killed other women. As much as she replayed the facts, she couldn’t make sense of them.

Purposeful footsteps clicking down the hallway had her easing back onto her bed. She hopped up on the gurney and folded her hands in her lap.

The curtain slid back to reveal Dr. Granger. As always, she looked buttoned up and formal. Tight bun, trim skirt, white shirt, and sensible heels. Lara wondered if the doctor was always this buttoned up. When she was home alone did she ever drop her dirty clothes on the floor or drink from the juice carton?

“How are you?” Dr. Granger said.

Lara straightened and smoothed her hand over her flyaway hair. “Hanging tough.”

Green eyes scrutinized. “Are you? It’s been quite a day.”

She rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. “An understatement, Doctor.”

Dr. Granger sat in the metal chair by her bed. “You look restless.”

“I want to get out of here. I want to go home to my dog.” I haven’t seen Beck since we arrived.

“The police are going to take your statement.”

“I’ve already recited my story to Beck and Santos.” She

shifted, wishing the pent-up energy in her body would ease.

“Talk to me.”

“My brain is a little jumbled right now. My good friend tried to kill me.”

Dr. Granger frowned, staring but not speaking.

Lara closed her eyes, willing the images of today from her mind. “I’ve not been in a hospital since Seattle. I’d forgotten the smells, the sounds, and the endless waiting.”

“The doctors want to make sure you’re okay.”

She picked at the edge of the white sheet on the gurney. “I feel fine.”

“You were attacked.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t like last time. I remember more.”

“Including Seattle.”

“Pieces of it.”

“Such as?”

“How Jonathan’s hands felt and smelled when he grabbed me.” She closed her eyes. “I can hear his voice. He sounded exactly the same today. You shouldn’t have left me. He said that many times seven years ago and today.”

“What are you feeling?”

“I’m shaken. Tomorrow when it really sinks in I might be a mess, but for now I’m okay.” The restlessness churned and hammered into the shield she now hid behind. “As bad as today has been, it’s a relief to know that at least I know. Having all the pieces, no matter how ugly, is better than having nothing. I can get on with my life.”

Dr. Granger adjusted her glasses. “Trauma doesn’t just vanish, Lara.”

Her fingers curled into fists. “I’m not carrying this. I am not. I’ve been running for seven years, and I am not doing it anymore.”

Dr. Granger released a sigh. “If you find letting go does not go as smoothly as you’d like, call me. I’m still happy to talk.”

“Thanks.” She forced the tension from her shoulders. “And I’m sorry I’m such a bitch.”

A smile softened her face. “You’re stressed. You’re not a bitch.”

“If I’m not a bitch I’m doing a fair imitation of one.”

Dr. Granger’s eyes warmed. “No worries.”

“I don’t suppose you could get them to spring me early?”

“Places like this have their own pace.” She rose. “But I’ll see what I can do.”