The Seventh Victim (Texas Rangers 1)

When Beck finally hung up the line, tight bands of muscles gripped his lower back. He rose and stretched, hoping he could ease the muscles and the heaviness weighting his shoulders.

He glanced down at his blotter and zeroed in on Lara Church’s name. “If you think I’m letting you off the hook, you are a damn fool.”

Raines had been in Texas less than twelve hours, and he could safely say he hated it. The heat was brutal, the air dry, and the coffee sucked. He glanced down into the dark mud that the River Diner called coffee and wished he still had the power to arrest.

But he wasn’t here for the coffee. He was here to find out what he could about the second victim, Gretchen Hart, whose identity had been released this afternoon. It wasn’t lost on him that the two Texas victims had been students, like Lara had been.

Setting the cup down on the café table he leaned back in the metal chair and surveyed the busy diner located blocks from the university campus. College students huddled at tables, chattering to each other, talking on their cell phones, or listening to music. There was a lot of activity and noise, but he wondered how much they were truly getting done.

Shit, half of them looked like they couldn’t be more than twelve. And he wondered if he had ever been that young or if there’d been a time when he wasn’t worried. He’d known from a young age that he’d wanted to be a cop and had been focused on getting a spot on the force. Initially, there’d been the entrance exam and then the academy. He’d had to work his ass off for both, but the struggle had been worth it when the chief had pinned his first badge on his chest. He’d been settled in a patrol car less than two months when he’d realized a college degree would take him further on the force. So he’d set his sights on college and the homicide division. It had taken another twelve years of hard work, but he’d managed both.

He checked his watch. According to the online class schedule, Lara Church was slated to hold her class from seven to nine today. Monday and Wednesday were lab days, and Thursday was another classroom day.

God, how many times had he dragged himself into a night class after a twelve-hour shift? He’d drunk gallons of coffee and eaten candy bars to juice up his system for the ninety-minute classes. He’d made straight A’s in college, and he was damn glad he had done the work. However, life had given him new goals and another advanced degree no longer made the list.

His number-one goal now was to see Lara Church. He understood speaking to her wouldn’t help matters, but it wouldn’t hurt to get a visual.

“You gonna drink that coffee, or you just gonna swirl it around and stare at the kids?”

The crisp feminine voice had him raising his gaze to a petite young woman who wore a red RIVER DINER STAFF -shirt, jeans and a name tag that read: DANNI. She had ice-blond hair, gold hoop earrings, and black nail polish. Her attire was strictly punk rocker, but the tough choice of clothes did not jibe with the young face and clear green eyes. She couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen.

He glanced down at his cup. “I was thinking I’d swirl it around a couple hundred more times. I like the way the sludge moves.”

A half smile tweaked the edge of her lips. “It does have its own ballet, doesn’t it? I just brewed a fresh pot. Care to give it a try?”

He pushed the cup away from him. “I’m not sure how much more Texas coffee I can stomach.”

“I made this latest batch. It will be good.”

“Good coffee in Texas? I don’t think so.”

She cocked a brow. “Be right back.”

Before he could answer, Danni vanished behind the counter. She grabbed a new cup and carefully poured coffee into a mug. She moved toward him with quick, purposeful steps and then set the mug in front of him. “That’s good coffee.”

“Really?”

“I can’t write legibly, and I can’t cook a lick, but I can make coffee.”

He took a sip and found he was pleasantly surprised. “Good.”

“Puhleez. It’s the best.”

“I’m from Seattle. We are ground zero for coffee.”

“As long as I’m on duty the coffee will be good.” She took the half-full cup and set it on her tray. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Danni.” As she turned he said, “Hey, didn’t that girl that was killed work here?”

Danni’s eyes grew suspicious. “Yeah. You a reporter?”

Raines shook his head. “God, no.”

“Cop.”

“Do I look like a cop?”

Danni arched a brow. “Yeah.”

“Nice to see I haven’t lost that.” At her confusion he added, “I used to be a cop. Long time ago. I guess the case caught my eye. Hard not to ask questions. Sorry.”

His honesty appeared to disarm her. “No harm. And for the record, I didn’t like what they said about her in the news today.”

“Straightforward enough.”

“I guess I just didn’t like the way they boiled her life down to bare facts. She was so much more than that.” Anger hardened her face, but there was no hint of tears. “Her uncle is flying in tomorrow to claim her.”

“I feel for them. I wouldn’t wish losing a child on my worst enemy.”

“Yeah, well.”

“What can you tell me about her, so I’ll remember more than the basic newscast?”

Danni’s voice grew softer. “She was kind of corny. Liked pink and singing Lady Gaga in the kitchen. She was moving to New York. I was kinda jealous of her.”

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous of, Danni. You strike me as a sharp kid.”

She snorted a laugh.

“Was there anybody who might have wanted to hurt her?”

“Mack and I were talking about it, and none of us can think of anyone. Like we told the Rangers, we’re all thinking it was some random guy.” A customer at another table caught her attention. “I’ve got to go.”

He watched as she moved toward another table and began to gather up plates. Danni was a tough nut and no wilting flower. Just like his daughter.

He could almost hear his wife now. “That girl of ours is going to be a general one day.”

He sipped his coffee, thought of his wife, Susan, and how much he missed her, their daughter, and home. Pushing aside a pang of guilt, he redirected his gaze to the patrons.

Within seconds he spotted a slight, blond woman enter the café. She wore jeans, a T-shirt, and sandals and had a backpack slung over her shoulder. She was as slight as a teenager, but she moved with a confidence that only came with maturity.

Lara Church.

Beck had been right. She wasn’t the meek girl who’d fled Seattle seven years ago. As a man approached her, Raines noted slight stiffening in her back as she extended her hand. Her handshake was firm and her gaze direct.

She laughed as the graying gentleman in his fifties spoke. After what looked to be a question, she pulled out a notebook and made a note. They chatted another half minute

and then she made her way to the diner register, where she ordered a coffee. Just as quickly as she came, she was gone.

Lara Church, the Seattle Strangler’s last victim, had managed to rebuild her life.

But she would have to remember this time. Lives depended on it.

He might not be a cop now, but his cop’s instincts burned strong. Two strangled women. Both dressed in white. One with a penny and the other’s bones too scattered to be determined.

He’d spent a lifetime studying killers and their motivations. And the Seattle Strangler, like nearly all serial killers, enjoyed the ritual of death. He enjoyed the planning, the fantasizing, the hunt, and, of course, the kill.

“So why haven’t you gone after Lara?” Raines whispered. “I’ll bet there were a dozen times you could have killed her by now. Why are you waiting? Why the new victims?” He traced the rim of his cup.

Raines would bet his left nut that the killer had attacked Lara last in Seattle for a reason. He’d likely been dreaming about killing her long before he wrapped his hands around her neck. He had an obsession with her.

The Seattle Strangler, who, many had come to believe, was either dead or in prison, was back.

“Keep playing your game, pal.”

Danni hadn’t expected to like college. When her high school counselor had suggested she try the college art class she’d thought the woman was mental. High school sucked so why would she want to take on more schoolwork? But the counselor had pushed and knowing the class would keep her away from home more often, she said yes.

And then the unexpected happened. She’d been pleasantly surprised. The two-day-a-week class plus lab wasn’t totally lame and her teacher, Lara Church, was pretty cool. When she was on the university campus, life didn’t totally suck.

She hefted the tray of dirty dishes, pushed it in the industrial dishwasher of the River Diner, and hit start. As she reached for the strings of her apron, her boss called out from the kitchen door.

“You’re gonna be late for class,” Mack said.

Mack Rivers had offered her the job in February when she’d tried to pay for a coffee with spare pennies and had come up short. Mack liked to talk about high school and his days on the gridiron, and he wasn’t so fond of the college crowd. Spoiled. Ungrateful. He used those adjectives plus a host of others all the time. His life had peaked during high school, and the once-muscled, lean body of a high school receiver had turned doughy and a little ugly.