The Seventh Victim (Texas Rangers 1)

“Danni,” he said, laughter still dancing in his eyes. “No strings. Now want to join me for breakfast? I am starving.”

“Not at the River Diner.”

He chuckled. “I’m a creature of habit.”

“I know a diner. It’s good. And you can get your pancakes.”

“They as good as the River Diner’s?”

“Better.”

“I’ll follow you.”

Beck was still at the crime scene when his cell buzzed just after twelve noon. He glanced at the caller ID and when he saw Austin City Hospital he hesitated. His mind tripped through a hundred different scenarios. A colleague shot. His mother. His grandfather. Releasing a deep breath he opened the phone. “Sergeant James Beck.”

“Ranger Beck, this is Adele Knight at Austin City Hospital. We have your grandfather here.”

He sat back in his patrol car, letting his gaze drift beyond the crime scene. “Is it his heart?”

“Yes. He had a mild episode early this morning. He’s resting comfortably now.”

“I’ll be there within the half hour.”

Beck explained his situation to the people at the scene and then drove to the hospital. The old man was tougher than rawhide, and Beck couldn’t remember a time when his grandfather hadn’t been in command of his life. When he’d been diagnosed with heart disease last year it had been a wakeup call for Beck. The old man wouldn’t live forever. “But another decade or two will do.”

When he arrived twenty minutes later at the emergency room, he found the nurse’s station. He recognized the woman at the station, Jessie Parker. She’d worked with his mother at the hospital for at least a decade. Dressed in green scrubs, blond hair pulled up in a topknot and glasses perched on her nose, she smiled at him. “Beck.”

“Jessie. I hear my grandfather is here.”

She tucked a pencil in her topknot. “He is. Been raising a fuss with the nurses.”

“How’s he doing?”

“It was a serious attack, but he’s hanging tough. He’s in room twelve. Down the hall, fifth room on the right.”

A cold knot clenched his gut. “Is Mom with him?”

“She’s been with him for the last hour, but just took a break to get a coffee. She worked the night shift and needed just a few minutes to herself.”

Beck’s mother worked harder than anyone he knew. When Beck, his mother, and his brother had moved in with his grandfather, the boys had settled quickly and Henry had relished being father to his grandsons. His mother, just nineteen, had not been content. She’d dreamed of being a nurse so the old man had told her to stay put with the boys and get her degree. Soon she had enrolled in a nursing program. By the time he was seven she had her two-year degree, and by the time he’d graduated high school she’d completed the full four-year nursing degree.

Though there’d been opportunities for his mother to find a new place for Beck and his brother, she had stayed with his grandfather. His mother had dated men, and his grandfather had a lady friend he’d been seeing for over twenty years, but his mother and grandfather had never remarried, choosing instead to keep a stable home for Beck and his brother.

Everyone had assumed that when the Beck boys moved out of the house Elaina and Henry would part ways. But Henry had suffered his first heart attack shortly after the boys had moved out, and so his mother had stayed with the father-in-law who had become just as much a father to her as he had to his grandsons.

Beck removed his hat and stepped into his grandfather’s room. The old man lay on his bed, his face as pale as his sheets. Time had not thinned his white hair and thick mustache. Sun-etched lines burrowed deep around his eyes and forehead. The mechanic resembled Wild Bill Hickok.

He was attached to a half dozen wires and IVs, and for the first time in Beck’s memory, Henry looked fragile. Beck pulled up a chair by the old man’s bed, not sure if he should take his hand, say something, or just sit.

“I’m not dead,” his grandfather said without opening his eyes.

Beck loosened his tie. “I hear you’re making life tough for the nurses.”

“I don’t appreciate their fussing.” He opened his eyes and looked at Beck. “What the hell are you doing here?”

With effort, Beck kept his voice steady and light. “I heard you were sick, but I can see they were wrong.”

The old man nodded. “Damn straight. I don’t know what the fuss is about.”

“You had a heart attack,” said Beck’s mother from the doorway. Dressed in nurse’s scrubs, Elaina Beck’s dark hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. She was a petite woman who’d kept her figure trim and at fifty-one could have passed for a woman at least a decade younger. A gold cross dangled around her neck. “And it was more serious than the last.”

“You worry too much,” Henry said. “Don’t listen to your mother. She’s a woman and women worry.”

Elaina arched a brow. “I am the most sensible woman you have ever known, Henry Beck, so watch your tone with me.”

They’d grumbled at each other like this for as long as Beck could remember. “Has anyone spoken to Steve?”

“I called your brother,” his mother said, “But he did not pick up. I left him a message and told him to find his way back to Austin as fast as his fanny could carry him.”

“Leave the boy alone,” the grandfather said. “He’s most likely working.”

“Working,” Elaina said. “His obligation now is to family.”

Steve Beck worked for the FBI. He rarely discussed his work, which required him to travel a great deal. Right now he could be anywhere in the world.

“I’ll track him down,” Beck said.

“No,” the grandfather said. “Leave the boy be. I’m fine, and I’ll be out of here by sunset.”

Elaina shook her head. “I know my boy. He’ll be here for a few days.”

Beck held his comment regarding Steve. He’d give his brother a little more time and then he would track his ass down. In the meantime, he looked at his grandfather’s pale, drawn face. The doctors and nurses, including his mother, were treating him like an old man. Their intentions were good, but Henry Beck wasn’t used to being babied.

“Old man,” Beck said as he stood. “You need to stop bellyaching and do what the doctors say. You don’t have to like a job to do it well.”

Henry grunted, frowning at words he’d tossed out to his grandsons often enough. “I got enough gas in my engine to kick your ass for being disrespectful.”

“I’d let you try, but I’m in the middle of a case right now. Once it’s solved and you’re on your feet we’ll mix it up.”

“Punk.” Henry closed his eyes, but this time there was a grin on his lips.

Beck clamped his hand over the old man’s and for the briefest second the old man’s fingers curled around his. “See you soon.”

Beck and his mother left the room.

“The way you two talk to each other,” Elaina said.

He cleared his throat. “I know you love him, Mom, but he’s not a child.”

Elaina’s eyes reflected her pain and worry. “He’s a sick old man.”

“Maybe, but don’t talk to him like he is. Give him shi

t just like you used to when Steve and I were kids.”

She clutched her cross and slid it back and forth on its chain. “Your language, Beck.”

“I’m serious, Mom. Don’t treat him like he’s old.”

“I got it. I got it.”

Beck softened his tone. “So how bad is it?”

“Bad. He coded in the ambulance.”

“He called nine-one-one?”

Her intent gaze glistened with unshed tears. “He was on the phone with me when he complained of chest pains. I sent the ambulance.”

His own chest tightened with frustration. It was his job to fix the broken, and he had no remedy for the pain in his mother’s eyes or his own heart. “Is he going to be all right?”

“They need to do more tests and see what damage has been done.”

“He’s tough.” The words were meant to allay his fears as much as his mother’s.

“Not so much right now. Which is why you need to track down Steve. I know your brother loves Henry and would want to see him.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Last I heard he was working a case by the Mexican border.”

She removed her glasses and cleaned the lenses with the edge of her scrub top. “Just find him.”

Beck leaned down and kissed his mother on her cheek. “I will find him.”

Her gaze narrowed as she studied his face. “You’re not sleeping.”

“Like I told Henry, I have a case.”

“I read about the women who were strangled. Is that the case?”

“It is.”

She fingered the cross dangling over her collarbone. “Who would do such a thing to a woman?”

“I don’t know, but I plan to find out.”

She frowned. “Be careful. If this crazy man can kill a woman, he won’t think twice about taking a shot at you.”

“I will.” He’d compromise his own safety in a heartbeat for the opportunity to drop this killer.