It was up to him to protect and help Corinna Pike.

Tucking her small frame against his side, he led her away from the scene of the crime.

She’d been a gawky kid with a mouth full of braces and an attitude of superiority that had grated on Ben when he’d first met her. He’d watched her transform into a Texas Rose—beautiful, poised aloof and way off-limits.

At least, for a guy like him.

Now Corinna was an orphan. Something they had in common. Ben gathered Corinna’s hands in his. He’d walk through this with her every step of the way. But first he had to know what had happened.

TEXAS RANGER JUSTICE:

Keeping the Lone Star State safe.

Daughter of Texas—Terri Reed, January 2011

Body of Evidence—Lenora Worth, February 2011

Face of Danger—Valerie Hansen, March 2011

Trail of Lies—Margaret Daley, April 2011

Threat of Exposure—Lynette Eason, May 2011

Out of Time—Shirlee McCoy, June 2011

TERRI REED

At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Steeple Hill. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA® Award Finalist and a 2005 National Readers’ Choice Award Finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five of the Faith at the Crossroads continuity series, took third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award, and Her Christmas Protector took third place in 2008. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.

You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280. Visit her on the web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com, leave comments on her blog at www.ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com or email her at terrireed@sterling.net.

DAUGHTER OF TEXAS
TERRI REED

MILLS & BOON

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Delight yourself in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart.

—Psalms 37:4

Writing is never done in a vacuum. Thank you to my fellow Texas Ranger Justice authors: Lenora, Valerie, Margaret, Lynette and Shirlee. You made writing this book fun.

Thank you to Emily Rodmell and the staff at Steeple Hill Books for coming up with such an exciting series. And as always, Leah Vale, Lissa Manley, Melissa McClone and Ruth Kaufman—I am forever grateful.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

The Ranger creed: “No man in the wrong can stand up against a fellow that’s in the right and keeps on a-comin’.”

Corinna Pike froze on the unlit front porch of her family’s ranch home. Gunfire had come from within the house!

Her startled gaze shot to her father’s Crown Victoria parked in the driveway. Her father, the only person she had left in the world, was inside the house.

Terror crashed through her like a runaway freight train.

She exploded into motion, but the front door was locked. She dropped her dance bag, fumbled with her house key, jammed it in the lock and pushed the door open so hard it bounced back from the wall.

“Dad!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

A chill of dread that had nothing to do with the drop in the late September evening temperature skated across her flesh.

Corinna raced through the darkened hallway of the sprawling, single-story house toward the crack of light coming from beneath her father’s study door. As the daughter of a Texas Ranger, running to gunfire was in her blood.

She skidded to a halt and reached for the study’s doorknob and flung open the door. The light in the study winked out, throwing the world around her into pitch blackness. A loud feline screech, followed by eighteen pounds of fleeing cat slamming into her legs, made Corinna lurch back.

Before she could even think of shouting out in surprise at her deranged tabby, an explosion of noise erupted. A bright flash of light scalded her eyes. Her ears rang. Something hot sliced across her bare biceps. Searing pain brought tears to her eyes. She’d been shot!

She instinctively dropped to the floor, her hands covering her head. No more bullets came her way. Instead, she heard the patio doors fly open and the sound of running feet leaving the scene.

Around her, the house settled into a stark silence where only the rasp of her own breathing echoed in her ears. The acrid smell of gunpowder permeating the air almost obliterated the coppery scent of blood assaulting her senses.

The moon’s light spilled into the study through the open patio doors outlining the desk. Staying low, she edged along the wall toward it. Using the desk as cover, she reached for the lamp with her right hand and winced with pain at the effort to raise her injured arm. Switching to her uninjured arm, she flipped the control knob. Soft light made her blink as she adjusted to the brightness. Cautiously, she peered out into the room.

She didn’t see anyone ready to take another shot at her, but the sight before her was even more horrifying.

Her gaze landed on her father sprawled across the thick wool rug in front of his cherrywood desk. Everything inside her recoiled. Her mind tried to process what she saw, her feet felt rooted in place.

Her father’s service weapon lay beside him. Blood oozed from a gunshot wound in his chest just below the Texas Ranger badge pinned to his plaid flannel shirt, soaking the beige carpet beneath him a deep crimson red.

Her wild gaze swept the room again looking for a threat and landed on an unfamiliar man’s prone body. He had a similar wound in his abdomen. The man, mid-thirties and looking very much out of place with his dirty clothes and matted dark hair, lay very still.

She didn’t see a weapon in his hand.

Crying out in anguish, Corinna crawled as best she could with one arm to her father’s side. “Please, don’t let him be dead.”

A high keening noise filled the room. Vaguely aware the sound came from her, she reached a shaky hand to his neck and pressed her fingers to the spot where a pulse should beat. Nothing.

Agony trapped her breath in her lungs. She fell forward, her head coming to rest on her father’s broad shoulder. First her mother, now her father. The two people she loved most in the world both taken from her. Her mother by sickness, her father…murdered.

How could God let this happen?

Forcing herself to move, to assess the situation, she asked herself, What would her father do?

She scrambled over to the other man and checked for a pulse. Beneath her fingers she felt the faint beat of his heart.

Quickly, and without regard to her own pain, she ripped off her navy sweatshirt with the orange-and-white roadrunner logo of the University of Texas, San Antonio. She pressed the wadded-up material against the man’s wound to stem the flow of blood seeping from his abdomen.

She needed help. She ran to the credenza and grabbed the cordless phone with the hand of her uninjured side.

A cat yowled to her left.

Corinna jumped at Gabby’s unexpected cry, her heart still racing from being shot at, her breath stalled in her chest. The orange tabby stood on the threshold of the open double French doors leading to the back patio. Corinna breathed a sigh of relief. If it hadn’t been for Gabby’s forceful exit just minutes ago, Corinna might be dead.

In the distance the sound of an engine turned over, roared and then faded away. The killer getting away. Returning to the stranger’s side to press the hand of her wounded arm on the bunched-up sweatshirt, she dialed 911 with her other hand. Her gaze shifted back to her father.

A sob caught in her throat. Now she was truly alone in the world.

Texas Ranger Ben Fritz threw his Jeep into park on the curving, graveled driveway of the ranch behind the small compact car belonging to Corinna, Captain Pike’s daughter.

Gut churning, Ben glanced once more at the cryptic text message he’d received on his cell phone from his boss, Texas Ranger Captain Gregory Pike, only twenty minutes ago.

CONVENE AT MY HOUSE, ASAP. MAJOR CASE ABOUT TO EXPLODE.

What was Greg working on that was so volatile?

No way would he call the Rangers to his house for a case with his adult daughter in attendance. Greg had kept his private life as isolated from his job as possible.

When he’d first received the text, Ben had been bothered that Greg had kept a case from him. But his annoyance evaporated. Something weird was going on and Greg had reached out to him. Apprehension slithered down Ben’s spine like a rattler on the loose as he jumped out of his Jeep.

Lights from the cars of other Rangers, the elite law enforcement agency unique to Texas, cut through the twilight, illuminating the front of the Pike house, an expansive L-shaped place set back from the road. The circular driveway wrapped around a grassy area with a magnolia tree, a cedar bench, and a few small bushes that would flower in the spring.

Obviously, all the Rangers of Company D had received Greg’s text. This was serious.

Oliver Drew climbed out of his 4x4, the red paint barely visible beneath a thick layer of grime and dust. Ben paused to wait for the half Native-American Ranger. He sported his usual leather vest over a long-sleeve white button-down, jeans and scuffed boots.

Tall, well-built and oozing with charm, Daniel Boone Riley adjusted his standard issue white cowboy hat over his dark hair as he stepped from his truck. His eyes were troubled as they met Ben’s gaze.

More vehicles barreled down the drive and halted, stacked end to end like slot cars ready for the races. Cade Jarvis, Trevor Donovan, Marvel Jones, Levi McDonnell and Gisella Hernandez, the lone female of their company, got out of their vehicles and joined Ben. Only two were missing, Anderson Michaels and Evan Chen. Evan was on assignment over in Corpus Christie and would no doubt check in. And Ben knew Anderson would arrive as soon as possible from wherever he was.

It was the Ranger way to drop whatever they were doing to answer the call. Ben had been grocery shopping. He’d abandoned his cart in the middle of the produce aisle.

“Any idea what this is about?” Oliver asked.

“None.” Ben started toward the front porch.

“What case was the captain working?” asked Gisella, falling in step behind Ben.

“Don’t know,” Daniel replied.

Ben stopped in his tracks. Since the porch light wasn’t on, he hadn’t noticed that the front door stood wide open. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in alert. He held up a hand to halt his fellow Rangers. He pointed at the open door.

Cade tapped Levi on the shoulder. “We’ll take the back,” Cade said in a low voice as he unholstered his weapon from his belt.

The wail of a siren punctuated the air, intensifying the unease gripping Ben. He motioned for the others to follow as he drew his sidearm. They entered the house in standard two-by-two formation. Ben directed Gisella and Oliver to peel off toward the unlit living room, while he motioned for Daniel and Marvel to head down the darkened hall toward the bedrooms. Then Ben, with Trevor at his back, moved toward the only lit room. Greg’s study.

The scene that met them rocked Ben back on his heels. Horror filled his senses as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Greg, his mentor and friend, lay on the floor. Blood pooled around him. Another man, also shot, was sprawled a few feet away. Greg’s daughter, dressed in loose sweatpants and a pale purple leotard covered in blood, sat beside the man, her knees drawn to her chest, her head bowed so that only one side of her pale face was visible. One hand pressed a wad of material to his wound. A black cordless phone dangled from the other.

Acting on instinct and training, Ben quickly searched for the unidentified man’s weapon. And found none. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Ben picked up Greg’s weapon and sniffed the end. He frowned. The gun hadn’t been fired recently.

Obviously, this wasn’t a Western-style shoot-out. Whoever had fired the fatal shots was gone, along with the murder weapon.

Cade and Levi entered through the open patio doors. A hiss of surprise came from Gisella as she stepped up behind Ben. More shocked exclamations followed as the Rangers slipped carefully into the room.

Ben went to Greg and squatted down to check his pulse. Grief sucked the air from his body. He looked at his comrades and shook his head.

“This one’s still breathing,” Cade said as he checked the pulse of the other man.

Ben shoved his own anguish aside to be dealt with later and focused on Corinna. By profession, Corinna was a prima ballerina with the San Antonio Ballet Company, like her mother before her. Amanda Pike had died of breast cancer when Corinna was young, not long before Ben had met Greg.

He moved closer and touched her shoulder. She flinched. A knot formed in his gut. She looked so small and vulnerable.

Had she witnessed her father’s murder? Fresh sorrow and compassion tightened his chest. Protective instincts rose despite the antagonism that had always sparked between them. He wanted to shield this fragile ballerina from the harsh reality of her father’s death.

The sound of booted feet brought Ben’s gaze around. Sheriff Karl Layton, a tall man with shocking white hair and chiseled features pushed his way into the room. Layton inclined his head, his question clear. Was Pike alive?

Ben shook his head as another wave of grief flowed through him. Layton blew out a breath and tears misted the older man’s eyes. Greg and Karl had been close friends from way back.

Layton swiped a hand over his face. “Dispatch relayed the 911 call.”

The sound of an ambulance arriving let Ben know they only had a few minutes to collect information before the body was remanded to the local police force. His gut twisted with grief. Greg wasn’t just any body. He’d been a father figure to Ben for more than a decade.

Shifting his focus from Greg, Ben said to his men, “Work the scene. Get the SAPD crime response unit in here pronto while the evidence is still fresh.”

“Already made the call,” Cade replied, his normally tanned skin ashen.

Gently, Ben took the phone from Corinna’s hand and passed it to Oliver. Her skin was pasty white; her dark hair had loosened from her normally severe bun. And her dark eyes were glassy as she stared off into space. Taking Corinna’s shoulders in his hands, he pulled her to her feet. She didn’t resist. Ben figured shock was setting in.

When she turned to face toward him, his heart contracted painfully in his chest. “You’re hurt!”

She didn’t seem to hear him.

Blood seeped from a scrape on her right upper biceps. He inspected the wound. Looked like a bullet had grazed her. Whoever had killed her father had tried to kill her. With aching ferocity, rage roared through Ben. “Get the paramedics.”

“On it.” Cade pivoted to disappear out the door. A moment later, he returned with one of the emergency personnel in tow while the rest rushed by to help the injured man.

“Excuse me, sir,” the young blond man said to Ben.

“Let me take a look at her injury.”

Ben stepped back but held firmly to her slender hand.

“It’s a surface wound that will probably leave a small scar,” the paramedic stated as he placed a bandage over the gash. “The heat of the bullet cauterized the flesh. It will heal quickly enough.”

But Ben had a feeling that her heart wouldn’t heal anytime soon. She’d adored her father. That had been apparent from the moment Ben stepped foot into the Pike world. She’d barely tolerated Ben from the get-go with her icy stares and brusque manner, making it clear she thought him not good enough to be in her world. But when it came to her father…

Greg had known that if anything happened to him, she’d need help coping with the loss and ensuing devastation.

“Ben, I need you to promise me if anything ever happens to me, you’ll watch out for Corinna. She’ll need an anchor. I fear she’s too fragile to suffer another death.”

Of course Ben had promised. Though he’d refused to even allow the thought that any harm would befall his mentor and friend to form. He’d wanted to believe Greg was indestructible. But he wasn’t. None of them were.

The Rangers were human and very mortal, performing a risky job that put their lives on the line every day.

Never before had Ben been so acutely aware of that fact.

Now his captain was gone. It was up to him to not only bring Greg’s murderer to justice, but to protect and help Corinna.

Tucking her small frame against his side, he led her away from the scene of the crime and into the living room. He flipped on the table lamp before guiding Corinna to the worn navy blue leather couch.

She’d been a gawky pre-teen with a mouth full of braces and an attitude of superiority that had grated on Ben when he’d first met her. He’d watched her transform into a Texas Rose—beautiful, poised, aloof and way off-limits.

At least for a guy like him.

Now Corinna was an orphan. Something they had in common. His heart twisted with empathy and remembered pain. All the confusion, anguish and utter helplessness of losing his parents still swirled around his heart, even after more than two decades.

Ben gathered Corinna’s hands in his. He’d walk through this with her every step of the way. But first he had to know what had happened. “Corinna, I need you to talk to me.”

Her lips trembled but no words came. Large tears slid from her eyes to mingle with the blood on her cheek. It hurt him to see her so distraught.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

She blinked, a slow sweep of long dark lashes. Turning her head to meet his gaze, she said in a soft, broken voice, “Someone killed him.”

“Did you see who shot your father?”

She shook her head. “I heard the gunfire as I arrived.”

He hated to push Corinna for fear she might break, but he needed to know what she’d seen so they could follow the fresh trail to Greg’s killer.

“I need you to walk me through this. You arrived and heard the gun. Were you in your car?”

She shook her head. “On the porch.”

“How many shots did you hear?”

“Two.”

He rubbed her arms, careful not to go near the stark white bandage wrapped around her biceps. “Okay. That’s good. You heard two shots. Then what happened? Did someone run out?”

“No. I ran in. The study light was on. Then it wasn’t. I—” She closed her eyes.

He sensed she was close to the edge, but he had to know. “You what?”

“I opened the door.”

“What did you see?”

She began to rock slightly, back and forth. Back and forth. “Nothing. Gabby startled me and I jerked back.” She lifted her gaze, her obsidian eyes filled with horror.

“Someone shot at me.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“Too dark. I hid. The person ran out through the patio doors.”

Grateful that she’d had the presence of mind to hide, he asked, “When you turned the light on, was…your dad like you found him?”

“Yes. But…he wasn’t breathing.” Her voice broke on a sob.

“Do you know the other man? Do you know why he was with your father?”

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Did you hear anything else? Voices? See anyone?”

She shifted her gaze away toward the window. “I heard the distant sound of an engine.”

Ben glanced out the picture window at the back of the living room to the acreage where he knew a dozen or so horses grazed. The killer could have used the property’s rear gate.

“We should question the neighboring ranchers. See if anyone saw a vehicle leaving the premises,” Trevor stated in his brusque manner. “Cade, Levi, go.”

The two agents looked to Ben for confirmation. Ben nodded. “And check the gate. That could have been the escape route.”

The two men hustled out of the house. Ben noted Trevor’s frown but now was not the time to deal with the pecking order within the Rangers.

He refocused on Corinna. “Do you normally arrive home at this time?”

“No. I’m usually much later, but Kyle’s sick. Hard to practice the duet routines without him,” she said.

Was it coincidence that her dance partner had been sick or a ruse to get her home? Was she the intended target? Ben knew of Kyle Dennison, though they’d never met. He would run a check on Dennison as a precaution. At this point, he couldn’t overlook anyone as a potential suspect.

Anything out of the ordinary required examination. They didn’t know what or who they were dealing with.

If only Greg had kept Ben in the loop on what he’d been working on before it became a dire situation. If only he’d contacted Ben sooner…

Oliver stepped forward, his dark eyes on Corinna. “So you heard nothing that would tell us who did this?”

“No. Just the gun…” A sob broke from her and she buried her face in her hands.

Ben gathered her stiff form close, letting her cry. He hadn’t had much opportunity to comfort grieving women. Doing so felt awkward and yet, tenderness rose to the surface, making him tighten his arms around her. She felt so delicate and defenseless in his arms.

The white bandage covering her biceps glowed like a neon sign. A few more inches and the bullet could have lodged in her heart. She’d come close to dying tonight.

Just like her father. Grief battled to be loosened. He held it in check. This was not the time to give vent to his emotions. He had to stay focused. Greg would have counted on Ben to find his murderer. As well as protect Corinna. Failure at either task was not an option, which only served to increase the pressure building in Ben’s chest.

Corinna clutched the front of his chambray shirt. A haunted look darkened her eyes. “You have to find the person who did this.”

“I will,” he vowed as he pulled her back to his chest.

No matter what it took, he would bring down Captain Pike’s murderer. For Corinna. For all of them.

TWO

Ben’s strong arms encircled Corinna, buffeting her from the raging nightmare going on around her as uniformed San Antonio police officers filled her house. She shifted on the couch. Biting pain from the wound on her arm zinged through her. Never in a million years would she have thought she’d be in this position.

Acutely aware of Ben’s closeness, she allowed him to hold her, needing his strength. At the moment, she had none of her own.

His heart pounded like thunder in her ears through his shirt, drowning out the crackle of radios and dismay of law enforcement officers as they discovered one of their own had been murdered. The cotton fabric of Ben’s shirt, so soft against her cheek, smelled freshly laundered. She focused on the little things. That’s all she could do right now.

She squeezed her eyes tight.

Why couldn’t this be a nightmare? Why couldn’t she open her eyes and find herself back at the dance studio? Or better yet, back to this morning when she’d kissed her father goodbye for the day, not realizing it would be the last time she’d ever see him alive.

A sob of pain and grief lodged in her throat. Tears leaked from her closed eyes. She fought to hold them back. She was usually so good at keeping her emotions under control.

But the image of her father lying in a pool of his own blood blazed in her head, forever imprinted in her mind. She shuddered. Ben’s hands smoothed over her back in a calming rhythm. He would find whoever had done this. Her father had trusted Ben.

Truth be told, so did she, even if she did harbor anger and resentment toward Ben for invading their lives and taking her father’s attention away from her. Every time they went off to do “guy” things, Corinna had seethed inside and longed to be included. She never was. They had locked her out of that world. Though as she’d grown older she’d resigned herself to being excluded, she still blamed the man her father had taken under his wing. The son he’d never had.

“Ben, we need you in here,” said a deep voice that Corinna recognized as Ranger Marvel Jones. He was a tall African-American man with a shaved head.

She felt Ben nod.

“In a minute,” Ben replied. “Can you ask Gisella to come here?”

“Sure thing,” Marvel said.

Ben tried to ease Corinna out of his arms. She resisted, unwilling to face reality on her own. Here, within Ben’s embrace, she felt safe, felt protected from the grief waiting to overwhelm her.

It didn’t make sense. He was the last person in the world she should be looking to for solace. Old wounds full of antagonism stirred, but the overpowering anguish wouldn’t let anything else in.

“Corinna, honey, I need to talk to you. Please, look at me,” Ben said, his voice soft and coaxing.

She shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered, not wanting to break the protective barrier of isolation that kept reality at bay. She squeezed her grip on his shirt, pulling herself tighter against his chest.

With gentle yet firm pressure he pushed her away and lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. “Open your eyes.”

Reluctantly, she did as he asked. For a moment her eyes wouldn’t focus, but then his familiar and handsome face came into view.

She stared at him dispassionately and took in his features, the strong jaw, lean cheekbones, straight nose. She liked the way his warm brown, close-cropped hair spiked up in front, giving him a roguish appeal. His dark brown eyebrows slashed over hazel eyes.

Eyes so full of the same pain and grief she felt.

Fresh tears burned the back of her eyes. Tears for this man whom her father had loved like a son. Ben was grieving, too.

From the moment her father had brought him home when he was a teenager, he’d been her rival for her father’s attention. He’d won.

Ben had become the son her father had wanted. The one he’d confided in, the one he took to his favorite sports events, the one who’d been groomed to follow in her father’s footsteps.

Oh, she’d never doubted her father’s love for her. He’d always attend her recitals, made a big deal of her birthdays and lavished her with gifts at Christmas, but it wasn’t the same as wanting to be with her.

An intense pain, a familiar ache of losing a parent—losing the person who knew, supported and loved you no matter what—lanced through her. Her chest tightened. Daddy. She would give up everything to have him back with her even for just a moment so she could tell him she loved him. But that would never happen.

Neither she nor Ben had had a chance to say goodbye.

“You got here before the police,” Corinna said aloud, realizing that several Rangers had arrived before she’d even heard the sirens.

He nodded. “Yes. The captain sent out a message to come here.”

Her pulse spiked. “He needed you.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Yes. If only I’d been closer, arrived sooner, maybe I could have prevented his murder.”

She wanted to blame him. To shout that yes, he should have been here to stop this from happening, but deep inside she knew that wasn’t fair. “If you had been here, you probably would have been shot as well.” She swallowed back the bile that rose. “If I had come home any earlier…” Her voice trailed off as the thought played itself out in her head. If she’d arrived any earlier, she, too, could very well be dead right now, not just injured.

Ben took in a sharp breath. “Thankfully, you didn’t.” He eased apart from her and stood. “I need to talk with Gisella for a moment.”

Her gaze slid to the female Ranger standing in the doorway, patiently awaiting Ben. Pallor underscored her olive skin and her dark eyes were sad. Dressed in worn blue jeans, soft leather boots and a Western-cut pale blue blouse, she didn’t look like a Ranger. Corinna wondered fleetingly what she did when not on duty.

“I’ll be right back,” Ben said and walked away.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, Corinna kept her gaze trained on Ben as he stood quietly talking with Gisella. From her peripheral vision she saw the EMTs roll in a gurney. Deep inside she knew it wasn’t for her father. Her father was dead. He’d be leaving with the coroner.

No, the gurney was for the man who’d survived the attack.

The man who might know who killed her father.

After a few moments, Ben and Gisella walked over to the couch, blocking Corinna’s view as the unidentified man was wheeled out. She dropped her gaze to her clenched hands. Her mind replayed the last images she had of her father. His body sprawled across the floor, blood staining the shirt she’d ironed for him that morning. His dear face frozen in death. A shudder ripped through her.

Gisella remained standing while Ben sat beside Corinna on the couch, crowding her space. His big, strong hands engulfed her slender, delicate ones, making her feel so small and helpless. She didn’t like the feeling at all, but at the moment, didn’t have the power to fight against it.

“You can’t stay here,” Ben said.

“Do you really think the person who shot at me might come back?”

“I don’t want to take any chances,” he said. “He can’t know for sure you didn’t see him.”

She hated the thought of being run out of her house. She wished she could be strong enough to stay. But…not tonight. Her father had been killed here. His blood still stained the carpet. Her blood was splattered on the door. She wondered if she’d ever be able to enter the study again.

Grief twisted her insides, making her ache way worse than any wound to her arm could. “There’s living quarters in the barn out back. I’ll stay there.”

From the way his lips flattened into a grim line, she could tell he wasn’t hip to her plan. “It would be better if you stayed somewhere else. Gisella has offered her house.”

“No. I wouldn’t want to bother anyone, even another Ranger.” Just the thought of the sympathy and hovering that her friends would do, made her recoil. She didn’t like to be coddled. She straightened her shoulders. “I’m staying. This is my home. I’ll not be run off. Someone needs to tend to the animals. Besides, how would anyone know I was in the barn?”

Disapproval flashed in his eyes. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Not your call, Ben.”

His mouth pressed into a grim line. “Then I’ll have SAPD post a guard outside.”

“Fine.” She appreciated his concern and caution, though she doubted it would be needed. “I’ll need to pack a few things to take out there with me.”

He pulled her to her feet and walked her toward her room, keeping his body between her line of vision and the study. Once they reached her room, he backed away with a nod, his face grim.

Gisella stepped into the room. “What can I do to help?”

Bring my father back to life. The thought flittered across Corinna’s mind. But no one could do that.

Her hands curled into fists. Anger roared through her like a lion on the chase.

Her soul cried out to God, Why? Why did You let him die, too?

Her faith in God had been rocked when her mother had died. She hadn’t understood why God had allowed the sickness to overtake her. Why, if God was the great physician, hadn’t He answered her prayers and healed her?

Her father had assured her God did love her. That God was good. That sickness was a part of the human condition. Words that didn’t offer comfort to a twelve-year-old girl.

Her father had also told her to remember she’d see her mother again one day in Heaven. Corinna had clung to that thought. And as long as God kept her father safe, she could cling to Him, too.

But now her father was dead.

God had turned His back on her prayers. God had never loved her. She didn’t even know if there really was a Heaven. She had nothing to cling to anymore. Her faith had been shaken to the core.

The barn’s living quarters consisted of a loft space with a pullout sleeper sofa, TV, table and chair. Ben had stayed in the loft on numerous occasions when he’d first met Greg and had needed a place to stay until he could afford his apartment. A small refrigerator sat in one corner and a wood stove with a pipe chimney took up space in the middle of the loft.

As Ben lit the stove to warm up the loft, he said, “I really wish you’d reconsider staying here.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. He figured she was going for haughty, but all he saw was a woman close to the breaking point.

“This is my home. My life. I get to decide. I can understand your concern, really, I can. But you’ve taken precautions. There isn’t anything more you can do.”

Even though he’d made arrangements to have a guard posted on the property, he had a bad feeling about leaving Corinna here. He couldn’t take chances with Greg’s daughter’s life. She was his responsibility now. He would protect her, be there for her and guide her as best he could.

As best she’d let him.

He didn’t doubt that once the shock wore off, Corinna’s icy superiority would return to replace the vulnerability in her pretty eyes.

And short of hauling her in for some trumped-up charge, he really had no say in where she stayed.

Before leaving, he made sure she had her cell phone and his number on speed dial in case of an emergency.

“I’ll be fine.” She’d moved to stand at the top of the loft stairs, her arms crossed over her chest, looking as if she were trying to contain her grief. “You go do what you need to do to find my father’s killer and don’t worry about me.”

Easier said than accomplished. But he left her in the barn and headed to the house. Back inside the study, Ben’s gaze fell on the dark crimson spot tarnishing the thick rug.

Both Greg and the other man were gone. Greg to the morgue, the mystery guy to the hospital with Marvel and Daniel riding along. The two Rangers had instructions to stick close to the man in case he awoke and also to provide protection.

Ben didn’t want the assassin trying to finish the job before they could get information out of the man who might hold the key to Greg’s murder.

Ranger Anderson Michaels stepped to Ben’s side, his thunderous expression reflecting the rage gathering steam inside Ben. “No weapon. No fingerprints, no shoe prints outside, either.”

Ben grunted in response. “A professional hit. Do you know what case Greg was working?”

“No. Care to enlighten me?”

“Seems he didn’t share it with any of us. Must have been a new case.”

Anderson gave him a quick glance. “You didn’t know? That’s so…wrong.”

Ben shrugged back the hurt trying to worm its way into his consciousness.

“Yes, it’s wrong,” Trevor remarked as he joined them just inside the doorway of the study. Tall and lanky with blond hair graying at the temples, his blue eyes were hard as ice. “The captain should’ve kept us in the loop. He was too much of a one-man show.”

Ben fisted his hands and slowly turned to face Trevor. “Do not ever besmirch the captain again.”

Trevor held up his hands, palms facing out. “Hey, I’m just telling it like it is. Pike was a good captain, but he kept too much too close to the vest. We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Ben rolled the tension from his shoulders as he tried not to see the truth in Trevor’s words. Greg had kept information from the team on occasion.

One incident in particular came to mind. There had been a string of jewelry store heists across the state. Somehow, Greg had had a lead on one of the thieves. He’d staked out the guy’s house. Alone.

He’d captured the man and then called in the bust. A stash of jewels had been found on the premises and the thief turned on his cohorts.

The situation had ended well. But it could have gone terribly wrong. Greg had gone against protocol, risking his life and the investigation. His defense was that he’d worked alone to minimize the chances the guy would get spooked and flee.

This time, Greg’s holding back had cost him his life.

“I want a thorough search of the house,” Ben said, loud enough for them all to hear. “There has to be some clue as to why Greg was killed.”

“On it,” Anderson said and moved away.

Ben didn’t have to give further instruction. The team knew what to do.

Ben ignored Trevor’s sharp glance. Though they shared the rank of lieutenant, Trevor had transferred over from Company A last year, so he was fairly new to the team. He hadn’t been with the company nearly as long as Ben and, therefore, hadn’t earned the respect and loyalty needed to lead the team. Having a short temper hadn’t won him any points, either. Ben wondered if the man was as tightly wound with his wife and daughters as he was with his comrades.

Ben had met Trevor’s wife, Sarah Donovan, once, at the Christmas party last year. A quiet, pretty lady who had seemed to prefer to stay in the background than have attention centered on her. Ben had liked her. The verdict was still out on Trevor.

Several hours later, their search of the house hadn’t revealed anything. Still no closer to knowing what was going on, Ben left the crime scene techs to finish up at the Pike home and secured an SAPD officer to stand watch near the barn.

Ben headed to the hospital. Hopefully, their mysterious victim had awoken and could shed some light on the night’s events. He drove through the quiet streets of San Antonio, noting that on this late September night there was little traffic and the hospital parking lot was nearly empty.

After stopping by the administration desk where he was given directions, Ben made his way to the fourth floor. Daniel and Marvel stood guard in front of the closed door of their victim’s room.

“Hey, Ben,” Daniel greeted him.

“Has he awakened?” Ben asked.

Daniel’s eyes looked troubled. “No. Doc says the guy’s in a coma. He can’t predict when or if he’ll come out of it.”

Not the news Ben wanted to hear. Disappointment fed his anger. “I’ll contact SAPD and get around-the-clock guards on this guy. Until then, you two okay to stay?”

Marvel nodded. “I don’t have anyone waiting at home for me, so yeah, I can stay.”

“No hot dates tonight?” Daniel teased.

Marvel grinned, even white teeth flashing against his chocolate skin. “Nope. Free agent these days. But I do have my eye on a little filly I met in the park.”

Marvel was a real ladies’ man, but so far no woman had captured the marathon runner’s heart. “How about you, Daniel? You good to stay the night?”

Daniel shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

Ben nodded, knowing he could always count on the Ranger. Daniel came from wealth but chose to live a life dedicated to serving justice. A life that sometimes came with a price. For Daniel, that had been the loss of his marriage and estrangement from his son.

“When the uniforms show, you’re free to leave. We’ll convene in the morning at the office.” Ben pressed his lips together as a wave of sorrow hit. He wouldn’t be seeing Greg tomorrow. Not ever again.

Daniel put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “We’ll find the guy who did this.”

Ben wished he had the same confidence echoing in Daniel’s voice. He cleared his throat, forcing back his emotions. “Yeah. Call if anything develops.”

The sound of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum disturbed the quiet hallway. Ben turned to see a white-coated man in his mid-thirties approaching.

“Doctor Vargas,” Daniel said below his breath.

Ben stepped forward. The doctor came to a stop.

“Gentlemen, I see you’re still here,” the doctor said in a thick Spanish accent.

Ben stuck out his hand. “Ranger Fritz.”

“Doctor Ramon Vargas.” They shook hands.

“We’ll be arranging an around-the-clock guard detail for the man in this room,” Ben said.

The doctor’s dark eyebrows rose. “I thought he was a victim, not a criminal.”

“We don’t know what he is at this point. And until he wakes up, we’re sticking close.” Ben glanced at the door. “I’d like to see him.”

“I’m sure you’re aware he’s unconscious,” the doctor stated with a slight rebuff in his tone.

“I understand,” Ben said, his voice mild, but he held the man’s gaze, making it clear he’d have his way.

Doctor Vargas inclined his head. “Of course. Always willing to cooperate with the authorities.”

Something in the doctor’s voice snagged Ben’s attention. But the congenial expression on the man’s face belied any antagonism. Shrugging it off as trauma from the night’s events, Ben entered the hospital room.

The man lying on the bed was a Caucasian male, with shaggy black hair, pale skin. He looked to be about five foot ten in height with an average build. There was a slight scar under his left eye. No tattoos on his arms, which rested on the blanket covering his body. IVs and monitors were hooked up to the guy. He looked like he was peacefully sleeping.

Somewhere Ben had heard that people in comas could hear what was going on around them. Maybe he’d wake up if Ben talked to him. It was worth a shot.

Because at the moment, this man was the key to finding Corinna’s father’s murderer.

Ben moved to stand next to the bed and leaned in close. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not. My name’s Ben Fritz. I’m with the Texas Rangers. You should wake up now and tell us what happened.”

Ben waited. The man didn’t stir. Disappointment spiraled through him. Maybe it was too soon.

“I told you he was unconscious,” Doctor Vargas said from the foot of the bed.

“So you did. Any idea when he’ll wake up?”

The doctor gave him a droll look. “I’m not a psychic, Ranger Fritz. When his mind and body are ready to heal, they will.”

Ben nodded. “I pray it’s sooner rather than later.”

The doctor inclined his head and left the room. Ben followed him out.

“Keep me posted,” he said to Daniel and Marvel before leaving the hospital.

Fifteen minutes later Ben arrived at his apartment complex outside downtown San Antonio in the northern suburb of Hollywood Park. His one-bedroom apartment was on the second floor in the back overlooking the pool and hot tub. On cool evenings like this it was quiet, but in the summers, when the children were out of school, the noise level rose to deafening decibels. Ben didn’t mind.

He rather liked the sound of kids having fun as they played in the curved swimming pool and visited in the common area. Happy noises that stirred hope of one day having a family, a wife and children of his own. His dismal upbringing—orphaned by the drug trade at five and then bouncing around foster homes—could have squashed that dream, not to mention his occupation…but the hope of a family of his own still thrived.

Tonight, only the gurgle of the hot tub floated on the cool air as he made his way up the stairs. He entered his dark apartment and went to his bedroom to sit on the edge of the double bed. His numbed feelings slowly gave way to the grief and anguish of finding his captain murdered. Ben slipped from the bed to land on his knees.

Welling grief, sorrow and anger expanded in his chest until he thought he might explode. Silent sobs wracked his body. His heart throbbed with pain.

“I don’t understand, Lord. Why did this happen?”

Silence met his cry.

Ben dropped his face into his hands and wept for the man who had been the closest thing to a real, loving father that Ben had ever known. Greg had taken the time to teach Ben not only about law enforcement, specifically being a Ranger, but had taught him how to be a man. To be kind and fair yet never back down from the principles that they lived by. Greg had included Ben in his and Corinna’s family circle, small as it was.

He’d enjoyed and looked forward to many holidays spent together at the Pike house. Memories flittered across Ben’s mind. Though they’d exchanged gifts every year, for Ben the best gift of all had been the time spent with the Pikes. Though he and Corinna hadn’t had much of a relationship—she’d always been cool and aloof—he’d still enjoyed seeing her joy at the gifts her father abundantly gave her.

Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.

Holidays wouldn’t be the same. He didn’t know if Corinna would want to spend them with him. He doubted so since it would just be the two of them now. They didn’t know each other well. She barely tolerated him as it was. A hollow feeling filled the pit of his stomach.

He didn’t know how he was going to be able to keep his promise to Greg. He could only hope God would provide the way.

His cell rang, the shrill sound startling in the quiet. Hoping the call was a break in the case, Ben scrambled to pluck the device from the top of the dresser.

He pulled himself together and managed to answer without sounding like he’d been blubbering like a baby. “Fritz.”

“Hi, it’s me, Corinna.” Her soft, feminine voice sounded a bit shaky.

Concern flared. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…coping. You?”

He relaxed, letting the tension in his shoulders ease. “Coping is a good way to describe it.”

“How is the other vic…victim?”

His heart twisted to hear the catch in her voice. “He’s in a coma. I have guards posted outside his room.”

“You really think the killer will come after him again?”

“I do. I just pray he awakens soon and can tell us who we’re looking for.”

“I hope that, too. This whole night seems so surreal.”

Ben understood. He could only imagine how devastated she must be. Greg had always said Corinna was the ray of sunshine that made his world brighter even during the darkest cases. Ben’s chest squeezed. Who would Corinna bring sunshine to now?

Forcing himself to speak past the tightness constricting his throat, he said, “If you need anything, Corinna, you can count on all of the Rangers. We are your family now.”

A moment of silence filled the line. “Thank you. I’ll say good night now.”

“Good night.”

There’d been an undertone in her voice. Something different than he’d ever heard before. Anger? Hurt?

He smacked his head. She’d just lost her father. Of course she was hurting. They both were.

He vowed to do whatever it took to make the person responsible for their pain pay. Dearly.

THREE

Corinna stared at the bright blue numbers on the clock. 3:00 a.m. She couldn’t sleep. The nocturnal noises of the horses and other animals that made the barn their home kept her nerves stretched taut. Finally, she left the warmth of the pullout sofa and padded barefoot across the wood plank floor to the refrigerator hoping to find something inside to drink. She wasn’t really surprised to see the fridge empty. It had been a long time since anyone had stayed in the loft.

Maybe the officer outside would be willing to go inside and retrieve some snacks for her.

Slipping on her fuzzy blue slippers and feeling the weight of her “just in case” gun deep in the folds of one robe pocket and her cell phone in the other, she left the loft and made her way outside into the yard lit by the glow of a full moon. Gabby followed closely at her heels. Corinna didn’t see her guard. He must be positioned in a strategic place somewhere in the front of the house. She wished she’d thought to ask for his name so she could call out to him.

At the sliding glass door to the dining room, she hesitated. Ben had made it clear the house was an active crime scene and she wasn’t to go back inside.

But the crime had happened in the study, not the kitchen.

And she had no intention of going anywhere near where her father had died.

With resolve that she’d apologize later if need be, she entered the dining room, and Gabby darted past her into the dark house. Corinna hurried straight to the refrigerator. Since she was there, she decided to grab a bag of potato chips, her one junk food vice, as well as a carton of orange juice.

A noise disturbed the quiet of the house. Corinna jerked, nearly dropping the bag of chips even as her mind reassured her the noise was just her cat, Gabby.

Suddenly, she desperately wished she’d listened to Ben and gone to stay somewhere else.

But her father raised her not to be a coward.

She needed to stand on her own two feet.

Which meant facing things that went bump in the night. Especially when it was just her cat getting into who knew what.

She left her goodies on the kitchen counter and stepped toward the dark hall. “Gabby?”

A scraping sound came from behind the yellow-taped off, closed door of her father’s study. How had the cat found her way in there? Blood pounded in her ears. The last time she’d opened these doors, she’d been shot and then she’d found her father dead on the floor.

Refusing to allow the memories to paralyze her, she rushed out of the house the way she’d come in and hurried toward the patio doors. She skidded to a halt. The doors stood wide open. Corinna swallowed back her rising fear as she took out her cell and called Ben.

A man dressed in all black stepped out of the study onto the patio. Corinna screamed, hoping to alert the officer out front, and jammed her free hand into her pocket. The intruder turned toward her, his face awash in the moonlight. When he started toward her, she wrestled her weapon free, took aim and fired.

The shrill ring of a phone jolted Ben to consciousness from a troubled sleep. He still had difficulty coming to grips with the reality that Greg was gone. The ringing continued.

He jerked upright, his eyes quickly adjusting to his shadowy bedroom. The noise emanated from his lit-up cell on top of his dresser where he’d left it before climbing exhausted into bed. A quick glance at the red numbers on his bedside clock revealed the time, three-thirty in the morning.

That got his blood pumping. He flung the covers aside and reached the dresser in two long strides. He palmed the phone and checked the caller ID.

The call was coming from Corinna’s phone.

His heart slammed against his ribs. He pressed the talk button. “Corinna?”

“Come quick,” she said in a shaky voice. “I need you. Hey!”

The line went dead.

“Corinna!” he shouted into the silence.

She was in danger! Something had happened.

Pulse-pounding dread filled his veins. All sorts of horrible scenarios played across the screen in his mind. Was she hurt? Had Greg’s killer returned after all? Ben should have listened to his instincts.

With fear coiling low in his belly, he sent out a text alert to the Rangers at lightning speed, then quickly changed from his drawstring sleep shorts into jeans and a T-shirt. Grabbing socks, tennis shoes and his sidearm, he ran from the apartment with his keys dangling from his fist.

He drove barefoot, taking the curves and running the traffic lights across town to the Pike ranch, the whole while mentally thrashing himself for having acquiesced to Corinna’s insistence she stay at her house.

Guilt, ugly and feral, reared up to poke at his conscience. His actions may have put Corinna in harm’s way. He’d never forgive himself if she were hurt again.

He pulled his Jeep to a halt next to Corinna’s compact car and jumped out. Sharp bits of gravel dug into his bare feet but he ignored the pain. Lights lit up the house. He rushed to the front door and banged his fist against the wood. “Corinna!”

From his right, Corinna came tearing around the corner of the house, her dark hair flying loose around her shoulders, like a midnight cloud. She came to a skidding halt, her bare feet sliding slightly on the slick, dew-damp grass. Her eyes were wild and her body trembled violently beneath the plush softness of her pale blue robe.

She wasn’t dead. Relief nearly brought him to his knees. He vaulted off the porch and ran to her, drawing her close. She felt so brittle in his arms. His chest tightened with emotions he didn’t want to take the time to examine.

“What happened?” he asked. He eased her back to look at her. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, her long brunette hair cascading over her shoulders in waves. “No. I’m fine. A man broke in and searched my father’s office. What could he be looking for?”

His stomach dropped. She was still in danger. “I don’t know. Did you see him?”

She stepped out of his embrace. “I caught a glimpse of him as he ran out the patio doors. I shot at him but missed. The bullet zoomed past and hit the wall. I chased after him but…” She shrugged with self-deprecation. “He wasn’t encumbered with fuzzy slippers. Even barefoot, I couldn’t catch him. He climbed the pasture fence and took off. I was afraid to shoot at him again because of the horses.”

Not sure he heard correctly, he asked, “You shot at him? Then chased after him. What did you shoot with?”

“My gun, of course.” From the folds of her robe she produced a 3-inch barreled, .45 caliber Micro Compact pistol.

Ben raised his eyebrows. “You carry a weapon?” A moment of surrealism overtook him. Seeing her with the weapon was so incongruent with his idea of her. He quickly relieved her of the piece.

She sliced him a sardonic look. “Dad insisted I know my way around a handgun. He always said, ‘Just in case.’ Well, tonight was a ‘just in case’ kind of night.”

Ben couldn’t have agreed more. But he’d had no idea Greg had armed his daughter. And he hated that she’d had to use the weapon. “I assume you have a safe or lock box for this?”

“Of course. In my room. I’m just bummed I didn’t get the guy.” A pained expression tightened her features. “Or had it on me earlier!”

He shuddered at the thought of her confronting either assailant. And to chase after this one! What had she been thinking?

If this was the same culprit who’d killed her father, he could have easily shot at her again. Why hadn’t he? And where was the SAPD officer who’d been standing guard?

Ben decided he’d puzzle the questions out later. For now he had to stay focused on Corinna. This was his fault. He’d allowed her to be put in danger. He’d let his captain down.

Heart thudding in time with the pounding at his temple, he said, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you stay here.”

Hugging her robe around her middle, she said, “You didn’t have much say in the matter.”

His jaw tightened. He’d made the mistake once of letting her talk him into going against his better judgment. There wouldn’t be a repeat. Not on his watch.

Where was the police officer he’d had guarding her? “Did you see the SAPD officer?”

Her eyebrows pulled together. “I didn’t.”

The sound of squealing tires and car doors slamming announced the arrival of other Rangers.

Anderson Michaels thundered onto the porch. His blond hair was mussed and his sharp eyes were filled with concern. “You two okay?”

Ben nodded over the top of Corinna’s head. “She’s unhurt. Someone broke in and trashed the study. He ran out through the back patio doors. Like last time. The SAPD officer is missing.”

Pulling his weapon from the back of his sweatpants, Anderson said, “I’ll find him.” He hurried around the corner of the house.

Another car barreled into the driveway. Gisella stepped out of her vehicle and rushed forward. “What happened?” she asked.

He quickly explained the situation, then turned to Corinna. “You should go change. I want to take you to SAPD to look through mug shots. Maybe we’ve caught a break.”

“Good idea,” Corinna said as she stepped onto the porch.

“Gisella, go with her,” Ben ordered.

Corinna paused and threw an incredulous look over her shoulder at him. “I can manage changing my clothes on my own.”

Of course she could, but he hated the thought of her alone and unprotected. He refrained from insisting, telling himself she’d be fine. They were all within earshot of her. “Sorry. Of course.”

She stared at him for a moment with questions in her eyes before she fled inside.

He watched her go, anxious at having her out of his sight even for a brief moment.

Anderson returned, helping a semi-conscious officer along with him. He propped the still groggy man up on the porch. “Found him knocked out under a bush in the back.”

Gisella flipped open her phone. “I’ll call for a bus.”

“What could the perp be looking for?” Ben asked. “We searched the place after Greg was killed and didn’t find anything useful.”

Anderson ran a hand through his hair. “Beats me. But the guy trashed the study. I wonder if he got what he came for before Corinna chased him away?”

“I suggest we search through everything again,” Gisella said. “Though I have no idea what we’re looking for.”

“That’s the million dollar question,” Anderson replied.

Ben agreed. “You two take care of it. When the others arrive, explain what’s happening. I’ll take Corinna into the station.”

“She’s welcome to come to my place when you’re done,” Gisella said.

Relieved by the offer, Ben said, “I’ll go tell her to pack her bags.”

He entered the house and strode down the hall. Stopping in front of her closed door, he knocked.

“Yes?” Corinna replied.

“It’s me.”

The door opened. Corinna had changed into black leggings, a long tunic-style red blouse and flat sandals that emphasized the delicate structure of her feet. She’d braided her hair off to one side. Her pale complexion set off her wide, dark eyes. She was so petite and fragile-looking that Ben wanted to wrap her once again in his arms and shield her from the world.

Whoa! That was not what Greg had entrusted her to him for.

Ben didn’t generally react in such a touchy-feely manner. Not even the few girlfriends he’d had over the years had elicited such a knee-jerk need in him to protect them the way Corinna did. But there was something about Corinna which evoked the response. Something he didn’t understand.

He’d better get a handle on his attraction, his weakness for her. She was off-limits. Greg had made that clear. Ben would never dishonor Greg.

He stayed in the doorway. “You’ll need to pack your bags. You can stay with Gisella until we catch this guy,” he said, more brusquely than he’d intended.

She arched a winged eyebrow. “You’re really going to tell me what to do?”

Didn’t she understand her life was in danger? “Your safety is paramount.”

Her eyes flashed. “No. Finding my father’s killer is the priority.”

He allowed a wry smile to tip the corner of his mouth. “Both are a priority. Solving your father’s murder could take months unless we catch a break. Right now you are our best lead, which makes you a target. So the most pressing issue at this precise second is getting you somewhere safe.”

Corinna considered his words, and then conceded his point with a slight incline of her head and a droop to her shoulders. “Fine. I’ll pack a bag.”

When he didn’t make a move to leave the room, she came to stand in front of him. “I’m safe now. You and the others are here. There’s no need for you to be so worried.”

He captured her hands and held them. “I can’t help it. If anything happens to you, I will never forgive myself.”

Though she was sure she knew the answer, she asked anyway, “Why do you care so much?”

Two little creases formed between his eyebrows. “Because you’re Greg’s daughter. He’s gone. It’s up to me to protect you.”

Unreasonable disappointment rushed over her. “Why you, specifically? Why not pass me off to one of the others?”

For a second, confusion darkened his hazel eyes. “I have to pass you off, as you say, to Gisella. For propriety’s sake.”

Hearing him confirm he was taking her protection personally gave her an unexpected thrill. She shouldn’t want his attention but she did. And knowing that he wanted not only to keep her safe, but to guard her reputation made tenderness tingle in her heart. “That’s very old-fashioned of you. I’m sure my father would be proud.”

Sadness crept into his expression. “Your father taught me a lot about values. And about faith. He was a great man.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She just wished her father had wanted to spend more time with her. Instead, he’d spent time with Ben. The old hurt throbbed. She withdrew her hands. “That still doesn’t explain why you feel as though you have to be responsible for my safety. I’m sure any of the others would do just as well.”

The corners of his mouth tightened slightly. “Greg asked me to look after you if anything should happen to him.”

“Ah.” Understanding smacked her upside the head. So she was his obligation. How idiotic of her to have harbored any thought he was taking such a personal interest for other reasons.

She was glad he’d put up the barrier between them. She’d let him protect her, while she protected her heart.

Quickly, she gathered her necessary belongings into a couple of tote bags, the only thing she’d need to get was a toothbrush since she left hers out in the barn, and followed Ben out of the house to his Jeep.

“Oh, wait!” she said when she saw Gabby on the porch. Scooping up the feline, she turned to Gisella. “Is it okay if Gabby comes to your house as well?”

Gisella grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m allergic to cats.”

“Then my staying with you won’t work.” Corinna bit her lip. She could stay at the Miriam shelter she volunteered at, but as soon as the thought formed she rejected it. She wouldn’t take a bed away from someone in need. “I could ask Susan or Felicia if I could stay with them.”

“I don’t think putting your friends in danger is a good idea,” Ben said.

He was right, of course. She had no family left, no one to turn to. She was alone. The need to move, to dance, washed through her like a rogue wave. Only when she was dancing did she feel whole and in control. Agitation revved through her veins, her foot began to bounce. “I can stay at the dance studio. There’s a couch in the locker room and I’m sure Madame wouldn’t mind if Gabby’s there.”

Ben frowned. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Then a pet-friendly hotel will have to do.”

“I’d rather you stayed with Gisella. I’ll take the cat.”

Surprised, Corinna stared at him. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ll take care of…”

“Gabby.”

“Right. Gabby. I can have pets in my apartment.”

She didn’t even know where he lived, let alone why he’d offer, but she’d take it. “Thank you. Her food, dish and litter box are in the laundry room.”

Relief softened Ben’s jaw. “That’s settled then. After we go to the station house, I’ll take you to Gisella’s.”

Corinna glanced at the female Ranger. “You’re kind to offer. Are you sure I wouldn’t be putting you out?”

Gisella smiled. “Not at all. I’m between roommates at the moment. The second bedroom is furnished and unoccupied.”

“It’s a good plan,” Ben said, taking one of Corinna’s hands and squeezing. “Stay with Gisella. You’ll be safe there.”

Safe.

His hazel eyes implored her to accept the offer. Part of her wanted to rebel, wanted to say no, she was strong enough, brave enough to stay here regardless of the danger. She didn’t need their help. But she really wasn’t foolish, either. She nodded.

After gathering her cat’s belongings and stowing them away in the back of the Jeep, Ben drove them to the San Antonio Police station.

This early in the morning, with the first streaks of sunrise appearing on the horizon, the green glass and yellow-sided police department building was lit up from within. Crime didn’t sleep and neither did the night shift officers.

After identifying himself, Ben explained the situation to the navy-and-gold-uniformed desk sergeant. They were led to a vacant desk in the belly of the bustling department.

“Have a seat,” the sergeant said. “I’ll bring you the books for the past five years.”

“Perfect,” Ben said as he held out a chair for Corinna.

She took a seat on the padded task chair while Ben grabbed a nearby metal folding chair, turned it around, and straddled the seat, looking directly at her. His gaze searched her face. The way he studied her was a bit unnerving. He’d been staring ever since they’d left her home.

If her dad hadn’t been killed, she’d have been amused by Ben’s overbearing way of ordering her to Gisella’s. She usually didn’t take to such high-handed behavior. But her father had been murdered and the recent break-in freaked her out.

The shot she’d fired off still had her ears ringing, and truth be told she was scared and feeling vulnerable. The intruder could have returned to kill her instead of searching for something. Ben had said the Rangers didn’t know what the guy had been seeking. Neither did she.

“Here we go,” the sergeant said, depositing a stack of five photo albums on the metal desktop in front of Corinna.

Each album was three inches thick. She flipped open the cover of the top one. The page was filled with small, square photos. There were hundreds of pictures to go through. It would be like looking for a viper in a pit full of every kind of snake imaginable. Her face must have betrayed her dismay at the enormity of the task facing her.

“I know this seems daunting, but take your time. Scan the photos. If anyone looks remotely familiar let me know,” Ben said.

She nodded and settled herself to the task. An hour and five books later, she finally shook her head. “I don’t know, Ben. He could be any number of these guys.”

Disappointment seeped into her tone, but she couldn’t help it. She’d so wanted to find the person responsible for her father’s death. She wished she could simply point a finger to a photo and, presto, have their killer.

Ben put his hand on her arm. “Don’t beat yourself up about this. You’re tired. Maybe we can have you work with a sketch artist. Paige is great at coaxing details from people’s subconscious. I’ll have her drive over from Austin.”

“I’ll try anything,” Corinna said, willing to do whatever it took to find her father’s killer.

Ben rose. “Tomorrow after you’ve had some rest.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get you to Gisella’s.”

She slipped her hand into his engulfing grip and allowed him to help her to her feet. His fingers locked firmly around hers. Their palms meshed together, sending waves of sensation up her arm to settle in the vicinity of her heart. There was no denying her attraction to Ben.

Old hurt and anger tightened her breathing. She still remembered the day he’d walked into her life thirteen years ago. He’d been a lanky, somewhat surly nineteen-year-old who’d embodied all her teenage dreams. Until she’d realized he wasn’t leaving. Then she’d come to resent him for invading her family. For taking her father’s attention away. For being the son she couldn’t be.

She jerked her hand free, ignoring his confused expression as she preceded him out of the police station into the still-dark and temperate morning air.

Attraction couldn’t counteract all the years of resentment piled up in her heart like old moldy blankets, smothering in its intensity and weighing down any wayward, unwanted yearnings.

In the grand scheme of her life, giving in to her attraction to Ben would only bring her more pain.

She had to remember that.

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