Lone Star Christmas Witness Page 2
“No. It was the first one removed. Let’s go to your office.” He gestured to the room filled with file cabinets.
Sierra nodded. As she made her way there, she averted her face and wiped the wet tracks from her cheeks. She couldn’t even bring herself to ask about Ben. She’d helped raise her seven-year-old nephew since he was born, especially while Kathleen was a resident with long hours then when she started the clinic. For his first few years, Sierra’s life had revolved around him.
As Texas Ranger Blackburn closed the door, she leaned against her desk to help support her. A huge lump clogged her throat, and she gulped—several times—before she felt she could ask him the question she’d never thought she would say. “My nephew, Ben, was here with his mom. Is he—”
The Texas Ranger closed the space between them, his green eyes softening. “Ben is the only person who survived.”
At first, she thought she hadn’t heard correctly. She started to question him, but his look of compassion gave her hope. “How?”
“He hid in a cupboard in your sister’s office. Most likely the shooter didn’t know he was there.”
Opposite emotions—happiness for Ben and a deep sadness for Kat—assailed her. She shut her eyes and tried to compose her thoughts. “Where is he? Can I see him?”
“Soon. First, you and I need to talk.”
“But he has to be frightened. What has he said?”
“Nothing. Since I took him from the cupboard, he hasn’t cried or said anything.”
“He’s in shock.”
“Yes, and we have someone with him right now.” He gestured toward a chair nearby. “Sit. Let’s talk. The child psychologist I called will be through soon.”
Everything around Sierra vanished, and all she saw was the law enforcement officer, taking a seat across from her. How had she ended up sitting down? She didn’t even remember doing that. She had to be dreaming. Any moment she would wake up and see Kathleen and Ben.
“Ms. Walker, are you okay?” Concern laced the Texas Ranger’s deep voice.
She blinked, and reality zoomed into focus. “No. What do you want to ask me? I want to be with Ben as soon as possible. He has to feel...” As numb and lost as I am?
“Were you at the clinic at any time this morning?”
“No. I left our house and went right to an eight o’clock meeting with the clinic’s accounting firm. The meeting was over at ten thirty, and I came straight here.”
“What’s the name of the accounting firm?”
For a few seconds, she became defensive, her hands curling into a ball. How in the world could he think she might have something to do with the killings? She cared for everyone at the clinic, especially Mindy, and her sister had been more like a mother to her since their mom died when Sierra was twelve.
“Jones Smith Accounting. We’ve been a client for the past five years. Zachery Jones was the partner I met with this morning. He’ll verify I was there between eight and ten thirty.”
The Texas Ranger wrote down the information she gave him, then glanced up.
She rose partway. “Now can I see Ben?”
“I know this is hard, but I have a few more questions. Have there been any threats against the clinic or one of the employees recently?”
She sat back down, trying to remember, but her mind felt as though it were on overload. She shook her head. “I don’t think...” Something nagged at her, but the thought stayed at the back of her mind, vague and muddy.
“What is it?” the Texas Ranger prompted.
She tried to focus, rubbing her forehead, and then she recalled. “It was last summer. There was a father who blamed Dr. Porter for his daughter’s death, but he was grieving at the sudden turn of events. Dr. Porter did everything he could.”
“Who?”
“I’d have to look back through the files.”
“Anyone else?”
“Another patient was mad because he was still in pain and wanted more medication. My sister wouldn’t write a prescription. She’s especially careful about that because of the opiate crisis. That situation happened last month. The guy’s name was Bruce Lockhart.” Tension pounded against her temples. Her nerves were stretched so tight she wondered if they would snap in two. “I can’t think of anyone else right now. I need to look through the appointment log and possibly the records. But even then, I might not be able to come up with more. I work all day in here, and don’t have a lot to do with the patients. Something could have happened, and I might not know about it.” She paused. “Although Mindy usually kept me informed, even about the employees’ personal life, but nothing to warrant this.”
“Are the doors to the clinic kept locked until it opens?”
“Yes. It gives the staff time to meet if needed.”
“Who has a key to the building?”
“I do. Also my sister, Dr. Porter and Colin Brewer. He’s a nurse and he’s been here from the beginning. Everyone who has a key also has the alarm system code. After the employees who don’t have a key arrive, the front door is locked until it’s time to open.”
He wrote down the names, the lines on his face deepening. “Where is Ben’s father?”
When Sierra thought about Kalvin and what he’d done, she couldn’t help but frown. “He left Kathleen a few months after Ben was born. He gave her full custody and walked away. He’s never contacted her. The last she knew he was overseas. That was a couple of years ago.”
“What does he do?”
“I don’t know. He was in security. That’s what he called it.”
“What is Ben’s father’s name?”
“Kalvin Markham.”
“When you say overseas, where?”
“The Middle East. I got the impression he moved around a lot.” Sierra massaged her temples, trying to rid her head of the increasing pain.
“What kind of arrangements did your sister have for Ben if anything happened to her?”
The conversation she and Kathleen had several years ago flooded her thoughts. She hadn’t wanted to discuss the issue, but her older sister had insisted. Kat had been practical about things while Sierra had wanted to avoid the what-ifs. She’d learned to live for the moment, although with her job and her part in Ben’s life that had been changing.
“I’m Ben’s guardian if anything happened to Kathleen. She has a will leaving everything to her son, with me being the executor of her will and his trustee until Ben turns twenty-one. She wanted to make sure Kalvin could never get ahold of her money, especially now that she was an established doctor.”
“How long has this clinic been open?”
“Five years.” She was done answering questions. She needed to see for herself that Ben was alive. She needed to hold him. “I’m sorry, but right now, I want to see my nephew. I don’t want him to think something happened to me, too.”
“Yes, I understand. We can continue this conversation later. I have some information to help me proceed with the investigation. I’ll be working with the SAPD on this case.” He rose. “The child psychologist should be through talking to Ben by now.”
Sierra grasped the arms of the chair and pushed herself to a standing position, her legs feeling as though she’d just finished a marathon run carrying twenty-pound weights. Following the Texas Ranger from her office, she kept her eyes forward, doing her best to avoid looking at Dr. Porter’s body. She was thankful two officers were blocking her view this time.
Texas Ranger Blackburn clasped the knob to one of the exam rooms. “Ben’s in here, and I would like him to remain here until all the bodies are removed. Dr. Porter is the last one. The child psychologist is Dr. John Yates.”
How did this officer deal with something like what happened at the clinic and remain so composed? She wanted to fall apart and cry until there was nothing left in her. But for Ben’s sake, she couldn’t.
Nothing.
She stroked his back, something she did when he was upset. “Ben, we’ll be able to leave here in a few minutes.”
Still not a word.
She glanced over her shoulder at the child psychologist. He signaled he wanted to talk with her outside in the hall. “I love you, Ben. I’ll be right back.”
She stepped outside with the man while the Texas Ranger stayed in the exam room. “Did he say anything to you?”
Dr. Yates shook his head. “No. Not one word. I was with him forty-five minutes. When he’s upset, does he refuse to talk?”
“Never. He can talk your ear off. What does this mean?”
“It’s possible he has traumatic muteness.”
“Will he ever talk again?”
“Hopefully. But he’s witnessed a horrific crime,” Dr. Yates said. “He was hiding in a cabinet. Your sister most likely put him there and told him not to say a word.”
Sierra paced toward the reception area, spied the bloodstain on the floor and turned back around. “What can we do, Dr. Yates? We’ve got to help him.”
“Please call me John. I would like to work with him.”
“Yes, anything to help him cope with this.” She couldn’t imagine what her nephew was going through. She was an adult, and she was struggling to deal with what happened to Kat.
“For the first couple of sessions, I’d like to come to his house. I’m hoping a familiar place will help him. I will tell you he didn’t curl up into a ball until Taylor left the room to talk to you.”
“Have you worked with Texas Ranger Blackburn before?”
“Yes, whenever a child is involved in a case. Now, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to have our first session today. From what Taylor told me, Ben’s the only one who might have seen or heard something that could help the case. In fact, perhaps it would be best if Taylor was at the session, too.”
“Anything you think will help Ben and find the killer. Holding it inside only makes the situation worse.” She’d found that out the hard way when as teenager she’d kept a secret that ate at her soul until she finally turned to the Lord with her sister’s help. Kat was the only other person who knew about it.
“Good.” John swung around and opened the door to the exam room.
When she went inside, Ben sat on the edge of the exam bed, his legs hanging down. His chin rested on his chest, but he wasn’t in a ball like before. Taylor Blackburn leaned against the piece of furniture next to Ben as if he was in deep thought.
“Ben, I want to take you home. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry. We can stop and get some hamburgers at your favorite place. Okay?”
Her nephew lifted his head and nodded once, then returned his stare to the floor.
For a moment, panic set in. She wasn’t prepared to take her sister’s place and become Ben’s full-time caregiver. What if I make a mistake? Lord, I need help. Where do I start?
She kept her focus on God, and slowly calmness overtook the anxiousness. Sierra held out her hand. “Let’s go home.”
Ben took it and slid off the exam table, the whole time still staring at the floor. At the door, her nephew spun around and threw himself at Taylor, clinging to him. The Texas Ranger’s eyes widened, connecting with hers. Ben’s reaction confirmed what Dr. Yates had pointed out, that Taylor had a calming effect on her nephew. That made sense to her. In Ben’s eyes, Taylor had saved him when he found him hiding in Kat’s office.
She clasped one of Ben’s shoulders. “Let’s go home.”
Her nephew released his hold and stepped away from Taylor with hesitation. Ben took Sierra’s hand but kept his gaze on Taylor. What was she supposed to do? She tried to remember what she’d felt when her mother died.
She headed toward the front exit, trying her best to block Ben’s view of the bloodstains on the reception floor. As she reached to pull the door open, Taylor and John appeared right behind them.
“We’ll follow you to your house,” Taylor said as he opened the door for them and they left the clinic.
Relief blanketed her. “Thanks.”
In the short time she had been inside, the crowd outside had doubled, and more media had arrived. She hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t want to talk to a reporter, nor did she want Ben to be questioned by them.
As they neared the barricades, Taylor came around her. “I’ll take the lead. You don’t have to talk to the press. In fact, I’d recommend you don’t.”
“I’m not going to.” The eagerness she glimpsed on the reporters’ faces made her feel as though she was the prey and they were waiting to devour her to get their story.
“Where’s your car?”
“It’s the red Mustang to the right down the street.”
“Good. It’s not that far from my SUV.”
Two police officers moved the barricade, so they could leave. As they plunged into the crowd, Sierra and Ben were immediately surrounded by reporters shouting questions at them, a lot of them holding microphones while cameramen angled for a good shot of her and her nephew. Panic shot through her at the thought the whole world would see their picture on the news—and realize Ben survived the attack.
As she dodged the media, she wondered how in the world she was going to protect Ben from his memories of today—and from the killer.
TWO
Taylor pulled in behind Sierra’s car that she’d driven into the garage, while Dr. Yates parked along the curb. On his trip here, Taylor had checked Sierra’s alibi and the accounting firm had confirmed her presence and the time she left that morning. He hadn’t thought she was the killer, but he’d learned to check every lead out.
In fact, the interviews with both of them had been difficult for him, especially Ben’s. The little boy with brown hair and eyes reminded him of his deceased son. TJ had died from cancer at the age of six over three years ago. He’d left a hole in Taylor’s heart that he’d never been able to fill. Months after his son’s death, Taylor had been accepted as a Texas Ranger after serving as a Texas State Trooper. He’d thrown himself into the job as though that would cover the pain of his loss. It hadn’t. That was why he preferred working from behind a computer rather than in the field. At least until a few months ago. Working a case with Texas Ranger Dallas Sanders involving kidnapped babies had made him realize he couldn’t hide forever.
When he realized he was gripping the steering wheel so hard pain shot up his arms, he pried his fingers loose and slid from his vehicle. He bridged the distance to Sierra, holding her car door open while Ben slowly crawled from the back seat. As he straightened, Ben glanced up at Taylor. The look of terror in the child’s eyes reminded him of when TJ had gone for his first chemo treatment. Taylor hadn’t been able to protect his son then. He intended to protect Ben now. He wasn’t helpless in this situation. He’d find the murderer.
When John Yates joined them, Sierra put the garage door down and walked with her hand on Ben’s shoulder to the porch of the two-story, adobe-styled home. Taylor hung back and surveyed the surroundings. No one had followed them to the house, but it wouldn’t have been hard for the killer to figure out where Dr. Markham lived with her sister and son. There was still a possibility the shooting was random, but more likely it wasn’t. So, what motivated the person to kill six people? If he could answer that, it would be a lot easier to find the shooter.
Taylor was the last one to enter the Markham home. He locked the door behind him and faced Sierra across the foyer. Her long, curly strawberry blond hair reminded him of a setting sun striking the mountains in Big Bend National Park. But what really dre
w his attention were her big brown eyes with long, dark eyelashes, filled with pain from losing a loved one. That look drew him. In the past nine years, he’d gone through the same kind of sorrow twice. He felt a connection with her, which surprised him because he worked hard to keep himself walled off. He couldn’t deal with that kind of pain for a third time.
Sierra tore her gaze away from his. “We should go into the kitchen.” She led the way down a hall, and when she entered the room, she gestured toward the table in a nook with a bay window overlooking the fenced backyard. While they were all settled except her, she asked, “What would you like to drink? We have sweet tea, water and milk, but if you would like coffee, I can make some.”
“Sweet tea is fine for me,” Taylor said while John nodded. He rose and strolled to the counter next to the refrigerator as Sierra opened the door. “Here, let me help you. Where are the glasses?”
“The cabinet in front of you.” Her hand shaking, she immediately set the pitcher on the ceramic tiles.
Taylor leaned close to her. “You have enough to do. The least I can do is take care of this. Go sit down.”
“Thanks.”
He quickly filled the glasses, set them on the table and returned the pitcher to the refrigerator. When he took his seat between Ben and John, he looked up into Sierra’s brown eyes across the table, glimpsing a sadness he was all too familiar with.
After John finished chewing a bite of his hamburger, he said, “Ben, this is fantastic. Now I see why this is your favorite place to get a burger.”
The boy kept his head down while eating his food.
Taylor fixed his attention on Ben. “Dr. Yates, I agree with you. This is great.”
The child slid his glance to Taylor for a fleeting few seconds.
John nodded at Taylor, a signal they had talked about earlier. If Ben wasn’t responding to John, his friend wanted Taylor to ask a few questions and see what response he could get from the traumatized boy.
Over the years Taylor had interviewed a lot of victims and witnesses, but in this case, he felt the weight of what he was doing. He wasn’t a child psychologist, but at least John was here to guide him.