Shattered Silence: Men of the Texas Rangers Series #2 Read online

  He followed the lilac scent to the interview room and entered last, shutting the door. “Mr. Martinez, I’m Ranger Jackson.” He shook hands with Pedro’s father then took a seat across from the boy. “I don’t want to keep you long, but I do have a few questions for you, Pedro. Actually I need your help. Do you think you can help me?”

  The young boy’s eyes grew round, and he straightened in his chair, his shoulders thrust back. “Yes, sir. I’ll try.”

  “Tell me what you did, what you saw right before you found the woman. Why did you think your sister was in that house?”

  Pedro grinned for a second before he realized his father was frowning at him. He sobered and cleared his throat, slanting a glance at his dad next to him. “I peeked and saw her going that way when she was hiding.”

  “But there are a lot of places she could hide near the house. Why did you think she was inside?”

  With another look at his father, Pedro squirmed in the chair. “Lately I’ve been . . .” He fell silent.

  “What? It’s okay. You can tell me anything. I have a son not too much older than you.”

  “I’ve been teasing Maria about how scared she is of everything, especially the abandoned house.” Pedro stared at a spot halfway between him and Cody. “I told her I don’t play with babies. I knew she would go hide in the house.” The boy angled toward his father. “I didn’t know anything bad was gonna happen. I would never have let her go there.”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t have. Big brothers protect their little sisters,” Cody said to ease the tension that was building between father and son without a word being spoken.

  Pedro returned his attention to Cody. “Yeah.”

  “When you went looking for Maria, did you see anyone or anything out of the ordinary? Think carefully about it. Sometimes a seemingly small detail can lead us to the killer.”

  “Really?” Pedro tilted his head to the side, squinting, his gaze directed to an area behind Cody. “There was some dust stirred up near the road. I glanced toward the area, and I think I saw the back of a black pickup.”

  “Still in the field?”

  He nodded his head, his brow furrowed.

  Cody caught Liliana’s gaze. He could see her taking that bit of information and running through the trucks she’d seen in town lately. “Are you sure?”

  “I think so. Ask Brady. He was with me. He’s my best friend. He lives two streets over from me. We play all the time in that field.”

  “Not anymore,” Mr. Martinez said, his frown permanently carved into his features.

  “But, Papa, we have a fort out there.”

  “We’ll talk later about this.”

  Although earlier in his interview Brady didn’t say anything about a black truck, Cody said, “I’ll talk with your friend again. See if he saw that, too.” He would speak with the child in a couple of days. He might remember something else by then. “Pedro, do you know the kind of truck it was?”

  “No, but it looked old, a smaller one. My uncle has a big Ford 150.”

  “Did you see anything else?”

  “No—except that lady.” Pedro’s eyes glazed over as if he were revisiting the scene in his mind. He shivered and folded his arms over his chest. “I—I didn’t get a good look. I saw her and ran. I thought someone could still be in the house. I’ve seen TV.”

  “Did you see anything as you were leaving?”

  “Nope. I was running too fast. I beat Brady back to my house. I was way ahead of him.”

  “If you think of anything else, please let me know.” He slid his card across the table toward the pair. “That has my cell number on it. Remember in police work even the smallest detail may be important.”

  Before his father could snatch the card, Pedro pocketed it. “I’ll remember. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “How long have you been a Texas Ranger?”

  “Seven years.”

  “Do you ever ride horses?”

  “Sometimes when we’re after a criminal and the terrain is too rough for a vehicle.”

  “I want to learn to ride.”

  “Son, I think we’ve taken up enough of this man’s time. Let the police do their job. I want to take Maria home.” Mr. Martinez pushed to his feet, his shoulders drooping.

  Pedro left the room with Liliana. Mr. Martinez swung around in the entrance and blocked Cody’s exit. “My children have cooperated with you, but they don’t know anything. I want that to be made clear so nobody comes after them. Don’t expect anything else. They have told you all they can.” He pivoted and strode away from Cody.

  He caught up with the man. “I can have a patrol car—”

  Scowling, Mr. Martinez halted. “No. I protect my own. Having the police around only tells the world my kids know something about the killer.”

  He continued his quick pace toward his family, brushed past Liliana, and herded his wife and children out the door. Liliana watched them leave, then covered the distance between them.

  “Mr. Martinez was upset. Did you say something to him?”

  “You don’t think it’s enough that both of his children are involved in a murder case?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Cody’s cell rang, the sound cutting off her words. He took it out of his pocket and saw it was his home number. “I have to take this. Excuse me.” He turned his back on the detective and moved a few feet away from her. “Yes, Kyle.”

  “Where are you? I thought you would be back by now. I’m starved.”

  “I’m at the Durango Police Station.”

  “How long does it take to introduce yourself?”

  “There has been a murder.”

  “Just great. I don’t know anyone here, and you’re gonna be gone a lot now.”

  Patience. I’ve taken him away from all he’s known. I hope for a fresh start. “You’ll be enrolling in school soon. You’ll have plenty to do after that.”

  “I can’t wait. You could have said no to the assignment, then I wouldn’t be stuck out in the middle of nowhere.”

  Cody gripped his cell until his hand ached. He’d asked for the position, much to the surprise of his captain. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Click.

  Inhaling a calming breath did nothing to relieve the tension coursing through him. He needed to remember his son had lost his mother recently and been uprooted from the only home he’d known. He hadn’t shared with Kyle his own part in the transfer. But after a police officer had brought Kyle home one evening, he’d known he needed to do something. Kyle had been riding around with a group of “friends” from high school—there was some drinking. Kyle had been one of the teens drinking.

  Cody stuffed his cell into his pocket and took his time facing Liliana, schooling his expression into a neutral one. “Sorry about that.”

  “Everything all right?”

  “Just my son wondering where I am.”

  “A move can be hard on a family.”

  “Yeah. He especially isn’t thrilled that he’s stuck at home unpacking by himself.”

  Liliana chuckled. “I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t be either. If you need to leave, I’m perfectly capable of taking things from here.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Irritated that he was being dismissed so casually, he strode toward the police chief’s office and knocked.

  As the man called came in, Cody peered over his shoulder and caught the detective drilling him with an intense look. He was determined he would do his job to the best of his ability, and if it meant upsetting a certain young detective, so be it. He pushed open the door.

  Police Chief Don Winters rose and shook Cody’s hand. “Welcome to Durango. I just returned from trying to soothe our mayor. What is your assessment of the murder today?” He gestured toward a chair in front of his desk.

  Cody sat. “I think it’s likely the killer knew his victim. It’s possible she’s an illegal alien. For that matter
, the man who murdered her could be a coyote responsible for bringing her into this country. He may not even live around here. Maria Martinez, the little girl found in the house, said something about an evil eye, that he wore a tan cowboy hat and spoke rapid Spanish. Detective Rodriguez wasn’t aware of any gangs in this area with a tattoo similar to an eye.”

  “So you think it’s a tattoo?”

  “Maybe.”

  “This isn’t even your official first day and you’re knee-deep in murder. I hope you’ll help us. We’ll be a man short in two days.”

  “I’ll help any way I can. I’ve got a feeling there’s more to this murder. It’s possible it’s connected to a smuggling ring so we may be coordinating with ICE. Have there been any illegal aliens recently found dead anywhere in the area?”

  “No. For the past few months, things have been quiet. I should have realized it wouldn’t last. My other detective is going on vacation Monday for two weeks. We can use all the help we can get.”

  But will Liliana Rodriguez feel that way? “How long has Detective Rodriguez been a detective?”

  “Three years. She had a good working relationship with Ranger Garcia.”

  Cody came to his feet. “I’ll be heading back out to the crime scene to do a walk-through before going home.”

  Chief Winters rose and followed him to the door. Out in the main room he waved his hand toward the detective. Liliana said something to a man dressed in blue coveralls, then sauntered toward them.

  “Juan was telling me about his nephew. He’s on the high school baseball team. Made a home run last night at the game. My brother is on that team. I’m glad to hear they finally won.”

  “My grandson says it’s just a streak of bad luck that’s broken now.” The chief pointed to Liliana then Cody. “You two will be working together on the murder case. We need to get that woman identified. If you can’t find anything in our database, turn it over to ICE.”

  “Will do, Chief.” After he left, Liliana asked, “How do you want to handle this?”

  He knew exactly what she was getting at, but he needed to establish a good working relationship with her. “As a partner. I understand yours is leaving on vacation soon. I’m new in town and will have to learn the area. I hope I can count on you.”

  The corners of her mouth stretched into a smile, but he saw strain in the facial gesture. “Sure,” she mumbled in a tone that implied as long as he behaved himself and didn’t butt in where he shouldn’t.

  “I’m going back to the scene for a walk-through. The last time my attention was focused on finding either the little girl or the killer.”

  “My partner is still out there. He called to tell me they are almost through processing the scene. He has taken a ton of photos and notes for us to review. The body has been transported to the ME. They’re going to canvas the neighborhood near the field to see if anyone saw something. Can I hitch a ride? My car is at the house.”

  “Sure,” he repeated her word with confidence from years of working with local law enforcement in a compatible relationship. “Let’s go.” As he headed toward his SUV in the parking lot, he asked, “Do you think they’ll turn up anything from canvassing the neighborhood?”

  “It’s standard procedure that needs to be done, but no, I don’t think they will. I believe the black pickup Pedro saw was the getaway car. That dirt road doesn’t run close to the neighborhood.”

  “And it’s a bumpy one.”

  She looked at him and genuinely smiled. “Yes. It has been raining this past month for a change. The ruts were small ditches. We might be better forging our own path off-road.”

  “I might take you up on that.”

  “I’m flattered you’re going to listen to me.” She opened his passenger door and climbed inside.

  After he settled behind the steering wheel, he shot her a long, assessing look. “When I said we’ll be partners, I meant it. I don’t know Durango and especially the Hispanic population. I’ll need your help.”

  “May I remind you of that when we disagree?”

  “What if we don’t?”

  “My experience tells me we will, Ranger Jackson.” She flashed him another smile that reached deep into her dark brown eyes framed with long black eyelashes.

  “Please, call me Cody, Liliana.” Her name rolled off his tongue with ease as if he’d been saying it for years. That surprised him. After his divorce, he’d poured what life he had into his job.

  When he reached the turnoff to the vacant house, he started down the dirt road, jostling him and Liliana as though they were on the back of a bull in a rodeo. He turned his four-wheel drive SUV off the path that looked as if it had been bombed repeatedly and headed across the field toward the crime scene.

  Liliana held onto the vehicle as they bounced over the terrain. “I don’t know which is worse, the road or this.”

  “The grass and weeds are deceptive. I think it’s a toss-up.” She laughed, the sound easing some of his tensed muscles that gripped the steering wheel. “A lot of things in this life are deceptive.”

  He brought the SUV to a stop behind the house and to the left of it. He threw her a look that remained fastened on her olive complected face, those dark eyes snaring him. “A cynic at the age of what? Twenty-six?”

  “I’ll have you know I am twenty-eight and those two extra years have given me a world of insight into the human psyche.”

  “Wait until you’re thirty-eight then tell me that.”

  “Age has nothing to do with cynicism.”

  “I agree. I think it’s the kind of profession we are in.” He opened his car door.

  “We do see the dark side of human nature.”

  He glanced back as she exited his SUV. “Which makes it even more important to balance seeing that dark side with light.”

  “Not alcohol?”

  “I know some cops who do. It doesn’t solve the problem, just masks it and makes it worse.” He thought of his dad, then his son caught drinking with his friends. Only because the officer had known Cody had he brought his son home instead of to jail.

  “We do have something we agree on.” She strode toward the front of the house.

  He fixed his gaze on the yellow crime scene tape flapping in the wind. Maybe Durango would be more interesting than he’d originally thought. The first day certainly had proven to be.

  I look through the binoculars at the medium-size man strolling up to his house. There’s a swagger to his walk. Like he is the king of the hill or at least the territory between Durango and the border. No one is going to touch him.

  But I can. I control if he lives or dies.

  I’ll wait until dark then make my move. No mistakes from now on.

  An hour later as I creep toward the house with several cars parked out front in various stages of repair, my hands sweat. I wipe them on my pants then tighten my grip on my gun. I peer into the dirty window and see the coyote lounging in a chair with a beer in his hand, watching TV. A couple more beer cans litter the table next to him and spill over onto the floor around him. The man’s head lolls to the side and the can slips from his fingers. It drops to the carpet, liquid gushing from the container. Perfect.

  I make my way to the back door and jimmy it open, then sneak inside, treading lightly toward the living room where the man still sleeps in his lounger. I take my gun and turn it so I can use the handle as a weapon. Nearing the chair, I feel a surge of adrenaline calm any anxiety I have about carrying out my plan. I control this.

  I bring the handle of the gun down on the coyote’s head. Just one strike. Enough to knock him out until I subdue him.

  Within a few minutes, I have checked to make sure he is alive and tied him to the chair. Then I wait. I have time. He doesn’t.

  I walk to the blinds and draw them. Outside, darkness has started to fall. Before the man regains consciousness, I start my search of his house. I want my money back, and I want information. I will have answers to who the coyote told about me, who Anna might hav
e told about me. But mostly who was the father of Anna’s child. He will tell me. The only thing he controls now is how much pain I inflict on him before I kill him.

  Sweat pouring off him, Kyle plopped down on his bare mattress in his new bedroom. He wiped the towel down his face, then tossed it to the floor. His sore muscles screamed their protest at the grueling workout he’d just completed. Even though he had pushed himself until he couldn’t lift another weight, anger still banded his chest and contracted it, causing each breath he took in to hurt.

  I hate Durango. I don’t wanna be here.

  He clenched his hands into fists and pounded his mattress in frustration. Still the fury gripped him. No control over his life. He had to do what his dad wanted him to do.

  Dad doesn’t care what I want. It’s all about what he wants. I hate him.

  Kyle bolted to his feet and searched the stack of boxes still packed in his room. Finally, he saw the cell he’d left on the top of one of the cartons.

  Maybe I can do something about that. He punched in his stepfather’s number in Houston and waited.

  “Kyle, how are you doing? Are you in Durango now?” Nate asked when he answered the phone.

  “I want to come home.” His words barely made it past the lump in his throat. Men did not cry. Nate would be disappointed if he did.

  A heavy sigh sounded, followed by Nate saying, “I wish you could, but your father has total custody of you now. I tried to keep you with me, but he wouldn’t let me. You’re his son.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m your son. He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t understand me.”

  “I miss seeing you. Maybe this summer you’ll be able to come visit.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Starting school on Monday?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Then you can meet some friends. That’ll make it better.”

  “I doubt it. Too many of them are here.”

  “Being so near the border, that’s what I was afraid of. Houston isn’t much better. Remember it’s not much longer until you’ll be able to do what you want. You’ll be sixteen soon, and before you know it, you’ll become a young man living on your own. Hang in there and call when you need a friend to listen.”