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Daughter of Texas. Terri ReedЧитать онлайн книгу.

Daughter of Texas - Terri Reed


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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.


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