Valerie Hansen - Face of Danger

“Humor me.”

Paige huffed and gave him a lopsided grin. “I’m starting to get the idea that you intend to do as you please no matter what I say.”

Touching the broad brim of his cattleman’s hat and, nodding politely, he drawled, “Yes, ma’am. And it will be my pleasure.”

Being on the receiving end of the Ranger’s overt courtesy made Paige feel decidedly shamefaced. She climbed into her truck while he held the door, then said, “Why don’t you hop in and let me drive you over to the motor pool? I’m sure you must be tired.”

He yawned, covering his mouth. “You could say that. It’s been a long day.”

“And a long last few months, I imagine. I can’t believe the Rangers haven’t solved the murder of one of their own yet.”

“Neither can I.” She saw him eyeing the passenger side of her pickup as he asked, “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Paige concentrated on bestowing a gracious smile to confirm her invitation. She understood his frustration with any unsolved case, especially the one he was currently working. Even this many years after the fact, she sometimes found herself wondering about her sister’s disappearance and wishing she could go back in time and do things differently.

Starting the engine as soon as Cade had joined her and slammed his door, Paige began to drive toward the garage where the State Troopers stored and processed their vehicular evidence.

A sudden thought caused her to hold out her hand. “You’d better give me your card so I’ll have your cell number handy, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

She chuckled wryly. “If I knew that, I could tell you now and forget using the phone.”

“Very logical.” Smiling, he pulled out a business card and passed it to her. “Here you go. I keep my cell as close as I keep my Colt .45, so feel free to contact me anytime, day or night.”

“Thanks. See you bright and early tomorrow? I usually start around seven.”

“Boy, you don’t kid around, do you?”

“Nope. What I do is too important. When I have work like this waiting for me, I make sure it gets done ASAP.”

“Understood.” He saluted with a nod as he stepped out of the truck and paused. “Night, ma’am.”

“Good night.” As he closed the door, she hit the button to roll the window down so they could continue to hear each other speaking. Beyond lay the garage where his damaged truck would be waiting. It disturbed her to think of how close they may have come to never getting together at all, let alone having the opportunity to discuss their mutual goals regarding Captain Pike’s murder.

Paige leaned across the truck seat to watch his face when she added, “Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

He’d tossed off the comment too blithely to suit her. “I mean it. I’ll worry.”

Cade grinned, making her glad she was still seated because she suddenly felt a little off balance—and more than a little charmed.

“Don’t waste energy fretting about me,” he said. “Everything will be fine. I got the evidence delivered and we’ll be done with it in no time. I’ve heard you’re a genius with clay.”

“Thanks. I do have my moments.”

He waved goodbye and so did she.

Watching him walk away, Paige was struck by a strong sense that, given what had already happened, the rest of this case was not going to be a stroll in the park.

That particular choice of words did not sit well. Her hands fisted and clenched on the steering wheel. Her heart began to beat faster. There was nothing peaceful or relaxing about a visit to a public park when those grounds might hide a waiting predator. She, of all people, knew that.

Pausing by the garage entrance to watch the attractive forensic artist drive away, Cade realized how much she had impressed him. Considering Paige’s strong work ethic, it was no wonder the Texas Rangers were able to get by with only one artist. A person like her was worth a dozen who treated their tasks as nothing more than an everyday job.

He was totally dedicated to the Rangers, too. In that respect, he and Paige saw things in the same light. What else they may or may not have in common remained to be discovered.

He sighed and saw his breath cloud in the cold night air. Perhaps this evening at the motel, he’d see what background info he could turn up on Ms. Bryant. She would never have been hired in the first place if she’d had a criminal record, of course, but he was positive the young woman was hiding something. His gut told him so.

And, he added, if he could find out a few things to help him guide their daily, casual conversations, perhaps she’d open up and tell him what was really bothering her. Something was. He’d stake his badge on it.

The house Paige shared with Angela, her paying roommate, and Max, the freeloading dog, was located in a semirural area outside Austin. The entire neighborhood had seen better days, but the place sure looked inviting when she pulled into her drive and her headlights illuminated the front of the property. Yes, the scraggly lawn needed mowing more often—or rather, the volunteer weeds did—and the green shingled roof should have been replaced years ago instead of merely patched, had she been able to afford it. Still, this old house was more like a real home than anywhere Paige had lived since she was a child of ten.

She reached for her purse, realizing belatedly that in all the confusion at the office she’d failed to pick up her laptop the way she usually did. Rats. Oh, well, it would be waiting for her in the morning.

Before she had time to reach the house, the porch light blinked on, the front door swung open and Max galloped out. From the look of him, he’d been into mischief very recently. His shaggy white beard and front paws not only looked wet, they were tinted pink.

“Glad you’re home,” Angela called from the doorway. “That dumb dog just knocked over a whole glass of fruit punch and stepped in the puddle.”

Paige couldn’t help laughing. “He looks like it.” She bent to ruffle the sheepdog’s thick coat while pushing him away to keep him from getting punch on her. “What happened?”

“Max happened. You know him. If we’re interested in anything, so is he. I was getting myself a drink and he tried to stick his big nose into the glass. I yanked it away and…”

“Aha! You spilled it.”

“It was still his fault,” the slightly built, dark-haired, young woman insisted. “He made me do it.”

Paige continued to wiggle her fingers in the dog’s thick coat while she murmured to him as if he were human. “She was trying to blame you but I didn’t let her. No, I didn’t. ’Cause you’re the best dog in Texas. Yes, you are. You’re a good boy, Max.”

The black and white behemoth panted and wiggled happily all over in response to her loving tone. Since he lacked a tail to wag, he did the best he could with his whole rear half.

Laughing, Paige led him over to a faucet and held on to his collar while she tried, one-handed, to hose off the worst of the punch stain without getting him, or herself, too wet. Even in the shadowy light from the porch she could tell that the attempt was less than successful. Finally, still chuckling, she shut the dog in the fenced backyard for his own safety and ducked into the house without him.

Angela had finished cleaning up the spill and was wringing out a rag over the sink. She grinned sheepishly. “I still say Max deserves the blame.”

“I’ll let you two share it.” Paige eyed the packed suitcase in the hallway and her roommate’s navy blue flight attendant’s uniform. “You have another assignment tonight?”

“Yes. Austin to LAX via Dallas. I know it’s my turn to cook so I left your dinner in the fridge.”