Nicole Helm - Stone Cold Texas Ranger

Yeah, her imagination had always gotten her into trouble.

“Ms. Torres. Come inside, please.”

She held no ill will against Captain Dean. He was one of the few rangers who respected and believed in what she did. He was, more often than not, the one who called her in to help with a case.

But she had crossed a line she knew she wasn’t supposed to cross, and she was going to have to deal with the consequences—which would gall. For one, because it meant Ranger Jerk got what he wanted. But more important, because she might have finally had some insight into her sister’s case, and been too impetuous to make the most of it.

“Have a seat.”

She slid into the chair opposite Captain Dean’s desk. The two rangers she’d been in the interrogation room with stood on either side.

They were impressive, the three of them. Strong, in control, looking perfectly pressed in what constituted as the Texas Ranger uniform: khakis, a dress shirt and a tie, Ranger badge and belt buckle, topped off with cowboy boots. The only thing the men weren’t wearing inside the office were the white cowboy hats.

She wanted to sneer at Ranger Cooper’s smug blue eyes, but she didn’t. She smiled sweetly instead.

“You breached our contract, Ms. Torres. You know that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your job is not to question witnesses. It’s only to put them under hypnosis, should they agree, to calm them and allow us to ask questions.”

“I know, sir. I’m sorry for...stepping out of line.” She offered both the men who’d been in the room with her the best apologetic smile she could muster. “I got a little carried away. I can promise you, it won’t happen again.”

“I’m afraid we can’t risk second chances at this juncture. Not in this department, not in the Texas Rangers. I’m sorry, Natalie. You’ve been an asset. But this was unconscionable, and you will not be asked back.”

She sat frozen, completely ice from the inside out. Not be asked back. But she’d helped solve cases. For years. She’d received a commendation even! And he was...

“Cooper, see her out?”

Ranger Jerk nodded toward the door. “After you.”

She swallowed over the lump in her throat. All her chances. All the times she’d been so close to seeing something of Gabby’s case. All the possibility, and she’d ruined it.

No, he’d ruined it for her. He had. She stood on shaky legs, clutching her phone and her purse.

“I am sorry.”

She didn’t look back at Captain Dean, or Ranger Stevens. She didn’t want to see the pitying, apologetic looks on their faces. Just like all those other policemen who’d come up with nothing—nothing when it came to Gabby’s disappearance.

Apologies didn’t mean a thing when her sister was gone. Eight years. And Natalie was the only one who held out any hope, and now her hope was...

Well, it had just gotten kicked in the teeth.

She managed to walk stiffly to the door and stepped out, the Jerk of the Manor still behind her. Too close behind her and crowding her out and away.

“I’ll see you all the way out of the building, Ms. Torres,” he said, sounding so smug and superior.

She walked down the hall, still a little shaken. But shaken had no hold on her anger. She glared at the man striding next to her. “You got me fired, you lousy son of a—”

“I’d reconsider your line of thought and blame, Ms. Torres.” He continued to look ahead, not an ounce of emotion showing on his face. “You got yourself fired. Now, stay out of this case. If I catch a whiff of you being involved in it anywhere, I will not hesitate to find out every last thing about you and connect you to whatever dirty deeds you’re hiding.”

“I am not hiding any dirty deeds.” Which was the God’s honest truth. She hadn’t stepped out of line in eight years. Or ever, really, but especially since Gabby had disappeared.

His eyes met hers, a cold, cold stormy blue. “We’ll see.”

She shivered involuntarily, because that look made her feel like she had done something wrong, which was so absurd.

Even more absurd was the idea of her staying out of the case. She’d take what little information she’d gathered and follow it to the ends of the earth.

Because she refused to believe her sister was dead. A body had never been found, and that Herman man had said...he’d said he keeps the girls. Not kept. Not got rid of. Keeps.

Maybe Gabby wasn’t one of those girls, but it was possible. More than that, she thought. The Texas Rangers might be a mostly good bunch, but they had rules and regulations to follow. Natalie Torres did not.

God help the man who tried to stop her.

Chapter Two

The phone ringing and vibrating on his nightstand jerked Vaughn out of a deep sleep. He cursed and answered it blearily. Phone calls in the middle of the night were never good, but they always had to be answered.

Much to his ex-wife’s constant complaints throughout the duration of their marriage.

“Cooper,” he grumbled into the speaker.

“You’re going to need to get out here.”

He recognized his captain’s voice immediately. “Text the address.”

“Yup.”

Vaughn rubbed his hands over his face, then went straight to his closet where a row of work clothes hung, always a few pressed and ready to go. He never liked to be caught without clean and ironed clothes on the ready, even in the middle of the night. He looked at the clock as he dressed. Three fifteen.

He strode through his house, gave the coffeemaker a wistful glance. Even though he always kept it ready to go, he didn’t have time to sit around waiting for it to brew. Not at three fifteen.

With a stretch and a groan, he strapped on his gun and tried not to wonder if he was getting too old for this. Thirty-four was hardly too old. He had a lot of years to go before he could take a pension, but more...

He had a lot of cases to solve before his conscience would let him leave. So, he needed to get at it.

He got in his car, and when his phone chimed, he clicked the address Captain Dean had texted and started the GPS directions. It took about fifteen minutes to arrive at his destination, a small neighborhood a little outside the city that he knew was mainly rental houses. Single-storied brick buildings, a few split-levels. Modest homes at best, flat out run-down at worst.

Fire trucks and police vehicles were parked around a burned-out and drowned shell of a house. Though it still smoked, the house had obviously been ravaged by the fire hours earlier.

Vaughn stopped at the barricade, flashed his badge to the officer guarding the perimeter and then went in search of Captain Dean. When he found him, he was with Bennet. Vaughn’s uneasy dread grew.

“What’ve we got?”

“This is the hypnotist’s house,” Bennet said gravely.

The dread in Vaughn’s gut hardened to a rock. The house was completely destroyed, which meant—

“She’s fine. She wasn’t home, which is lucky for her, because someone was. Herman.”

“Dead?”

Captain Dean nodded. “He didn’t start and botch the fire, either, at least from what information I’ve been able to gather. We’ll have to wait to go over everything with the fire investigator once she’s done, but I think it got back to somebody Herman squealed. Body was dumped.”

“The hypnotist? Where was she?”

“With her mom,” Bennet offered, “who works at a gas station down on Clark. We’ve got guys going over surveillance, but so far she’s on the tape almost the entire night. She came home just after some neighbors called 9-1-1. She’s innocent.”

Innocent? Maybe of this, but Natalie Torres was hardly innocent. The day was full of far too much weirdness for her to be innocent. “You sure about that?”