Shirlee McCoy: Out of Time

Levi pushed back his Stetson and leaned close, looking straight into her eyes, his gaze compelling and demanding. Unyielding in a way she hadn’t remembered.

And it was enough to pull her away from the edge, out of the panic.

“I’m fine.”

He looked unconvinced, his brow furrowed, a five o’clock shadow giving him a tough edge that hadn’t been there when they were kids. “Suzy—”

“Let’s call it a day and say good-night.”

Levi was still standing under the streetlight as she pulled out of the parking lot. The rose was on the ground beside him, a dark line on the pavement.

She hated roses.

She turned on the radio. Tomorrow would be another long day, and she needed to be ready for it.

Prayed she’d be ready for it.

TEXAS RANGER JUSTICE:

Keeping the Lone Star State safe

Out of Time—Shirlee McCoy, June 2011

has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and she began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of five, Shirlee is a homeschool mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in Washington and share their house with a dog, two cats and a bird. You can visit her website at www.shirleemccoy.com, or email her at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.

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Therefore do not go on passing judgment before

the time, but wait until the Lord comes who will

both bring to light the things hidden in the darkness

and disclose the motives of men’s hearts; and then

each man’s praise will come to him from God.

—1 Corinthians 4:5

Sarah Rodgers. Keep working toward your goal,

and eventually you’ll reach it!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

EPILOGUE

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Silence told its own story, and Alamo Ranger Susannah Jorgenson listened as she hurried across the bridge that led to the chapel. Darkness had fallen hours ago and the air held a hint of rain. The shadows seemed deeper than usual, the darkness just a little blacker. Or maybe it was simply her imagination that made the Alamo complex seem so forbidding.

Imagination and too many sleepless nights.

Six months since Aaron Simons had attacked her, five months since he was killed in a police standoff just outside of San Antonio, and Susannah was still jumping at shadows. People were starting to notice. Her fellow park rangers were beginning to talk. Her life, the one she’d planned so carefully, the one she’d wanted ever since she was a kid, was slowly unraveling, and she felt helpless to stop it.

She shivered. Not from the cold. Not from the chilly breeze. From the darkness, the silence, the endless echo of her fear as she made her final rounds. She’d never known terror before Aaron. Now, it was her closest friend. Not something she was proud of, but something she acknowledged as she jogged to the chapel and flashed the beam of her light along the corners of the building.

Nothing.

No movement, no sounds, no reason to think she wasn’t alone, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. That somewhere beyond the beam of her light, danger waited.

Her cell phone rang as she walked into the building, and she jumped, her heart pounding, her pulse racing. Everything out of proportion to the moment. That seemed to be the story of her life lately.

“Hello?” Her voice bounced off the stone walls of the chapel, and something skittered in a dark corner to her right. She turned, her flashlight revealing nothing but tile floor and emptiness.

“Susannah? It’s Chad Morran.”

“What’s up?”

“Just got a call from Captain Ben Fritz with the Texas Rangers.”

“Let me guess. He wanted to know about our security plans for the 175th anniversary of the Battle of the Alamo celebration.” A soft sound carried through the cavernous room. Rustling papers? Fabric brushing against stone? Susannah cocked her head, listening, but heard nothing but her rapid heartbeat.

“Partially. He also wanted to let me know he’s sending a man out to the compound. They want to do a security sweep. See where our areas of weakness are.”

“They’re assuming we have them.”

“Aside from Fort Knox, I doubt there’s a place that doesn’t. With the 175th anniversary of the Battle of the Alamo coming up, we can’t afford to be too careful. The opening ceremony has to go off without a hitch.”

“I know.” There were more than a few high-level politicians scheduled to speak at a ceremony that would be hosted by the Alamo Planning Committee, and protecting them was the first priority of the Alamo Rangers.

“So you won’t mind staying at the compound a little late tonight? You are head of the security team for the event, after all.”

“You don’t need to convince me, Chad. I’m happy to do it.” Though staying alone at the compound after dark had become one of her least favorite things to do.

“Good. Good. Captain Fritz said his man should be there within the hour. I can come and help with the briefing if you want me to, or we can touch base tomorrow before we open.”

“No need for you to come. I’ll handle things.”

“You’re sure?” That he would ask made Susannah’s cheeks heat.

“It’s my job, Chad. If I can’t do it, I shouldn’t be working here.” Something she’d reminded herself of one too many times during the past few months.

“I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t handle it, Susannah. Just giving you an opportunity to ask for backup if you need it. This event is a big deal. We can’t afford to have anything go wrong.”

“Nothing will.”

She hoped.

She prayed.

But things went wrong all the time.

Good days turned bad in a blink of an eye.

“All right. I’ll leave it in your hands, then, and I’ll want a full report tomorrow.”

“No problem.” She slid the phone back in her pocket, did a full sweep of the chapel and of the office area beyond. Nothing, of course. There was never anything. She should be relieved, but all she felt was disgust at herself and her fear.

She ran a hand over her hair and tapped her Stetson against her thigh. What she needed was a little fresh air. A few minutes outside of the compound listening to the sound of people and the action drifting up from the River Walk and she’d feel more like herself.