Diana Palmer - The Texas Ranger

A number of influential voters and members of high society were invited to the Garner home for a party on the lake two months before the election. Dale, who was keeping Josette company since Marc had quit the Rangers and left town, invited her to attend the party with him.

It didn’t occur to her at first that it was odd for someone like Dale, with rough edges and only a high school education, to be invited to a high society party. In fact, she asked him bluntly how he’d been invited. He’d laughed and told her that he was old Henry’s chauffeur and bodyguard, and he’d been invited by nobody less than Silvia Webb to the party. Henry wouldn’t mind. Silvia didn’t care if he brought a friend, either. Josette had a passing acquaintance with Silvia Webb, whom she saw infrequently at the same coffee shop where she’d met Dale. There was a tall, shady-looking man who came there to meet Dale occasionally, too. She’d never known his name.

Josette was grateful for an opportunity to go to the party, expecting that Brannon would be there, and she could parade in front of him with Dale. It would have helped her shattered ego, because Brannon had dropped her flat after their last, tempestuous date. But when she and Dale arrived at the palatial lake house, Brannon hadn’t been there.

Silvia Webb’s reaction to Dale’s date had been less than flattering. Her beautiful face had undergone a flurry of emotions, from amusement to calculation and then to polite formality.

Silvia had pulled them over to introduce Josie to her husband, Bib, who gave Josette a look that made her want to strangle him and then he asked amusedly if she was a missionary. Her single party dress was high-necked and very concealing, and she’d been insulted by the remark. Webb had been drinking. A mousy little brunette was standing nearby, watching him adoringly. Silvia ignored her.

Dale had laughed with Bib Webb, which didn’t endear him to Josette, before Silvia herded them toward a dusty-looking old man in a dark suit holding a can of ginger ale. He had receding white hair and gentle eyes. This, Silvia had muttered, was Henry Garner. While Josie was returning his greeting, Silvia drew Dale away with her into the crowd.

Henry Garner was a kind, sweet man with a dry wit. Josie had liked him at once, when she saw that he was drinking ginger ale and not alcohol. She explained about her strict upbringing, and he grinned. They found a quiet place to stand and talk while the party went on around them and guests got less inhibited.

Bib Webb was dancing with the little brunette, his face quiet and intent as he stared down at her. He was saying something, and she looked worried. He glanced around covertly and then pulled her closer. She looked as if she were in heaven. When he turned her, as they danced, Josie could see that his eyes were closed and his eyebrows drawn down as if in pain.

Henry Garner noticed Josie watching them and distracted her, talking about the lieutenant governor’s race and asking about her party affiliation, successfully drawing her attention away from Bib Webb. When Garner asked her gently if she wasn’t thirsty, she agreed that she was. She couldn’t see Dale Jennings anywhere. She asked Garner if he wanted some punch, but he chuckled and said no at once. She didn’t question why. She was still disappointed that Brannon hadn’t shown up. She’d wanted him to see that her heart wasn’t breaking. Even if it was.

Josie went to the punch bowl, and Henry Garner made a beeline for Webb and the brunette. He said something to them. Bib Webb smiled sheepishly and the brunette moved away from him to where the band was playing. Odd, Josie thought, and then dismissed the little byplay from her mind. She thought she heard Garner’s voice raise just a note, but she didn’t think much about it. She got a cup of the pretty red punch with ice floating in it and took several long swallows before she realized that it wasn’t just punch.

Unused to alcohol, it hit her hard. She felt disoriented. She looked around for Dale, but she still didn’t see him anywhere. One or two of the older men started giving her pert figure speaking looks, and she felt uncomfortable. Looking for a port in a storm, she made her way back to where Henry Garner had been, only to find him gone.

Bib Webb was sitting down in a chair, looking worried and a lot more sober than he’d been acting before. He was sitting beside the little brunette, who had a small hand on his, and was talking to him earnestly. He looked as if the world was sitting on him. But when he saw Josie, he smiled politely and nodded. She shrugged, smiled and moved back into the crowd.

She was feeling sicker by the minute and she couldn’t find Dale. All she wanted was to go home. Mr. Garner hadn’t been drinking, so perhaps, she thought, she could ask him to drive her home. She made her way to the front door and walked out onto the porch. Down a double row of steps, past a deck and a garden path was the pier that led out onto the lake. She couldn’t see all the way to the edge of it, but she knew Mr. Garner wouldn’t be out there. She turned and went down the side of the house. On the way, she ran into Silvia.

The beautiful woman was a little disheveled and the hand that pushed back her windblown hair was trembling. But she forced a smile and asked how long Josie had been stumbling around outside in the dark.

It was an odd question. Josie admitted that she’d had some spiked punch and was sick. She wanted Dale or Mr. Garner to drive her home.

Silvia had immediately volunteered. She’d only had one wine spritzer, she assured Josie and herded her toward a new silver Mercedes. She put the young woman in the car and pointedly remarked that Henry Garner’s car was still sitting there, but he’d told Bib he was going out for some cigars. She waved, but Josette couldn’t see anybody to be waved at.

She drove Josette home. Late that night, the local news channel was full of the breaking story of the apparent drowning of philanthropist Henry Garner, whose body had been found by a guest—floating in the lake. A news helicopter hovering over the Garner and Webb estate fed grainy film to the studio for broadcast. Police cars and ambulances were visible below. It was an apparent accidental drowning, the newswoman added, because the gentleman was drunk.

Still unsteady on her feet, but certain of her facts, Josette had immediately phoned the police to tell them that she’d just been at that party. Henry Garner had been drinking ginger ale, he wasn’t drunk, and he and Bib Webb had apparently been arguing before Garner vanished from the party. The tip was enough for the local district attorney’s office to immediately step into the investigation.

A blackjack with blood on it was discovered in the passenger seat of Dale Jennings’s car at the scene, where police were holding guests until they could all be interrogated. Against the wishes of Bib Webb, an autopsy was ordered, which was routine in any case of sudden, unexplained violent death. The medical examiner didn’t find a drop of liquor in Garner’s body, but he found a blunt force trauma wound on the back of the old man’s head.

The “accidental” drowning became a sensational homicide overnight.

The best defense attorney in San Antonio was at Bib Webb’s side during a hastily called press conference, and Marc Brannon got emergency leave from the FBI, with Webb’s help, to come back to San Antonio and help investigate the murder. In no time at all, Dale Jennings was arrested and charged with first-degree murder. The blackjack in Jennings’s possession was said to be the instrument used to stun Garner; it had traces of Garner’s hair and blood on it, despite obvious efforts to wipe them off. Silvia Webb added that she’d seen Jennings near the lake, and the blackjack in Jennings’s car, just before she’d come back to the house and had taken Josette Langley home.