Trail of Lies. Margaret Daley

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Trail of Lies - Margaret Daley Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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Kaitlyn was out of the kitchen, Daniel said, “I’d like to talk to Juanita before I leave.”

      Melora peered toward where her daughter had disappeared. She needed to get rid of the man as fast as possible in case someone was watching the house. “Fine. I’ll take you back to her suite. After that, I’d like you to go. I don’t want Kaitlyn to know anything about today.”

      “Don’t you want to find out who murdered your husband? Who broke into your house? It’s possible there’s a connection.”

      While he studied her, she struggled to remain as calm as possible. “Of course. But I don’t see a connection. And I have to think of my daughter’s emotional well-being.” And her physical well-being. What if Kaitlyn had been here when the man had broken in? Both sets of intruders had frightened her, but the last one seemed more sinister—desperate almost, as though time was running out. Chills encased her in a cold sweat. Her heartbeat sped up. She didn’t know how long she could keep up the pretense that everything was all right. This facade she had to put on weighed heavily on her.

      “I shouldn’t be long.”

      Melora swept her arm across her front, indicating the hallway Juanita disappeared down, then started forward. “Her room is back here.”

      The hair on her nape tingled under the Ranger’s hard gaze. He wasn’t going to let this investigation die until he’d turned over every clue he could get. Fear mingled with her frustration. She hadn’t wanted to say anything to Uncle Tyler about what had happened two years ago. She didn’t want him worrying or worse—trying to do something about it and getting hurt. He’d taken her in after her parents died when she was nine. He was all the family she had except for Kaitlyn.

      Melora stopped in front of a closed door and knocked. Her housekeeper answered, peering first at her then Daniel, wariness in her dark eyes. Although she knew about the break-in after Axle had vanished, Melora hadn’t told her about the threat. And Juanita had never questioned why Melora hadn’t reported the break-in to the sheriff. Juanita was an American citizen, but she was leery of law enforcement. Some of her family had been deported back to Mexico.

      “This is Daniel Riley with the Texas Rangers. He has a few questions for you. We had an intruder today, and Ranger Riley managed to chase the man away but didn’t catch him.”

      Juanita’s attention remained focused on Melora for a few seconds. “I don’t know anything about a break-in.”

      Touching her arm, Melora gave her housekeeper a reassuring look. “I know.” She bit back the words, “Humor him and he’ll leave.”

      “May I come in?” Daniel asked, nodding toward the sitting area visible behind Juanita.

      “I was getting ready to leave. I have to get dinner ready.” The housekeeper blocked the entrance into her suite. “I don’t understand what you think I know. I wasn’t here.” She shifted her gaze to Melora. “Was anything taken? Nothing was bothered in my room.”

      “No, not that I can tell.”

      “Who left first, you or Mrs. Hudson this afternoon?” Daniel asked, scrutinizing the housekeeper.

      “I did with Kaitlyn. I had a few errands to run before the play date.”

      “What errands?”

      “Pharmacy and dry cleaners.” Juanita glanced at Melora.

      “Did you talk to anyone?” Daniel shifted to hamper Juanita’s view of Melora.

      “Just the cashiers.”

      “Did you notice a white Honda Accord parked in this area when you left?”

      Juanita tilted her head to the side and thought for a moment. “No.”

      “No one unusual around?”

      Juanita shook her head.

      Daniel withdrew a business card. “If you can think of anything that might help us find the man who broke in here, please contact me.”

      Pocketing the card, her housekeeper moved out into the hall and closed her door. “If that’s all, I’ve got dinner to cook.” She ambled toward the kitchen without giving Daniel a chance to say anything.

      “She’s tough,” Daniel said with a chuckle.

      “Yes, and observant, so if she said she didn’t see anyone, there wasn’t anyone out there.”

      “What time did you leave this afternoon?”

      “1:00. My meeting was at 2:00 and since we’re a ways out of San Antonio, I needed to leave early. And I didn’t see anyone, either.” She trailed after her housekeeper down the hall, again feeling the Ranger’s scrutiny.

      “Either the man is good at hiding or he came after you left. Do you follow a certain routine?”

      “No. This meeting, however, is public knowledge and so is my participation.” Remembering that the man had indicated he’d been waiting for her return made her fearful. Her hands quavered, and she had to curl them into fists to keep the Ranger from seeing her alarm.

      “But the man wouldn’t know about your daughter and her play date?”

      The question brought Melora up short. She gripped the frame of the door that led into the kitchen. “So you think he either didn’t care my daughter would be home or he was watching the place?”

      Daniel skirted around her. “It’s a possibility we need to consider.” The pounding of her heartbeat nearly drowned out his next words, “I’ll keep you informed of my investigation.”

      In other words, he’d keep in touch, possibly come back to the house. Alert whoever was watching her. She wanted to tell him she didn’t want the case pursued, but there was no way she could tell him her reasons. She didn’t know what to do anymore.

      Why, Axle? Why did you get mixed up in something illegal? Those questions had rumbled around in her mind for the past two years, and she was reminded yet again that her judgment concerning her husband hadn’t been good. What had she missed? Why couldn’t she have seen what kind of man he really was?

      “Mrs. Hudson?”

      Daniel’s voice, full of concern, wrenched her back to the present—a present filled with a Texas Ranger who asked too many questions.

      “Are you okay?”

      She blinked. “What do you think?”

      He peered over her shoulder at the housekeeper and moved close to her. “I think you’re scared and hiding something.” He tipped his cowboy hat. “Good day. I can find my own way out.”

      Melora watched the man stride away, his steps long, economical, as though he never had a wasted motion. Dressed in tan slacks and a white, long-sleeve shirt with a black tie, he looked the part of a Texas Ranger down to his brown boots, his white cowboy hat and silver star he wore over his heart. Confident. Controlled. Capable—in any situation.

      She wished she had those traits, especially right now. Then she would know who to trust, what to do. How to get out

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