Trail of Lies. Margaret Daley

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Trail of Lies - Margaret Daley Mills & Boon Love Inspired

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chairman of the committee, stuck his head out into the hallway.

      Melora used that excuse to hurry ahead of Daniel and Rodney into the room. Taking the last vacant chair on the left, she was relieved when Daniel sat on the opposite side of the table. His eyes zoomed in on her as he removed his white cowboy hat and put it under his seat. She fought the urge to squirm and wrenched her gaze away from his.

      After going through a list of items on the agenda, Hank closed the folder in front of him and looked toward Daniel. “I understand the Texas Rangers have some concerns and wanted to express them today at this meeting. You’ve got the floor, Daniel.”

      Hank, too, had been good friends with his father. Actually, Daniel knew half of the members personally. He hoped that would help him talk them into the changes the Texas Rangers proposed.

      Daniel rose, chancing a look toward Melora. She’d been avoiding eye contact the whole meeting. At the moment, she stared down at the paper before her. What are you hiding?

      He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Hank. “We’ve looked over the plans for the celebration and feel we have to recommend that it be toned down in scope. We think a more intimate celebration will give anyone bent on causing trouble less opportunity to disrupt the event. It’ll be easier to keep an eye on the crowd with a smaller function. We’re concerned that with the vice president and the governor attending there could be problems with security, especially in light of the letter in October alluding to bad things happening if the celebration wasn’t canceled and then the anonymous phone call Hank received a few weeks ago threatening problems. It doesn’t appear the person has given up, and we haven’t been able to locate him.”

      Everyone began talking at once. Hank held up his hand. “This has been in the planning stages for years. We can’t all of a sudden change plans. What kind of message would we be sending to others? That we can be intimidated? No!” Hank brought his hand down flat on the oak table. “This is Texas and this celebration is important to the state, especially to San Antonio.”

      “But we celebrate the Alamo’s anniversary every year. We can make this one smaller and have a bigger one next year.” Daniel looked pointedly at each member of the committee, lingering on Melora for a few extra seconds.

      “Celebrating the 176th anniversary doesn’t have the same kind of ring as the 175th anniversary.” Rodney frowned. “And what if we have a threatening letter next year? Do we just cancel the celebration altogether? No, just like the United States doesn’t give in to terrorists, we won’t give in to this blackmail. Beef up security. Find the person responsible for the threats.”

      A few others interjected their thoughts. One was in favor of scaling the celebration down while two others weren’t.

      Frustrated, Daniel surveyed each member’s face and saw resolve not to buckle under any pressure—except for Melora and the woman next to her. Melora’s gaze connected with Daniel’s for a brief moment, and he saw understanding in those green depths. The visual link stirred feelings of protectiveness in him.

      “I think you know how this committee feels, but we’ll put it to a vote. All in favor of keeping the celebration as it’s planned now, raise your hand.” Hank surveyed the people at the table. “Eight to two. It looks like we’ll leave it as is.”

      Daniel gave Melora a smile for her no vote and sat.

      “We expect you and the other Rangers to make the celebration as safe as possible.” Hank directed a hard look at Daniel, then Anderson. “And we don’t need knowledge of the letter and phone call getting out. They were both vague, nothing concrete. I don’t want the press to get hold of them and build up the threat to more than it is. You know how they can be. Understand, Rangers Riley and Michaels?”

      “Yes, sir,” both he and Anderson said.

      “Good. Since we’re getting closer to the anniversary, we’ll convene in two weeks at the same time. That concludes our meeting.” Closing his notepad in front of him, Hank rose.

      Daniel surged to his feet and headed for the door. Out in the hall he paused and turned to Anderson. “Go ahead without me. I’m going to try and talk with Melora Hudson.”

      “Gonna use your charm to get the lady to tell all?”

      “I’m working on it.” Daniel chuckled. According to his ex-wife, he had none.

      Melora emerged from the meeting room and spotted Daniel. Her mouth tightened and her shoulders tensed. Quickly, she fastened her attention on the opening elevator door and started toward it.

      Daniel moved into her path. “I want to thank you for your support in the meeting.”

      “You’re welcome.” She took a step away, feeling trapped by the Ranger’s presence yet wanting to know if he’d discovered anything about Axle’s death. Anything that could put her in more danger.

      “I think the decision is a big mistake.”

      “I agree. It isn’t necessary to take needless risks.” She had enough of them to fill a lifetime.

      “With added security there won’t be needless risks,” Rodney said, stopping next to Melora. He directed his look to Daniel. “I’m confident that the Texas Rangers will have the security needed to protect the public, the governor and the vice president. Look at the Super Bowl. The World Series. They manage to have those huge events without incident.”

      Daniel donned his cowboy hat. “We’ll do the best job possible. But we wouldn’t be doing that job if we didn’t propose a smaller celebration for safety reasons.”

      “Son, I was good friends with your father. As you know, he loved this celebration. We’ll miss him this year. He was looking forward to the event, had even pushed it before his death last year. He was passionate about anything to do with the Alamo. A true Texan to the core. We’re dedicating this to your father and his memory.”

      The color leaked from Daniel’s tanned features. “I’d heard that.”

      Daniel’s father had been a big supporter of the Alamo, the committee and San Antonio. He’d given large sums of money to various events to promote the city and state.

      Rodney slapped Daniel on the back. “It’s going to be okay, son. Nothing has ever happened before.” The older man nodded toward Melora. “If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. I’m sorry to hear about Axle, but at least now you have some closure.”

      A lump formed in her throat. Closure? She didn’t know if she ever would. As Rodney ambled toward the elevator, Melora glanced around and noticed the hallway was empty except for them. In Daniel’s dark gray eyes she glimpsed a vulnerability that she could identify with. The mention of his father had changed his bearing. For a few seconds his expression reflected pain as Rodney had talked. But also something else? Hurt was something she knew about. That connected them in a way she couldn’t afford. She needed to distance herself as far from the police as possible. She didn’t want the people watching her to think she was cooperating with the authorities.

      Daniel blew a breath out. “Mom is happy about the dedication.”

      “But not you?”

      “I don’t know what I think.” That hurt she’d sensed a few minutes ago inched back into his voice. “Especially if something does go wrong at the celebration.”

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