was there when Captain Pike was murdered in his own home. Before Captain Pike died, we—the Ranger company—had gotten a text that Pike had something major to share with us. We were all to gather at his house so he could fill us in, but when we got there…” She paused and he glanced at her as he pulled into a parking spot in front of The Great Plate, the restaurant he’d heard had good home cooking.
“Yeah?” he prompted.
She cleared her throat. “When we got there, we found our captain dead and another man severely wounded. That man’s been in a coma ever since and we’ve had no luck tracking down who he is. We’re desperate for him to wake up and tell us who shot him and the captain. But so far, no luck.” She grimaced. “And to top that off, someone tried to kill him just a few weeks or so ago so he’s under 24/7 guard right now.”
“Ouch.”
She opened her door and climbed out. He saw her pull the edges of her heavy down coat tighter against her throat. He shivered in his own jacket as they moved toward the warmth of the restaurant. “And this is what you’ve been working on for the past several months?”
“That’s it. We’re making progress, finding clues here and there, but we just can’t seem to grab on to that final piece of information that will allow us to put it all together and capture the top guys.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know how you feel. I’ve been working the border down here for years, catching the small fish. I just can’t seem to get the information I need to catch the big dogs.”
“And then we’ve got the Alamo celebration coming up in March. Our company is part of the security detail and we believe someone is targeting that celebration for some reason.” She pulled the door open. “Hopefully the answer to that is somewhere in the info on the flash drive.”
As Gisella stepped inside, she breathed in the scents of veggies and coffee. And was that a roast she smelled? Her stomach growled. A sudden longing for her mother’s home cooking swept over her. Please, Lord, let us resolve our differences soon.
Brock stood behind her and for some reason, she was very aware of his presence. So much so that for a few seconds she didn’t realize the noise level in the restaurant had dropped to a dead silence.
Although there weren’t many customers—probably due to the lateness of the hour—all eyes present were focused on the newcomers. Gisella shifted, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. She was used to people staring out of curiosity simply because of her uniform and the fascination people had with Texas Rangers.
However, these stares didn’t feel like that. They felt menacing. Surprised at her somewhat paranoid reaction, she let her eyes roam the restaurant again.
Nope, not paranoid. Unsmiling, stony faces looked back at her.
Then a man in a food-stained apron approached and handed them two menus. “Hey, I’m Angelo Luc—or Pop. I answer to both. Have a seat wherever you want, Krista’ll be around shortly to take yer order. You got here just in time. I’m closing up in thirty minutes.”
“Thanks.” Gisella gripped her menu and made her way over to a booth in the corner. Brock slid in across from her and gradually, the patrons turned their attention back to their meals.
She blew out a breath. “What was that all about?”
“Small town, new faces?” He gestured toward her badge. “A Ranger in town and they want to know why.”
Gisella flushed. “Maybe I should have changed and been a little less conspicuous. Then again, I’m not undercover and have nothing to hide.”
“After we eat, I suggest we find the sheriff and explain our presence. I’ve already met him a few times but he’ll want to know about you.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Brock picked up the menu. “So, what do you think? Lots of choices here.”
She lifted a brow. “All five of them? That qualifies as a lot to choose from?”
A grin slid across his lips and she felt her face flush for a different reason this time. He was teasing her. Then his eyes flickered as he glanced at his options on the menu. “Choices. I’ve made a lot of choices in life.”
“What kind of choices?”
“Right ones, wrong ones.” He smirked. “Seems like the wrong ones outweigh the right ones some days.”
Gisella blinked at his sudden flash of vulnerability. Where had that come from? But she knew what he meant. And because of that, she felt herself drawn to him. “I guess you have to pray about it and believe that God won’t steer you wrong.”
He pulled in a deep breath and studied her, his blue eyes piercing to her soul. “I haven’t prayed in a long time.”
More vulnerability. “Why not?” She couldn’t help it, she was curious about him.
He flushed as though he regretted bringing up the topic, then shrugged. “I guess I’ve just been so busy trying to catch the bad guys, I haven’t given God and prayer a lot of thought.”
“That’s understandable. I’ve been there.”
“But you’re not now?”
“No. God got my attention a few years ago. I finally realized I had to make the time to spend with Him, it wasn’t just going to magically happen.” She smiled, but didn’t elaborate further.
She’d been mad at God for a long time after the death of her brother, but had eventually made her peace with it. A story she would be happy to share with the man before her. Maybe when she knew him a little better, though. She couldn’t talk about it without tearing up. And after his doubtful comments about her superiors sending a woman down to work on this case, crying in front of Brock wasn’t going to happen.
Brock kept silent, then seemed to realize she wasn’t going to say anything else. He sighed. “Today when Lenny had that gun pointed at me and murder in his eyes…well, I have to say, I prayed.”
“Guess God still has work for you to do.”
“I guess.” His smile finally touched his eyes.
“Whew! Sorry it took me so long to get over here. Y’all ready?”
They looked up to find a young girl probably not much older than sixteen standing at the edge of the table, pen poised above her order tablet. Her blond ponytail swung behind her and her blue eyes smiled with her lips.
Brock smiled back at her. “I’ll take the special.”
Gisella shut her menu. “Make that two.”
“Country fried chicken, gravy, greens and cornbread. You got it.” She spun on her heel and headed for the kitchen.
Gisella let her eyes wander around the restaurant. Another young waitress worked the back tables. “Nice little place they have here. How did you find it?”
“A drug runner I arrested about a month ago was from here. He jumped bail and I was determined to get him back. I teamed up with a bounty hunter and
