Her tongue ran over her lips. “I think it was just a burglar.”
He couldn’t shake the feeling something was going on here beyond a mere robbery, especially since Melora kept evading eye contact. “What was he after?”
Her mouth pinched into a frown. “I don’t know. He didn’t give me a rundown while he had me pinned to the floor.”
Her body language—rubbing her eye, looking away for a couple of seconds—shouted at deception. She knew what the man was after. Why didn’t she tell him? Was there a connection to her dead husband?
“You’re Daniel Riley with the Texas Rangers. I told the other Ranger last week I don’t know who would have killed my husband or why someone would want him dead. Why would you think this has anything to do with Axle’s murder?” She drew herself up straight, dropping her arms to her sides, her chin tilting up a notch.
They had casually met before since their families moved in the same social circles, and she was on the Alamo Planning Committee for the 175th anniversary celebration of the Battle of the Alamo in March. He’d spoken to the committee a few months back. But he really didn’t know her. That would change after today. “Why are you so sure it doesn’t? Your husband’s remains were finally identified after he’d been missing for two years and the next week your house is broken into. Just a coincidence?”
“Yes. I’ve told Ranger Drew everything I know, which is nothing. Axle went out one evening and never returned. That’s all I know.”
“Did anyone have a grudge against your husband?”
“Why are the Texas Rangers involved in the investigation? I would have thought the sheriff would be conducting the murder investigation. He’s the one I reported to when my husband went missing two years ago.”
“Your husband’s murder may be tied to an investigation we’re running.”
“What?”
The doorbell’s chime cut the tension vibrating between them.
“Excuse me.” Relief washed over her face as she headed toward the foyer.
“That’s the sheriff. I called in the make of the getaway car and its partial license number.” Daniel trailed behind her, just in case it wasn’t the sheriff.
She halted and looked back at him. “Good.”
But that fear he’d glimpsed at the gravesite flickered across her face momentarily. She quickly continued her trek toward the door and opened it to the sheriff and a deputy.
Sheriff Karl Layton moved into the house after indicating to his deputy to check the grounds. “Melora, I understand there was a break-in here today.”
“A man was here when I came home a little while ago.”
“Where are your housekeeper and daughter?”
“Juanita took Kaitlyn to a play date with a friend. I had a meeting at the hospital with the ladies auxiliary.”
“When will they be back?”
“Not for another hour.”
“I’ll try to make this quick. I’d hate to upset Kaitlyn any more.”
“Thanks, Karl. I appreciate that.” Melora indicated to the living room and Daniel standing in its entrance. “Ranger Riley managed to thwart the man. Nothing was taken that I can tell.”
How would she know? She couldn’t have checked. There hadn’t been enough time. Daniel got the distinct feeling the woman wanted both him and the sheriff gone as quickly as possible. That wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t getting rid of him that easily. Her husband had been involved in what was going on with the Lions of Texas. His body had been found buried at one of the organization’s drug drop sites. Had he been a member of the group? Had he crossed them somehow? Did Melora know something about the Lions of Texas?
Daniel strode to where the knife lay on the floor and pointed at it. “The intruder dropped this before fleeing.”
The color that had returned to Melora’s face drained again as she looked at the weapon. She turned away, hugging her arms across her chest.
“Good. We’ll check for fingerprints.” The sheriff donned a latex glove and carefully picked up the knife to drop into an evidence bag.
“You probably won’t find anything since he wore gloves, but maybe he was careless and we’ll catch a break.”
“It’s happened before, and I’m always grateful when it does.” Karl removed his cowboy hat and held it in his hands as he sat on a beige couch while Melora took the wingback chair across from him. “Can you tell me what happened? Anything about the man?”
She ran her long tapered fingers along her chin. “It happened so fast. I thought Patches had knocked over something in the living room. I came in to investigate. The next thing I know a man tackled me to the floor. The rest is a blur.”
Daniel remained standing by the door to the porch, listening to the shaky thread in her voice. His instincts told him there was a lot more to the story.
“What did he look like?” The sheriff rotated his cowboy hat in his hands.
“He had a black ski mask on. That’s about all I really saw.”
“What color were his eyes?” Daniel asked as he took several steps toward the pair.
“I—green—no, I think brown.” Melora kept her gaze fastened on to the sheriff as though hoping Daniel would go away if she ignored him.
Frustration churned in his gut. “Sheriff Layton, the suspect was about five feet nine. His build was compact. Strands of black hair hung below the ski mask a few inches. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a gray T-shirt, plain as far as I could tell and black leather gloves. His arms were deeply tanned. I gave you the description of the car he used to get away. Oh, and he ran fast, as though he were a runner.”
“That’s a start. We’ve got a BOLO out on the car.”
“Will you let me know when you find it?” Although he knew the sheriff would follow up on the partial license plate and see if he could find a match with a white Honda Accord, Daniel planned to do his own checking into it. He had to do something to find the person who murdered his captain. So much of what he and the other Rangers of Company D had discovered had led nowhere. They knew there was a criminal group in the state called the Lions of Texas and two of the activities they were involved in were drug running and murder. Axle had obviously double-crossed them, and he paid the price. His body was a clue Daniel hoped steered them in the right direction.
“Sure.” The sheriff turned his attention back to Melora. “Do you have any idea how the suspect got into the house?”
She waved her hand toward the porch door. “It was unlocked. The bolt was in the wrong place. I know it was locked when I left and my alarm was on when I came home.”
“Who knows your alarm code?” the sheriff asked, removing a pad from his pocket.
“My housekeeper, a maid who comes twice
