Lone Star Standoff. Margaret Daley
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“Okay. Thank you.” The judge disconnected their call.
He stuffed his phone into his pocket and left his bungalow. As the sun disappeared totally below the horizon, he sped as fast as he could toward her house in the next town.
* * *
Aubrey slammed the trunk down, her stomach roiling as the rotting odor grew worse by the minute. She hurried into the house and went immediately to the safe for the revolver she’d kept more as a memory of her husband than in the expectation she would ever use it, even though she knew how to fire a gun and keep it serviceable. But she had her children and mother to think about and protect. She hid the weapon in the big pocket of a bulky sweater she donned.
She returned to the kitchen, where her mother sat at the table with Camy and Sammy, waiting for her. Mama glanced at her bulging sweater pocket and furrowed her brows. She started to say something, but Aubrey quickly shook her head. She sat, but didn’t know if she could eat much. Her nausea persisted while her heartbeat raced. She couldn’t get it out of her mind that the rat was a warning.
“Let’s bless the food,” Aubrey said. “Sammy, it’s your turn.”
Her son joined hands with her and his sister, then bowed his head. “Thanks for the food and my madre and abuela.” He looked up then hurriedly added, “And Camy.”
Aubrey smiled at the Spanish words her son loved to throw in. Her mother was working with the twins to teach them her family’s language as well as English.
Her daughter turned her head so fast her long black ponytail swung around. “I cleaned up more than Sammy.”
“No, you dinna.”
Aubrey gave each twin a long stare, then replied, “What’s the rule when we’re eating?”
“No fighting,” they both said.
Aubrey ignored Camy sticking out her tongue at Sammy and instead stared at the food on her plate, wondering how she was going to eat it all. She checked her watch. The Texas Ranger who’d taken her husband’s place should be here soon. How was she going to keep her worries from affecting her children? She’d been on the bench for almost two years and even dealt with a few drug cases involving low-level members of the Coastal Cartel. Nothing had happened during that time. Was the message in her car trunk because the man on trial was one of the lieutenants in the cartel?
“Mama!”
Aubrey blinked and glanced at her daughter. “What?”
“Are ya lost in your mind?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been askin’ ya for more leche.” Camy held up her empty glass. “I’ll pour it.”
“No!” The last time her daughter had tried to refill her milk, it went everywhere. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.” Aubrey took the glass from Camy and crossed to the refrigerator.
When she came back to the table, she intercepted a puzzled look from her mother. She didn’t want to say anything in front of her children, so she switched her attention to Camy and forced a grin. As she started to sit again, the doorbell rang.
Aubrey jerked to a standing position. “I’ll get it. I may be a while. It’s work. Finish your dinner. I’ll eat later.”
Her mama stared at her for a few seconds, then said to the twins, “After dinner, you two can help me with the dishes, and then we can play a game.”
A resounding cheer came from her children as Aubrey rushed toward the entry hall and reached to clasp the knob. She stopped in mid-motion. Instead she looked through the peephole and saw it was Texas Ranger McNair, then opened the door. “Thank you for coming.” She stepped to the side for him to enter.
She hadn’t seen him at the courthouse in over a month and had forgotten how tall and well built he was. Dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt with a striped gray-and-red tie, black pants, an off-white cowboy hat, brown boots and his badge pinned over his heart, he had a commanding air about him. The sight of him dressed for work reminded her of her husband, and a knot clogged her throat. That first year after Samuel’s murder, she saw Sean a couple of times a week while he worked the case.
He paused a few feet from her, turned toward her and held out his hand. “It’s nice to see you again.” His dark blue eyes roamed over her features, and a slow smile spread across his tanned face. “Although I wish it were under different circumstances.”
She shook his hand. “I agree, Sean. I have a home office where we can talk. My children are in the kitchen, and I don’t want them to overhear our conversation.”
“I understand. Lead the way.”
Aubrey passed him in the foyer, feeling dwarfed by his large frame. She was only five four while he must be at least six and a half feet, if not more. She waved her hand toward a brown leather love seat and two chairs. Although she had a desk, she usually ended up working on the two-cushion couch with her laptop and papers spread all over the coffee table.
“When I’m not in a trial, I often work from home to be here for my two kids. It helps that my mother lives with me, and I’m only ten minutes away from the courthouse.”
While he took a chair, she sat on the love seat, thinking they should switch places. He looked so big in the wingback. He took off his hat and laid it on the coffee table between them, then ran his fingers through his thick, short black hair. “Being the judge in the Bento Villa trial must be tough.”
“Yes, it’s taken days to find a jury. The trial will actually start on Monday. When you leave, I’ll open the garage door and show you the dead rat in my car’s trunk. I didn’t touch it. In fact, I left a shopping bag in there with clothes I bought at lunch for my twins, Sammy and Camy. They’re four and a half. My mama takes care of them when I’m working.” When she and Sean had talked before, it had been centered on her husband’s case, but if someone was coming after her now, Sean needed to know everything about her family. They could be affected, too.
“Is your son named after his dad?”
“Yes, and Camy after my mama. Her name is Camilla.” Texas Ranger McNair had always been easy to talk to. Aubrey reclined back, trying to relax some of her tight muscles that had stayed with her since she left the courthouse. The only place she dealt with her job at home was in this office. When she walked out of here, her family became her focus—until someone had left that message in her trunk. “A dead rat has been used by the cartel before as a warning. I’ve also received a few hang-ups at my office in the courthouse since I was assigned to the Villa trial.”
“Have you received calls like that at other times?”
“Occasionally, and that’s why I shrugged them off this time. I know it’s not Bento himself, since he’s in jail and his communications are monitored. But the Coastal Cartel is big and ruthless.”
“What’s the security for this trial?”
“Extra