Final Stand. Helen R. Myers

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Final Stand - Helen R. Myers MIRA

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wide mouth. “What do we have here?”

      “Take a wild guess,” Gray replied. “Better yet, tell me what you want since I know better than to think it was concern for my safety that brings you over.”

      The sarcasm only made the cop grow more cheerful. He was a ripcord-lean man, surprisingly fair-skinned for someone in this part of the country, yet the muscles on his arms suggested rawhide toughness. Contrasting that were sunny blue eyes as curious and mischievous as a boy’s, framed by hair the color of chili powder and just long enough to curl with its own hint of devilry. He was, she decided, Shakespeare’s Puck grown up. Then his gaze moved over her with the laconic speed of cooled molasses and she knew to abandon the amusing analogies. This man hadn’t been a harmless charmer for decades—maybe not ever.

      “Did you happen to hear the sirens earlier?” he asked them.

      Gray remained focused on the dog, but allowed, “You know Pike’s not one to be a quiet hero. He sounds those alarms on the truck driving through town after a wash.”

      “Well, this was no polishing party. Somebody torched Assembly of Souls Church.”

      “Arson…you’re sure?”

      “What else would you make of a bonfire built on the front steps? Fortunately, Pike was having a smoke outside the station and spotted the glow. They caught it fairly early on. Only lost the porch. Well, maybe the front wall, too.”

      Frowning, Gray carried his instruments to the sterilizing container. “Bitters as the center of hate in Sutton County…that’ll be an interesting sell.”

      “Racism is nothing to joke about.”

      “What racism? There isn’t one black person in twenty miles, and the Mexicans the mayor and half of your business owners have working in their homes and at their ranches are Catholic. They don’t care about not being welcome at Assembly of Souls. They’re also making more money here in a month than all year at home. Racism…give me a break.”

      Instead of answering, Elias switched his gaze back to Anna. “I noticed your Texas plates, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

      Wishing she could be anywhere but here, Anna was grateful that at least she was wearing surgical gloves and didn’t have to shake hands. “Diaz. Anna Diaz.”

      “I’m Frank Elias.”

      “Congratulations, Frank,” Gray drawled. “You managed to resist adding your title. He’s the chief,” he explained to her. “Meaning that if there’s any racism to be exercised around here, he claims first rights.”

      Elias’s glance was cutting, but he let the dig pass.

      Anna remained silent, too, preferring to wait for the point to all of this.

      “That your dog?” the lawman finally asked.

      She shook her head.

      “What did I do, Slaughter, interrupt a hot date? Just when I thought you’d never get back into circulation. But it’s a helluva time to try to impress a lady with your professional skills.”

      What on earth was going on? Anna thought, her unease growing.

      Gray tossed the bloody bandages into the marked receptacle. “Get to the point, or better yet, get out before I’m tempted to assume you’re here to get something tucked and snipped yourself.”

      Sensing that whatever was between them went deeper than a simple misunderstanding, Anna decided she wanted no part of it. “Dr. Slaughter kindly helped out after I happened across this injured dog up the road,” she interjected in the hopes of keeping things from getting uglier.

      “Whereabouts?”

      She glanced around remembering the layout of the building in conjunction to the street and then pointed east. “That way.”

      “You’re sure? How far?”

      “Maybe a mile.”

      To her surprise, the two men exchanged glances. After a second, Gray merely shrugged.

      “Get as far as the church?” Chief Elias asked.

      “No, it was mostly woods where I stopped.”

      “The church isn’t far beyond the city limits sign. Pretty hard to miss.”

      “Then apparently I didn’t get there.”

      “Visiting kin in the area?”

      “No.”

      He waited for her to continue. She didn’t.

      “Just passing through?”

      “That’s right.”

      “Not exactly safe times for a woman to be driving alone, particularly at this hour.”

      The heat Anna was trying to ignore manifested into a trickle of sweat streaking down her back. It was no less uncomfortable than the droplets condensing between her breasts, but she did her best to keep her tone and expression calm. “Probably not.”

      “So where are you heading?”

      “East.”

      “Did you happen to see any other vehicles?”

      “No…wait. Yes. Someone came up behind me once I started back to town. And come to think of it, there was a bright glow in the sky.” Preoccupied with her own problems, she hadn’t connected the two images until he’d brought it to her attention.

      “A bright glow like…streetlights or another vehicle?”

      “I honestly didn’t give it much thought. I was concerned with the dog.”

      “Right.” Frank nodded, all agreeableness. “Tell me what you can about the vehicle.”

      “There’s not much. It stayed behind me all the way back to town. I kept hoping it would pass me—”

      “Why?”

      “For exactly the reasons you mentioned. Also, I didn’t want to be forced to drive in a way that might cause the dog more pain.”

      “This dog that you’ve never seen before tonight?”

      Gray smirked. “You think I’m a hard case,” he told her, “when he’s bored, he plucks the legs off crickets and grasshoppers for entertainment.”

      “Not everybody sees sticking your hand up a cow’s butt as a religious experience,” Elias replied, crossing his arms over his chest. To Anna he added, “You were saying?”

      She shrugged. “It continued on by as I pulled in here. It was a white pickup truck.”

      “A pickup, wouldn’t you know it,” the chief drawled. “The one thing we have more of in Texas, aside from beautiful women and bullshit.”

      Once

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