No Escape (Texas Rangers 2) - Page 7

“I assumed your time must be getting mighty short. It’s not often you request visitors.”

Jo always considered herself an expert at couching her emotions. But as she listened to Brody’s relaxed cadence, with no hint of the anger she’d heard in the hallway moments ago, she realized she was in the presence of a master manipulator. If she’d only just met these two, she’d bet they were good friends.

“Well, I am glad you are doing well,” Smith said, avoiding the comment. “But if you don’t mind, Sergeant Winchester, I’d like a word with Dr. Granger.”

“By all means.”

Smith shifted his gaze back to Jo. “I’ve read about you in the newspapers. You were involved in that case last year. What did the paper call that killer?”

She sat silent, knowing he wasn’t looking for an answer.

“The Interstate Killer. That’s right. Left the bodies along Interstate 35. Interesting fellow.”

Jo had no intention of discussing an old case. “Mr. Smith, I understand you summoned me here to discuss the location of three bodies.”

He smiled and pulled in a labored breath. “Cut to the chase. Direct. I do like that about you, Dr. Jo Granger.”

She resisted the urge to shift in her seat. “I’ve always found direct works best.”

He leaned forward a fraction. “I agree. But as much as I’d like to cut to the chase, I don’t want this interview over before it really gets started. I don’t get visitors very often.”

He flexed the bony fingers of his right hand and she thought about those same hands holding a shovel and burying his victims alive. She tried to imagine the horror of being dragged away from the world, terrorized and then lying in a shallow grave as this man heaped dirt on your body and finally your face. She tried to imagine fighting for air as every cell in your body screamed for oxygen.

Smith was charming, and he was pure evil. Though she wanted to remind Smith she didn’t care a whit for him or this chat, she thought about the three families that had lost loved ones but had never found their bodies. They’d gone for years without closure, and if she could play this game a little longer she might be able to give them some sense of peace.

Taking a cue from Brody’s behavior, she leaned into her elbows, the phone pressed to her ear. “What would you like to discuss, Mr. Smith?”

“You.”

“Me?” She kept her smile fixed and polite, but tension banded the muscles in her back. “Why would I be of any interest to you?”

His dark gaze sharpened. “My directness has made you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all. However, your interest in me is a surprise.”

“On the contrary. You’re a bright woman, Dr. Granger. You graduated top of your class from UT a year ahead of schedule and what scholarships didn’t pay for, you paid for yourself by working as a beautician.”

Discomfort slithered over her skin. “You know a lot about me. Why the interest?”

“I admire your intelligence. I find there is less and less of it in the world, and when I see it I give credit where credit is due.”

“Thank you.”

“Your parents should be proud.”

Discussing her life was one matter, but bringing her parents into the discussion was another. Her father, an electrician, had passed away five years ago. He’d never been thrilled about her choice of psychology as a major, fearing she’d never be able to make a living with such a froufrou degree. Her mother was a beautician and owned her own shop in Austin. Candace Granger had never earned her high school degree, and though she wanted the best for Jo, she didn’t understand Jo’s interest in school.

“They were always supportive.”

Keen eyes narrowed a fraction. “Did you find it tough being the only intellectual in a working-class family?”

Her grip on the phone tightened. “I’m not sure where this is heading, Mr. Smith.”

“I see parallels between us. You see, I was the only one in my family to go to college and graduate school. My father was a truck driver, and he did not appreciate a son more interested in books than football. I often had to hide in the fields behind our farm when I wanted to read.”

Why had he seen fit to draw a parallel between them? Was it to feed his ego or to unsettle her? “Your academic career was distinguished.” The career that followed wasn’t exceptional. His itinerant lifestyle had been part of the reason he’d stayed clear of law enforcement’s notice for so long.

“Learning came easily and naturally for me, as it did you. I still can spend hours and hours rereading the classics.”

She thought about the half-read copy of Huckleberry Finn on her nightstand. How many times had she read it? But she wasn’t here to vent or to share her true thoughts. She was here to discover the location of the missing bodies.

“What about your writing, Mr. Smith? How has that been going? I understand at one point you wanted to write a novel.”

He shrugged. “Without the muses I’ve not been as productive as I could have been, but I do manage to put pen to paper every day.”

“Am I here so you can tell me about the missing muses?”

“In part, yes.”

He would draw this out for hours if she allowed it. “I appreciate your need to talk, I do. Time no doubt is dear to you. But it is important that I find out the location of those three women. It’s time to offer their families peace.”

“Peace for the families?” That amused him. “Those women had no real families or stability in their lives, and they thought I offered it.”

He wasn’t being entirely truthful. Two of the girls had lived on the streets but Tammy, the last to vanish, had been in a halfway house. She’d had several rough years but was putting her life back on track. “Mr. Smith.”

His eyes sparked with keen interest. “You are persistent. I like that. Do you know when you get angry or annoyed your eyes flash a little greener. If you were playing poker right now, I’d have identified that hint of emotion as your Tell. You do know what a Tell is, don’t you, Dr. Granger?”

A Tell was a change in behavior that signaled emotion to the opponent. “You don’t know me so well.”

“I know you, like I know myself.” He sighed as he sat back. “But you are right. I summoned you here for a different reason.” Without taking his gaze off her, he said to Brody, “Got a pencil and paper, Sergeant?”

“All being recorded,” Brody said, his voice smooth and easy.

For a moment Jo had been engrossed with Smith, and she’d forgotten Brody was there. However, her heartbeat steadied at the sound of his voice. All their issues aside, she knew he’d protect her, no matter what.

“When you start talking,” Brody said easily, “I promise we won’t miss a single detail.”

Smith smiled, but before he could speak he began coughing. A minute passed before he caught his breath. “The devil is in the details.”

“That is a misquote,” Jo said. “The actual quote is, ‘God is in the details.’”

Smith laughed. “Quite right, Dr. Granger. Quite right. My only regret is that you and I don’t have more time. I’d love to have discussed politics with you or played chess. Are you a good chess player, Dr. Granger?”

“I hold my own.”

“You are modest.”

“Our games and conversations would have been interesting. I could have given you enough insight to transform your dissertation into a book.”

For a moment she imagined wistfulness in his gaze. “The bodies are located off Rural Route Twelve exactly fifteen miles west of Austin. There is an old farm. I’ve not been there in several years but at the time a large tree marked the right turn off Route Twelve onto a dirt road. Follow the dirt road over three miles and you’ll see an old shed or at least what remains. The bodies are buried one hundred and twenty feet due east of the structure. They’re lined up in a single row. Find one and you’ll find the others.”

His casual, easy manner didn’t soften the horror of what he’d said. Three women. Brutalized. Buried alive. And he spoke about them as if they were insignificant.

“Thank you for the detailed information, Mr. Smith,” Jo said. She thought about what he’d said about her eyes and hoped they’d not flared and betrayed her anger. “May I ask why you’ve chosen to reveal the location of the bodies? You’ve resisted all questions and refused to tell anyone.”

“That is a fair question.” He traced a deep purple vein running under his paper-thin skin. “I did not come to this decision lightly.”

Tags: Mary Burton Texas Rangers Mystery
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