“I do,” Brody replied.
“Can I touch it?”
Brody shook his head, smiling. “No, sir. You got to be a might bigger before that can happen.”
Travis cocked his head. “I’ll be six next month.”
Brody considered the new bit of information. “No, I don’t believe that will be old enough.”
“What about your hat?” Tyler said.
Brody squatted. “I don’t see how that could hurt anything. Have a look.”
The boys scrambled close, each staring at the hat as if it were solid gold.
“What’s that around the band?” Travis said.
“A silver concho. Belonged to a man who was a Ranger for thirty years. He gave it to me.”
“You ever shoot a bad guy?”
“Do you have a horse?”
Brody grinned at the rapid-fire questions.
Logan gently touched each boy on the head. “Okay, you two, you’ve seen enough. Now, I need you to scoot on to your rooms and I’ll be in presently.”
When the boys didn’t budge, Brody raised a brow as he stood to his full six-foot-four frame. “Sounded like an order to me, partners.”
The boys’ eyes widened and they turned and ran to their rooms.
Logan smiled after them. “I could use you around here more often, especially at bedtime when no one is able to listen to a word I say.”
Brody smiled. “Happy to help.”
She extended her hand to a well-worn sofa. “Have a seat. Can I get you a cup of coffee or a soda?”
“No, ma’am.” He sat, his large frame not quite fitting on the sofa. He waited until she’d taken a seat across from him in a Lay-Z-Boy before easing onto the edge of the couch. “I’ve come to tell you we found Tammy’s body.”
She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them for a moment. “I saw on the news last week that they’d found Christa Bogart in a shallow grave and I’d wondered. But every time I hear a story like that I wonder if Tammy’s also been found.” She raised her gaze to him. “I’m tired of wondering but I can’t help myself.”
His hat dangled on the edges of his long fingers. “It’s natural.”
A bitter frown twisted her lips. “Funny you should come here today. I heard on the news that Smith died. Heart attack. Cheated the needle and cancer.”
Brody had kept Smith’s death under wraps until the midday news. No telling what Robbie would do when he got wind of Smith’s death, but Brody hoped it forced a mistake.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She met his gaze, all hints of softness gone. “I’m sorry they weren’t able to execute him properly. I’d have had a front row seat for that.”
He’d seen mixed reactions from those who’d witnessed executions. Some experienced vindication while others remained as hollow as ever. But there was no point in telling her. No one understood until they lived it.
“I don’t suppose you know how she died.”
“No, ma’am. The medical examiner wasn’t able to determine cause of death.”
“Like the others, most likely.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She twisted the folds of her apron in her hands. “Tammy made her share of mistakes, but she was trying to get herself together. I thought she’d made it.” She was silent before straightening. “Well, I appreciate you coming to tell me.”
Case closed. Killer dead. And still inadequacy gnawed at him because he knew Smith’s legacy continued to kill and destroy more families like the Myers family. “I wanted to see it through.”
“Thank you.”
Smith had skirted justice. But he’d be damned if his apprentice would.
The news of Smith’s death didn’t reach Robbie until late in the day. He’d been busy all day with work, away from TV and radio. The first time he’d heard the news he’d been driving home.
Stunned and not sure if he’d heard correctly, he’d frantically punched buttons, trying to find another station that was reporting the news. When he couldn’t find one he’d rushed home and went straight to his computer. He’d searched Smith’s name and immediately the prison’s news release popped up.
Convicted Serial Killer Harvey Lee Smith died in West Livingston prison of an apparent heart attack.
Robbie sat back in his chair and stared at the screen. Smith had never had heart trouble. But, of course, since the cancer, maybe he’d weakened.
Blinking back tears, Robbie remembered that Smith didn’t approve of emotion. Keep your feelings hidden, boy, even in private. You never know who is watching.
Biting the inside of his mouth, he focused on the physical pain. But his emotions wouldn’t be corralled and he was left with a burning sense of sadness and loss. Harvey was dead. Harvey was dead.
There’d been a time when he’d thought the indestructible Harvey would live forever.
Harvey had plucked him from a rancid hand-to-mouth existence. He’d given him an education. A purpose.
There was so much he owed Harvey. So much he wanted to give in return. And though he’d killed and shown Harvey he could man up, a deep sense of lacking would not lift from his shoulders.
Robbie tapped the keys of his computer. Harvey had always wanted to connect with that damn kid of his, and as much as Robbie resented the old man’s love for that child, he knew Harvey had suffered for not knowing his kid.
He searched her name on the Internet. Dr. Jolene Granger. Images of Jo Granger popped up and he stared at them for a long, long time.
“Sure I’d like to see her,” Harvey had once said. “But a scorpion’s nature doesn’t change. Sooner or later I’d turn on her.”
Robbie smiled as he traced her face on the screen. “I can give you this last gift, Harvey. I can see to it that you and your baby girl are together forever.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tuesday, April 16, 9:00 A.M.
Jo’s support group meeting for the at-risk teen girls had gone well last night. She’d had a good turnout and the girls had been in high spirits. Two of the pre
gnant girls had talked about making an adoption plan for their babies. Jo had listened and offered to put them in touch with a good social worker if they were serious.
She’d hoped Sadie would show but, not surprisingly, the girl didn’t make the meeting. By the time Jo had arrived home, she’d been dead on her feet and still her sleep had been restless.
Yawning, she blinked and refocused on the open case file on her desk. She needed to get her work done so she could slip out in an hour. Today was Christa Bogart’s funeral.
When the receptionist buzzed her phone, she was actually glad for the interruption. “Dr. Granger.”
“Yes?” She pulled off her reading glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“There is a Ranger Brody Winchester here to see you.”
Jo sat straighter. “In the lobby now?”
“Yes. He’d like to see you.”
“I’ll be right down.”
She hung up, rose and tucked her already smooth blouse into her waistband. Moving toward the door, she peered at her reflection in a small mirror. Her gaze looked a little wild. She moistened her lips.
“Good Lord, Jo. What the devil has you riled up? He’s here on business, just the way it should be and always will be.”
She found Brody standing in the lobby chatting with the receptionist. Sammy, normally jaded and aloof, grinned up at Brody as if she were about to melt. Brody listened as she talked and managed a funny quip or two.
Jo’s own excited heart slowed a beat. She’d forgotten that Brody could be a charmer. He’d certainly charmed her in college, and like Sammy, she’d willingly lapped up every honey-coated word. The memory cooled her excitement so much that when she spoke her voice had a chill. “Ranger Winchester.”
The easy laughter faded from his gaze. “Dr. Granger.”
Aware Sammy watched them closely, she hid all traces of emotion. “What can I do for you?”
“Got an idea I’d like to run past you.”
“My office is this way.”
“After you, ma’am.”