Her Texas Ranger Hero. Rebecca Winters

Luckey had recently attended, he’d learned that although Asians represented only 6 percent of Austin’s 800,000 residents, their population had surged by 60 percent since 2000. It was the fastest-growing group in the city by percentage and tripled the rate of Austin’s overall growth.

      “It doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me,” Luckey concurred. “Have you discussed this with anyone else?”

      “Nope. You know I can’t.”

      “Listen—I want to talk to you some more about this, but I’ve got to go in to a meeting right now. This one will probably last an hour. Expect a call from me after I get out.”

      “Thanks.”

      Luckey clicked off and headed for TJ’s office at the end of the hall. The gray-haired captain nodded as he walked in. “I’m surprised to see you remembered. I thought you might be home enjoying some well-deserved sleep after your last case.”

      “Not me. I like work.”

      His boss nodded again. “I know you do. But one of these days you need to take some time off.”

      “I do better being busy.”

      TJ’s eyes filled with concern. “I don’t want you to burn out.”

      Luckey blinked. “You think I am?”

      “Of course not. But my famous Four Sons of the Original Forty Texas Rangers have done a hell of a job for the department this last year. I want you to know you can have the time off if you feel you need it.”

      “Can I take a rain check on that?”

      He nodded.

      Good. “So what smorgasbord of corruption and evil are you going to lay out for me this morning?”

      TJ chuckled. “Take your pick of the latest Most Wanted cases that have come across my desk.” He riffled through the pile of files in front of him. “Armed robbery and murder of an armored-car guard. Kidnapping and brutal murder of two women, one of whom was set on fire in her wheelchair. The murder of a prominent CEO...or this latest one—a dead body dumped on the streets, a case that has the police detective stumped.”

      “I’ll take that one,” Luckey said without hesitation.

      TJ handed him the file. “Of course, it’s not a coincidence that your brother is mentioned in the abstract.”

      “Nothing gets past you, Captain.”

      His boss made an odd sound. “Go ahead and read it. Afterward I’ll tell you what the police commissioner told me.”

      Luckey read the short paragraph to himself. “March 2. 2:20 a.m. Officers Mendez and Davis came across one Asian female of undetermined age found dead a block from the Underground Nightclub in the warehouse district of Austin, Texas. No witnesses. Died of gunshot wound to the back.”

      “It’s sparse, all right,” he finally muttered.

      TJ leaned forward. “The commissioner informed me that this is the fourth unsolved dumped body in less than a year. One was Indonesian, the other three of Chinese ethnicity. None had ties to friends or family found so far. No matches of their pictures to passport photos from China or Indonesia. No evidence that these girls were in school here, or had jobs and were here on working visas.

      “The police have circulated pictures of the women everywhere, hoping someone will identify them, but investigations haven’t turned up anything.”

      Luckey frowned. “Did they cover the strip clubs and spas, not to mention the massage parlors?” To be thorough they needed to check out modeling studios, cantinas and residential brothels as well, but it was a grueling process.

      “If they did, they’ve had no success.”

      Luckey had his work cut out for him. “Sex trafficking is also common in the agricultural, restaurant and nail salon industries.”

      TJ shot him a glance. “The commissioner is convinced they were victims of trafficking and has turned the case over to us. What does your brother think? Between him and your father, you’re not all Davises for nothing.”

      The compliment didn’t escape Luckey. “Randy disagrees that the deaths were random acts of violence. He sees a pattern and believes they’re related.”

      “I’m sure he’s right. If anyone can figure it out, you can. Where are you going to start?”

      “I want to see the latest body.”

      “If you need backup later, just holler. Good luck.”

      “Thanks, Captain.”

      Intrigued by this new case, Luckey got up from the chair and headed out of the building to the car park. Once inside his XC90 Volvo, he drove to the county coroner’s office. En route he phoned his brother.

      “Guess what? The case of the dead body you discovered has been turned over to the Rangers by the police commissioner.”

      “What?”

      “I was surprised, too. The captain agrees with your assessment that the four deaths are related. I’ve taken the case. Kind of gives you chills.” When Randy’s application to join the Rangers came up, Luckey would remind his boss of their conversation.

      “Well, what do you know? I’d give anything to be working this case with you.”

      “As long as we keep it to ourselves, who says you can’t help when you’re off duty? We’ve done it before. I’m going to the morgue to find out as much as I can. I’ll get back to you.”

      “Thanks.”

      * * *

      TEN MINUTES LATER, Luckey knocked on the door of the coroner’s private office.

      “Luckey? What can I do for you?”

      “How are you, Dr. Wolff?” He’d had a working relationship with the forensics expert for years. Luckey handed him the file.

      The older man studied it before nodding. “I examined the body last week. She was probably a sixteen-or seventeen-year-old Chinese woman, shot in the back with a .357 cal SIG Sauer.”

      “How long had she been dead when she was found?”

      “Six or seven hours.”

      “According to my source, three other bodies of Asian women have been found on the streets in the last ten months and there’ve been no arrests made. I’d like to know their approximate ages, manner of death, everything you’ve got.”

      “You’re welcome to the information in the files. But first, come over here. There’s something unique about this particular body. I would like to show you a piece of evidence that has me puzzled.”

      Dr. Wolff walked to a shelf holding some labeled boxes and took one down. After lifting the lid, he showed Luckey the soiled, bloodstained, pale pink silk dress inside, folded so that the hole made by a bullet was visible.

      “The young woman was wearing this when her body was brought in. Here. Put on some gloves.”

      Luckey pulled out a pair from the carton and slipped them on.

      “Go ahead and look on the underside of the skirt,” the doctor urged.

      Curious, he turned it inside out. To his surprise he saw writing on the material, all the way around from the waist down, unusual characters that meant nothing to him. His brows knit together. “Is this Chinese?”

      “It looks like a form of it, but none of our experts here recognize it. Don’t let your eyes deceive you. What is written here was not done in red ink, but blood. Her blood.”

      Luckey moaned inwardly. “I need copies of the pictures you took of the writing.”

      “Certainly. Anything you want.”

      “Did the detective investigating