Lone Star Christmas Witness. Margaret Daley

      Sierra closed her eyes for a few seconds, and when she opened them again, a man over six feet tall, dressed in a long-sleeve white shirt, with a blue tie, an off-white cowboy hat and tan pants, headed toward her. Her focus latched onto the circular star badge he wore slightly to the left, over his heart. A Texas Ranger—which usually meant not a routine crime.

      The Texas Ranger with deep green eyes and dark brown hair held out his arm. “Sierra Walker?”

      She shook his hand. “Yes. What has happened here?” Her voice quavered, and she swallowed hard, trying to prepare herself for the worst—Mindy was in the body bag.

      “There’s no good way to say this. A shooter came to the clinic right before it opened and shot everyone who was here. Is Dr. Kathleen Markham your sister? That’s what the officer said.”

      Fear froze her lungs. “Yes. Is she hurt bad?” Please don’t let her be the person in the body bag.

      “I’m Texas Ranger Taylor Blackburn. Let’s go in here.” He motioned toward a room behind the receptionist desk.

      Part of the area was partitioned for her workplace. “My office is back there.” Moving forward, Sierra made the mistake of glancing down the main hallway, and when her eyes lit on a male body by the back door, she stumbled.

      A hand grasped her arm, and the Texas Ranger stopped her from falling. Heat flushed her cheeks. “I wasn’t expecting that. Who is it? Dr. Porter?”

      He looked down at her. “Yes, it’s him.”

      She stared into those green eyes, and in that moment, she knew no one survived the mass shooting. Kathleen! Ben! Mindy and the others. Tears sprang into her eyes and blurred her vision. “Is my sister’s body still here?”

      “No. It was the first one removed. Let’s go to your office.” He gestured to the room filled with file cabinets.

      Sierra nodded. As she made her way there, she averted her face and wiped the wet tracks from her cheeks. She couldn’t even bring herself to ask about Ben. She’d helped raise her seven-year-old nephew since he was born, especially while Kathleen was a resident with long hours then when she started the clinic. For his first few years, Sierra’s life had revolved around him.

      As Texas Ranger Blackburn closed the door, she leaned against her desk to help support her. A huge lump clogged her throat, and she gulped—several times—before she felt she could ask him the question she’d never thought she would say. “My nephew, Ben, was here with his mom. Is he—”

      The Texas Ranger closed the space between them, his green eyes softening. “Ben is the only person who survived.”

      At first, she thought she hadn’t heard correctly. She started to question him, but his look of compassion gave her hope. “How?”

      “He hid in a cupboard in your sister’s office. Most likely the shooter didn’t know he was there.”

      Opposite emotions—happiness for Ben and a deep sadness for Kat—assailed her. She shut her eyes and tried to compose her thoughts. “Where is he? Can I see him?”

      “Soon. First, you and I need to talk.”

      “But he has to be frightened. What has he said?”

      “Nothing. Since I took him from the cupboard, he hasn’t cried or said anything.”

      “He’s in shock.”

      “Yes, and we have someone with him right now.” He gestured toward a chair nearby. “Sit. Let’s talk. The child psychologist I called will be through soon.”

      Everything around Sierra vanished, and all she saw was the law enforcement officer, taking a seat across from her. How had she ended up sitting down? She didn’t even remember doing that. She had to be dreaming. Any moment she would wake up and see Kathleen and Ben.

      “Ms. Walker, are you okay?” Concern laced the Texas Ranger’s deep voice.

      She blinked, and reality zoomed into focus. “No. What do you want to ask me? I want to be with Ben as soon as possible. He has to feel...” As numb and lost as I am?

      “Were you at the clinic at any time this morning?”

      “No. I left our house and went right to an eight o’clock meeting with the clinic’s accounting firm. The meeting was over at ten thirty, and I came straight here.”

      “What’s the name of the accounting firm?”

      For a few seconds, she became defensive, her hands curling into a ball. How in the world could he think she might have something to do with the killings? She cared for everyone at the clinic, especially Mindy, and her sister had been more like a mother to her since their mom died when Sierra was twelve.

      “Jones Smith Accounting. We’ve been a client for the past five years. Zachery Jones was the partner I met with this morning. He’ll verify I was there between eight and ten thirty.”

      The Texas Ranger wrote down the information she gave him, then glanced up.

      She rose partway. “Now can I see Ben?”

      “I know this is hard, but I have a few more questions. Have there been any threats against the clinic or one of the employees recently?”

      She sat back down, trying to remember, but her mind felt as though it were on overload. She shook her head. “I don’t think...” Something nagged at her, but the thought stayed at the back of her mind, vague and muddy.

      “What is it?” the Texas Ranger prompted.

      She tried to focus, rubbing her forehead, and then she recalled. “It was last summer. There was a father who blamed Dr. Porter for his daughter’s death, but he was grieving at the sudden turn of events. Dr. Porter did everything he could.”

      “Who?”

      “I’d have to look back through the files.”

      “Anyone else?”

      “Another patient was mad because he was still in pain and wanted more medication. My sister wouldn’t write a prescription. She’s especially careful about that because of the opiate crisis. That situation happened last month. The guy’s name was Bruce Lockhart.” Tension pounded against her temples. Her nerves were stretched so tight she wondered if they would snap in two. “I can’t think of anyone else right now. I need to look through the appointment log and possibly the records. But even then, I might not be able to come up with more. I work all day in here, and don’t have a lot to do with the patients. Something could have happened, and I might not know about it.” She paused. “Although Mindy usually kept me informed, even about the employees’ personal life, but nothing to warrant this.”

      “Are the doors to the clinic kept locked until it opens?”

      “Yes. It gives the staff time to meet if needed.”

      “Who has a key to the building?”

      “I do. Also my sister, Dr. Porter and Colin Brewer. He’s a nurse and he’s been here from the beginning. Everyone who has a key also has the alarm system code. After the employees who don’t have a key arrive, the front door is locked until it’s time to open.”

      He wrote down the names, the lines on his face deepening. “Where is Ben’s father?”

      When Sierra thought about Kalvin and what he’d done, she couldn’t help but frown. “He left Kathleen a few months after Ben was born. He gave her full custody and walked away. He’s never contacted her. The last she knew he was overseas. That was a couple of years ago.”

      “What does he do?”

      “I don’t know. He was in security. That’s what he called it.”

      “What is Ben’s father’s name?”

      “Kalvin Markham.”

      “When