Justice for a Ranger. Rita Herron

waited on a ransom note, one that hadn’t arrived. The police had grown suspicious, then finally they’d decided the fake kidnapping/murder had turned sour.

      More details on the family dynamics had been disclosed. Lou Anne Wallace, Leland’s second wife, had been spoiled and supposedly married Leland for his money. She had her own kids, Anna and Sarah, and didn’t want custody of Joey or Justin. She especially hadn’t wanted a screaming two-year-old. And she’d never given up her affairs.

      Cole grimaced. He imagined how miserable Joey must have felt, then clenched his jaw—he had to stop thinking about Joey Hendricks.

      But her mother, Donna, was another story. She’d hated LouAnne Wallace for marrying Leland. Donna had speculated that since LouAnne hadn’t wanted the kids around, she had helped Leland with his scheme. Others suspected Leland murdered LouAnne because she intended to go to the police about his illegal plan.

      But no one knew the truth.

      Then Sarah Wallace had come to town a few days ago, supposedly with new evidence, but she’d been murdered before revealing the details.

      All roads led back to the kidnapping/murder of Justin Hendricks. If they found out the truth about that night, they’d find the answers to the Wallace women’s murders.

      The door creaked open, and he froze with his coffee cup midway to his mouth as Joey walked in. She looked gorgeous and sexy as hell. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a clip at her nape, and she wore jeans that outlined those long legs and her tight butt, and a soft, feminine blouse that gaped above her cleavage. His mouth watered.

      Last night she had admitted she hadn’t spoken to her parents in years. He wondered what kind of fireworks would fly this morning between her and Donna.

      What exactly did Donna Hendricks know about her son’s disappearance and the murders of the Wallace women?

      JOEY HAD BRACED herself to see her mother, but the sight of Donna holding a coffeepot, looking so domestic, nearly bowled her over.

      She didn’t know this woman at all.

      Her mother had been a sloppy drunk. Joey had rescued her from brawls, helped her stagger inside the house when she’d passed out on the lawn, cleaned up her messes and put her to bed.

      She’d also dragged her away from the nasty fights with her father, Donna screaming that her father was a lying, cheating bastard, Leland shouting back that Donna was a drunken whore.

      Her mother glanced up at the door, then saw her and visibly paled.

      Joey’s throat constricted. What had she expected? For her mother to race toward her with open arms and a welcoming hug? For forgiveness for not taking better care of Justin? For the unconditional love she’d never offered?

      The room grew quiet, tension vibrating through the diner that smelled of hot sausages, coffee and cinnamon rolls. Her stomach roiled. Steeling herself against the small-town gossip and whispers, she glanced across the room, searching. For what she didn’t know. A familiar face? An old friend?

      Not that she had any here.

      Then she spotted Cole McKinney. In a sea of strangers, he looked like the least vicious of the sharks.

      Heaven help her, but she headed straight for his table. Her legs felt shaky, and she clutched the table edge, then slid into the chair across from him without waiting for an invitation. He cocked one dark brow, then offered her a sideways smile of understanding. Her heart fluttered wildly, and she felt like kissing him.

      Ridiculous.

      Then again, she’d struggled with that same feeling the night before. A temptation she had resisted.

      For good reason, too. She had no time for a fling or romantic entanglement, especially with Cole McKinney.

      Although the first part of the night she’d spent fantasizing about what might have happened if she had relented. One hot kiss would have led to another. Then tawdry, naked, wild sex.

      “Good mornin’,” he said in a sexy drawl.

      Was it? She wanted to growl. She’d heard him next door tossing and turning and pacing the floor the night before, as well.

      She had to inform the Mathesons that the inn walls needed better insulation against the noise.

      She nodded anyway, though, unable to speak. Her voice was lost somewhere in between fantasies of Cole, the tremors remaining from her nightmare this morning and the stunned look on her mother’s face.

      Donna slowly walked toward her.

      Joey swallowed, then noticed the files that Cole shoved into a folder. Files about the murders. Files about her missing brother. An old photo of her and her parents at the police station being questioned after Justin’s disappearance.

      His solemn look told her he understood her discomfort.

      He had no idea. She was behaving irrationally. Running to him as if he was her friend. As if he could save her from herself and her family when he’d come here to investigate every last one of them.

      Cole McKinney had no real connections to the town or her family. If he found any dirty secrets hiding in the closet, he would have no qualms about exposing them.

      No, he wasn’t her friend. Couldn’t help her.

      No one could.

      Chapter Four

      Donna Hendricks’s heels clicked ominously in the sudden stillness of the room. Cole watched, scrutinizing every movement. The other patrons craned their necks and their conversations quieted. Apparently they were as interested in the unfolding drama between mother and daughter as he was.

      Although Joey tried to camouflage her nervous reaction, her breath rattled in the quiet tension as Donna paused beside the table.

      “Joey…when did you get to town?”

      Joey turned a steady, unemotional gaze on her mother. “Last night.”

      Donna placed a coffee mug on the table, filled it for her daughter and glanced at Cole in question as if to ask if they were together. “Where are you staying?”

      “I reserved a room at the Matheson Inn.”

      Donna wet her ruby-red lips with her tongue. “And who’s your friend here?”

      A small smile curved Joey’s mouth as if she was taking some perverse pleasure in watching her mother squirm. Or maybe in being seen with him in a town that lived for the rumor mill.

      “This is Cole McKinney,” Joey said. “Sergeant Cole McKinney, Texas Rangers.”

      Donna’s mouth widened into a shocked O, then she narrowed her penciled eyebrows. “You’re Jim McKinney’s other son?”

      Cole gritted his teeth at her condescending tone and gave a clipped nod. He would never call the man his father.

      Donna pressed a shaky hand to her throat. “Then you’re here about the investigation into Sarah Wallace’s murder?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Donna angled her head toward her daughter. “And what about you, Joey? Did you come to see me or your father?”

      Joey cradled the coffee mug between her hands. “The governor sent me to oversee the case, and handle the media.”

      Disappointment mingled with some other troubled emotion on Donna’s face. Pain? Guilt? Fear of being exposed? “I see. Have you talked to Leland yet?”

      Joey’s look turned more strained. “No, but I’m sure I will. The Rangers will undoubtedly question him again. And I plan to sit in on all the interrogations.”

      Donna studied her daughter for a full minute without a reply. Then as if disappointed in Joey’s comment, she gestured toward the menu. “Rosa will come and take your order.”