Tangled With A Texan. Yvonne Lindsay

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Thirteen

       Fourteen

       Fifteen

       Epilogue

       About the Publisher

       One

      As if it wasn’t enough she’d had to hand over her additional casework to the rest of her already overloaded team, now she was headed all the way out to Royal, Texas. Zoe Warren was a city detective, hell, city girl, through and through. She already could start to feel her skin itch at the thought of cattle and cowboys and all that open pasture. Mind you, driving the three hundred or so miles to Royal had presented as a far more attractive option than facing yet another blind date set up by one of her four older brothers or her parents, who seemed to think she needed help settling down. And who said she wanted to settle down, anyway? She’d worked long and hard for her place on Houston P.D.’s detective squad, and her career trajectory was heading straight up. You weren’t a third generation cop without some dreams and goals ahead of you—and at only thirty years old, she had plenty of dreams and goals to fulfill while quite happily still single.

      Sure, one day it might be nice to get married, throw a couple more Warren genes into the pool of rapidly growing family her brothers and cousins were constantly adding to. But not right now. And not on her ever-loving family’s timetable, either.

      The open country that surrounded her had a raw beauty to it that even her citified eyes couldn’t help but appreciate. But always, in the back of her mind, she was working. As lead detective on the homicide case that was sending her on this journey, she was beginning to feel like the more they uncovered about the deceased, Vincent Hamm, the less they actually knew about him, and for her, following down each and every rabbit hole in Hamm’s life had become an obsession. The good thing about having this time on her own as she drove west toward Maverick County was that it gave her the opportunity for some thinking time. Time without the constant pressures that came with the responsibilities of her job.

      Everything about this case was off. First, the vic had disappeared into thin air, then he’d never shown back up for work, and after the floodwaters had receded at the site of the new Texas Cattleman’s Club being built in Houston, he was eventually found dead with his face destroyed. Whoever killed him had taken great pains to ensure he couldn’t be visually identified—although the floodwaters had taken their toll, too.

      Zoe took a swig of her water bottle and grunted in annoyance when she found it empty. Still, not long now and she’d be in Royal—she could stock up at a convenience store there. But first, a quick swing by the sheriff’s office was in order to make a courtesy visit and let them know that she’d arrived in the county. Nathan Battle, the sheriff, had made a personal visit to Houston to lend his support to the case. Her vic was the son of a friend of his and she’d expected Battle to be loudmouthed at the very least, and difficult at worst. Instead, she’d been quietly surprised by his demeanor. Oh, there was no mistaking the determination behind his promise to Hamm’s family to get to the root of who murdered their son, but he was a by-the-rules guy and his help here in Royal could prove invaluable to her investigation. She’d gone to great lengths to ensure she was doing everything in her power to bring the murderer to justice, and she was confident she’d earned the older man’s trust. She liked the guy. Not pushy, just determined. She respected that.

      About ten minutes later, guided by the GPS on her phone—without which she’d be totally lost anywhere, not having inherited the direction gene her brothers took for granted—Zoe pulled up outside the Royal sheriff’s office. Three minutes after that she was back in her car. Turned out the good sheriff was out on a call, but she’d left a message for him to phone her when he got back.

      She reprogrammed the GPS and found the midrange motel she’d booked just on the other side of town. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to check in and unpack. She called for updates from her colleagues back in Houston and let them know she’d arrived safely, then decided to take a short walk around town to stretch her legs and familiarize herself.

      Royal struck her as a prosperous town with a decent-sized population scurrying about their daily business. Being late afternoon, there were all kinds of people out and about. Business people, moms and kids, a handful of idlers loitering here and there, but overall the place had a good feel about it. She turned and headed back to the motel, her mind still churning over the facts of the case. Just as she reached her unit, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She slipped it out and looked at the screen. Nathan Battle.

      “Sheriff, thanks for calling,” Zoe answered.

      “Thanks for coming by and letting me know you’re in town. Did you want to meet?”

      “How about tomorrow afternoon?” she suggested, mentally reviewing her plans for tomorrow morning, which included following up on the lead that had brought her to Royal in the first place.

      She heard the flick of paper, followed by a grunt of assent. “Yup, works for me. I’ll meet you at the Royal Diner for coffee and a slice of pie, say, three o’clock?”

      Zoe’s stomach growled in response to the mention of food. “Sounds like a plan. See you then.”

      That would give her plenty of time to make the drive out to the Stevens ranch in the morning and ask a few questions. Hopefully more than a few. That cryptic message left on Hamm’s answering machine saying no more than “Thanks for nothing, Hamm” had spoken volumes when taking into account the tone of the speaker and the fact that Vincent Hamm had gone missing around the same time. They’d been able to trace the message to a local rancher, Jesse Stevens. Research had shown Stevens and Hamm had been friends at one time, but what had happened to drive them apart? Had it been enough to make Jesse Stevens want to kill his former friend?

      Stevens was quite a force here in Royal. The wealthy rancher was very involved in the politics of the local Texas Cattleman’s Club, and while Zoe may be grasping at straws, the fact that her vic had been found in the building currently being developed into a new Cattleman’s Club might not be such a coincidence after all. Right now, she had to look at everything. Pressure from the chief of police and Houston’s mayor was constant, and so far her team had little to show for their investigation. Her captain had pulled her aside just yesterday and asked her if she was getting stale. The question had made her bristle. Stale? When all she did lately was live, eat, sleep and breathe this case? Not likely. But he’d made it clear—he needed to see results or she might be stood down.

      Thinking about it, Zoe reached a decision. She didn’t want to wait until morning to go face-to-face with Stevens. She could drive out to his ranch right now. October sunset wasn’t until around seven, which gave her three hours of daylight. Plus, the element of surprise would be in her favor if she just rolled up without an appointment. She opened her map app on her phone and pulled up the address she’d saved for Stevens’s ranch before leaving Houston. The ranch was outside Royal and isolated. Nothing but pasture and cattle. Zoe ignored the itch between her shoulder blades and got into her car, set her phone in the hands-free holder and hit Start on the journey planner.

      The drive took longer than she expected, but as she pulled through the gates of