Lone Star Standoff. Margaret Daley

THREE

      Sean rewound the video footage, paused it and zoomed in on the white vehicle, trying to make out the license plate. The last three numbers were 249, but he couldn’t make out the first part of it. “Is there something that makes you suspicious of that car?”

      Aubrey sat back on the couch. “When I saw it on the screen, it provoked a memory. I don’t remember seeing it when it was behind me. It was at least six cars back and hidden from my view in the rearview mirror. But when I left the parking lot at the clothing store, that white car pulled into it. The person must have turned around fast to be behind me when I went to Sweet Haven.”

      “Did you see the driver?”

      “I glanced for maybe a second or two in that direction. The glass was tinted too dark to make out the driver.”

      “White is the most common color for a vehicle. What makes you think the one in the parking lot is the same car on this footage?”

      “The driver’s-side back fender has a dent in it.” Aubrey leaned forward and tapped the computer screen. “There.”

      Sean focused onto the area she indicated. “It’s a Chevy Malibu. So the driver must have turned around in the clothing store parking lot as you said and quickly pulled back out into the traffic. I’ll follow up on this and see who owns the car.”

      She smiled. “I’m glad you could tell what make it was, because all I saw was a white car.”

      He chuckled. “It’s a man thing.” He punched the key to forward the video. “He didn’t park near the Sweet Haven Parlor.”

      “But he could have driven around to the street behind Sweet Haven and parked there, then made his way to where my car was. The lot was almost full. I parked at the back in the last space.”

      “There are a lot of ice-cream lovers in Port Bliss.” Sean closed his laptop and turned slightly toward her—only inches separated them. A blush tinted her cheeks pink. The dark brown—almost black—in her eyes transfixed him for a long moment.

      Finally she slid her gaze away. “Sweet Haven also has sandwiches for the lunchtime crowd.”

      Until that moment, he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. He inhaled deeply and rose. “I’ll keep you updated on what I find.”

      “What about the police officer outside? How long is he staying?”

      “If you go somewhere, an officer will follow you while another one will remain at your house.”

      “What do I say to Sammy, who’ll ask me a ton of questions about the officer being around?”

      “That you’re an important part of a case.”

      “What case?”

      “A secret one? Kids love secrets.”

      “Do you have children?”

      “No. I’m not married.” He had been once, but that ended the day he walked in on his wife with another man. He’d wanted to try to work it out, but she didn’t. They had gotten married too young, not even a full year after high school, where they had dated for their junior and senior years. She changed a lot, but so did he. He hadn’t realized how much until that moment of finding her with a man in their house.

      “Once I tell Sammy it’s a secret, I’ll never have any peace. He’ll want to know every detail.”

      He towered over Aubrey, still sitting on the couch. “Then simply tell him...” Sean couldn’t think of anything to say. “I have two nephews and one niece but haven’t seen them as much as I used to when I lived in Amarillo. You’ll figure something out.”

      “I’m glad you have so much confidence in me.” Her gaze latched onto his.

      And he couldn’t look away. There was something about her that had kept him up a good part of last night viewing the courthouse surveillance tapes and the traffic cams all around the places she went yesterday. Then early this morning, he got up and called the owner of Sweet Haven Parlor about their video footage. The man agreed to meet Sean at his store. He was there before the owner arrived. It gave him an opportunity to look around the building and parking lot next to it.

      Breaking eye contact, he stepped back, and in response to her last comment, he said, “Your reputation as a judge is excellent. Tough but fair.”

      “Some think those two words are opposites.” She stood and smiled. “But thank you. Coming from a law enforcement officer, your words mean a lot to me.”

      The temperature in the room seemed to rise. He moved back another couple of feet and bumped into the chair across from the couch, then tipped his hat. “I’ll keep you informed. ’Bye.” He started for the office door.

      “You forgot something.”

      His laptop. Heat burned his cheeks from embarrassment. He slowly rotated toward her and grabbed his computer. “Thanks.”

      When he left the house, he headed to the police officer sitting in his car in the driveway. “Officer Carter, call me if there’s anything odd going on.” He handed the younger man his business card. “And have the officer who replaces you do the same.”

      “Yes, sir. It’s been quiet. The only things that have happened are Judge Madison’s kids coming out here and you arriving.”

      “Let’s hope it stays that way.” Sean strode to his SUV and climbed into the driver’s seat.

      He drove to the police station, not far from the courthouse, to see the police chief, who usually worked Saturday mornings. Sean found him in his office and shook hands with him.

      “Officer Carter says everything is quiet at the judge’s house. What can I do for you?” Chief Juan Perez asked.

      “I’d like your officers to be on the lookout for a white Chevy Malibu, most likely a recent model with a dent in its driver’s-side back fender near the bumper. I have a partial Texas license plate number. The last three digits are two four nine. I’m heading to my office to run the information through the DMV, and I’ll let you know what I find. I believe the driver was responsible for putting the dead rat and the judge’s deceased husband’s lost wedding ring in her car trunk yesterday.”

      “Sure, I’ll let my police force know. Anything to help Judge Madison. I want the trial of Villa to go smoothly. Has anyone approached her about it?”

      “No. I’m not sure this has anything to do with Bento Villa. A judge can sway a verdict in some cases, but there are other ways to change the outcome of a trial that are more effective. How are the people testifying against Villa doing?”

      “Okay. The US Marshals are protecting the main person in an undisclosed place. In Villa’s case, there’s a lot of forensic evidence, as well as a video taken by a bystander.” The police chief leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “Could this have anything to do with her husband’s murder?”

      “Maybe, especially with returning the wedding ring. But why now, after two years have passed? I’ve been working on the case off and on since I came here, and not much new information has turned up.”

      “The crime didn’t happen in my jurisdiction. I’m glad you’re working it. Samuel was a good man.”

      “And the family should have closure.” He of all people realized that, since there was no resolution to what had happened to his brother. Sean pushed to his feet. “Thanks again for the officer sitting outside the judge’s house. I need to get to the courthouse before it shuts down for the weekend.”

      “Leave the information about the white car with my sergeant. He can run down the information you need and call you.”

      “Thanks.” Sean left the police chief’s office and stopped to give Sergeant Vic Daniels what he would need to