Body of Evidence (2 page)

Anderson saw the passion and the sincerity in her eyes. She would work hard to complete her father's dream. And she might even do that at the risk of everything else, including her own safety.

“I think that's mighty admirable of you. And I don't want to interfere with that. But…you need to be careful. The people we're dealing with are ruthless and determined. They'll stop at nothing to keep moving drugs through Texas.”

And he couldn't even tell her the worst of it—that the group pulling the strings was allegedly compiled of some prominent Texans calling themselves the Lions of Texas and they wanted to open the border between Mexico and Texas. Ridiculous, since it would require changing federal law and make their drug running all
that much easier. “These people are powerful, Jennifer. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“I think I do,” she replied, getting up to take their cups to the sink. “Whether I like it or not, you're empowered by law to be on my property. I can't interfere with a Ranger case, and I can't allow vandalism on my property, but I have to tell you I don't like it one bit. And…
I
don't expect
you
to interfere with my work while you're here. I have to get that alligator pond built. The boys need more room and more fencing, for their protection and for the protection of people touring this place. I have all the proper licenses and permits, and I have non-profit status. I could lose that if I'm not up to code.”

“I understand. I'm not here to shut you down or disturb your work. And I don't blame you for being a tad agitated, but I have to do my job.”

“And I have to do mine, all bad guys aside. But you need to know something about me, Ranger Michaels. I don't back down easily.” She whirled at the sink and gave him a level stare. “And…I know how to use just about every weapon known to man. My father taught me to take care of myself. So don't worry on my account.”

Anderson nodded and refrained from suggesting that she shouldn't be so bold and brave in this case. But he knew that wouldn't do any good right now. He could tell she wasn't too keen on having him around. “Point taken. Now, if you could show me to the bunkhouse, I'll get settled in and report back to my captain that I'm here.”

“Okay,” she said, wiping her hands down her pants. “We'll get you situated, then you can come back for
supper. I made some chili earlier and you're welcome to share it.”

“Thanks.” Anderson was hungry and he did need to talk to her about what she did around here, her routine, the people who came and went. Might as well do that over supper. “We can go over some things. I'll explain how I'll go about my work and what you need to do to help me.”

She grabbed a set of keys off a peg by the door. “Sounds fair, since I have to protect and care for my animals. So I intend to go over my rules with you and I expect you to abide by those rules at all times. Think you can handle that, Ranger?”

Anderson put on his hat and tipped it toward her.

“Yes,
ma'am.
”

She didn't frown at the exaggerated answer as he'd expected. Instead, she grinned and pointed toward a side door. “Right this way,
sir.
”

Anderson smiled as he watched her prancing in front of him, her old Frye boots clicking with each step.

He'd sure have his work cut out for him, trying to run down a cartel and trying to keep this woman safe at the same time. It might turn out to be a lot harder than he'd planned. And a whole lot more interesting.

T
he man sure came prepared.

Jennifer watched as he lugged in a laptop, digital cameras, a recorder, a set of high-powered binoculars and a set of various flashlights. Not to mention the 12-gauge Remington shotgun, the Ruger Mini-14 automatic rifle and the slick, black pistol peeking out from his shoulder holster. And all the while his star-shaped silver badge, forged in the Ranger tradition from the
cinco peso
—a Mexican coin—winked over his heart at her each time his jacket fell open.

Even though he was dressed like any Texas man might be, Ranger Anderson Michaels wore the badge well and fit the bill from the top of his tan hat to the bottom of his Tony Lama boots. Jennifer watched as he purposely and meticulously placed his equipment on the shelves near one of the three bunks in the long, lonely room.

Forget the equipment inventory or the fact that she seriously needed to renovate this place. She rather liked surveying the man. Tall and built—nice. Crisp curls of wispy dark blond hair cut close to his head—nice. Wrangler jeans with a knife-pressed crease over rich brown
no-nonsense boots—impressive. White button-down shirt with a hint of Western stitching around the collar and cuffs—sigh. And a brushed-suede, burnished-tan sportscoat that looked adorably worn in all the right places, especially over the broad shoulders—double sigh.

And each time he shifted his arms to put away some thing, she also saw the gun holster underneath his jacket.

“I guess I'm settled in.”

Jennifer lifted her head to find Anderson staring at her with those golden-brown cougar eyes and immediately felt like a nocturnal creature staring into a forbidden window.

Wishing she hadn't impulsively asked him to dinner, she said, “Oh, right. I guess you are. I'll just go and heat up that chili.”

He gave her a little half smile. “I'll get freshened up, make some calls and be back at the main house in about half an hour.”

“That should work.”

That would give Jennifer time to wipe this silly schoolgirl fuzziness right out of her brain. The man was here to do a job and from the looks of things, he was so focused and single-minded, he probably hadn't even noticed she was a woman. Too bad she had her own work to concentrate on. Or maybe, a good thing she did have work to concentrate on. 'Cause she sure didn't need to walk around sighing about a good-looking Ranger. Hadn't she learned from her parents' divorce that good-looking, adrenaline-junkie-type men didn't make great husband material?

Yes, she certainly had, and she would bet the farm that Anderson Michaels got a rush out of fighting crime much in the same way her dynamic father had gotten a rush out of stalking snakes and alligators. That didn't leave much room for home and hearth.

She only wished she could tell her girlfriends about Anderson next time they headed in to San Antonio for a girl's night out.

 

Anderson looked out the window of the bleak bunkhouse, watching Jennifer walk back to the main cabin. Only one security light for the whole place and it was as weak as a flickering candle at that. Did the woman even think about her own safety at all? She was a sitting duck out here alone at night with drug runners in her backyard.

Anderson didn't want to think what might happen if Jennifer tried to tangle with these nasty squatters. He'd seen enough crime scenes involving drug wars to know the drill—torture, mutilations and slow, horrible deaths. He couldn't imagine that happening to this woman.

Even though he was here to watch and observe, he wouldn't
let
that happen to Jennifer Rodgers.

So he checked in with his new captain, Ben Fritz, trying to stay focused on the case. “Yeah, it's me. I'm at the rescue farm and in the bunkhouse. As a courtesy, I alerted the local sheriff, too. He wasn't too keen on not being in on the investigation, but I'm hopeful he'll stay out of the way unless needed. As for Jennifer Rodgers, it was a hard sell, but for now I'm on the case. And not a minute too soon. She said someone's been messing with a new alligator pen she's just started building on the
back of her property. This place is sure off the beaten path and has about as much security as an open-air flea market. Easy pickings.”

He heard Ben let out a breath. “Be careful. Just watch and learn for now. We need to find out if anyone around there has seen either Eddie Jimenez or our mysterious coma victim. Or anyone else we can tie to this case, for that matter. And remember, I want you to follow up on any leads we get from that photo we released of our comatose suspect.”

“Got it.” Anderson planned to lock and load, too, if need be. “I can tell you right now, the place is way too isolated for my tastes. A woman alone out here—”

“Careful, buddy. That woman might think she has it all under control. You can advise her, but it's up to her to listen.”

“Yeah, well, these are dangerous thugs. They don't respect women.”

“I know that and so do you. Part of your job is to convince said woman of that. And your main reason for being there is to try and catch these thugs in the act, not become a bodyguard.”

“I always get the hard cases.”

“You're good at the hard cases. Just keep the drop site under surveillance and see if there's been any recent activity, maybe talk to some of the neighbors and the workers. Look for any kind of evidence we might use. Then wait and see if we get any more activity out there.”

“I plan to go out to the site as soon as possible,” Anderson replied. “According to what she told me tonight, things are already heating up around here. She
saw a man running away from a cut fence the other day. Could get dicey.”

“Keep an eye on her. Those drug runners won't like anyone messing around in what they consider their territory. And neither will the Lions if they get wind of this. If they risk showing up again back there, we have to catch 'em in the act.”

“I thought I wasn't a bodyguard.”

“Not yet. But you can't stand by and let her walk right into the middle of this, either.”

“Got it.”

Anderson put away his cell, thinking Ben was a fine one to talk about stubborn, independent women. He was so in love with Corinna Pike it wasn't funny. But it was sweet and nice, if you went for that kind of thing. Anderson was too married to his work for such nonsense, or so his mother and his baby sister told him with disgust each time the family had Sunday dinner.

“One day, son, that tune's gonna change into a whole different melody,” his mother would always say. “Then we'll be hearing the ‘Wedding March.'”

Jennifer Rodgers came to mind.

“Maybe one day, Mama.”

But not today. And not anytime soon. Anderson had a strict code that required he stay focused on the case. He'd learned early on that being a Ranger was tough on family life. So he just played at dating here and there, mostly when his mother would force some nice woman on him. Never worked out. They usually ran away screaming because of his heavy work schedule and his inability to commit.

So his rule was steadfast. Get in, get the job done and keep moving.

His goal while here was to find out as much as he could about the drug runners using this land and to hopefully catch one or two. Catching one of the Lions of Texas would be even better since the Rangers had a hunch that some of the Lions often met up with the lower cartel members back there. Couple that with trying to protect a stubborn woman and, well, Anderson would be busy around the clock. No time for a love life.

His stomach growled, reminding him of that chili up at the cabin. Looking around, Anderson decided he could do all right in the austere confines of this old bunkhouse. The dusty, outdated place wasn't user-friendly in a cozy kind of way, but it was functional, and besides, he planned to spend most of his nights out on the property.

A mean late-fall wind howled and hollered through the open pasture across from the cabin. It had already been a rainy week and from the look of those dark clouds over the horizon, more rain might come. Anderson followed the aged, worn trail past the many out-buildings and animal pens, noticing smoke curling from the big chimney. That did look cozy.

He'd studied this track of land, using old maps and internet sites to clarify just how much additional land Jennifer had bought up after Martin Rodgers' death in a boating accident on the Amazon River. From what Anderson could tell, she'd had a fairly large piece of property to begin with but she'd added around twenty-five additional acres. Anderson would have to find the
seller and ask that person about any suspicious activities, too.

“Wonder where her mother is?” Anderson muttered to himself while he tapped mud off his boots, then knocked on the side door at the back of the cabin. Another question to ask, he thought.

Jennifer opened the door without even looking out.

“You need to check who's here before you unlock the door,” Anderson said by way of a greeting.

“You need to remember I'm not used to having people here for supper. I knew it was you.”

“How'd you know?”

“Because everyone else has left for the day and you're the only other person here.”

Stubborn had just met up with Stubborn, Anderson decided. “Do I need to remind you
why
I'm here?”

She waved him to the table. “No. I pretty much got that earlier. No need to go over it again.”

“But there is a need for you to be more aware and a lot more careful. You might think you can handle any intruders but this is the big league. If they even suspect you might be on to them, you'll be at the top of their hit list. You saw a man back there, so that's one concern.”

“Duly noted, Ranger-man.” Then she made a face. “I have enough run-ins with mangy varmints on four legs, let alone two-legged critters. That man could have been after an exotic animal. Happens a lot.”

Anderson chuckled in spite of his concerns, but the confidence in her gaze scared him to the bone. How did she do that? Say something cute and funny and make him laugh in spite of the seriousness of this situation.
He didn't like to laugh on the job. He rarely had any reason to laugh on the job.

“You are human, aren't you?” she asked as she ladled up two steaming bowls of chili that smelled so good his stomach growled again. Only, he couldn't see any meat in this chili.

“Yes, I'm human and I'm hungry,” he said, grabbing a chunk of cornbread while he hoped the meat was swimming in the bottom of his bowl. Then he stood up. “Sorry. I thought you were ready to dig in.”

She giggled, then sat down. “I am. But don't wait on me, cowboy. Eat your dinner.”

But Anderson did wait. His mama had taught him manners, after all. And the isolation here told him to be cautious. Not only about the drug runners, but also about how he handled this. He was alone with a pretty woman. Hadn't seen that coming when he'd been assigned this case.

But his mother had also taught him to be a gentleman. And he'd rather spit dirt than disappoint his mama.

But he could enjoy the company of a woman, right?

Yeah, as long as he remained professional at all times. He said a quick silent blessing of the food with a little plea for guidance thrown in for good measure.

A few minutes later, Jennifer looked up at him while she chewed on her chili. “Is that tea okay?”

Anderson took a sip. “Yep. Tastes good.” Then he shrugged. “It's a tad weaker than I'm used to, though.”

“It's green tea. Has a lot of antioxidants.”

Anderson eyed the green-gold liquid. “You don't say.” He wasn't quite sure what an antioxidant was, but
he had a feeling it didn't involve red meat and chuck wagon chow.

And neither did this strange chili. “Uh, this is good but—”

“I'm a vegetarian,” she said, grinning. “So no, my chili doesn't have big chunks of meat. Is that a problem?”

Anderson could see the dare in her dark eyes. “No, ma'am. Not at all. Just happy to get a meal.”

She must have seen the confusion on his face. “You don't drink green tea, either, do you?”

He shook his head. “Mostly coffee and water, and a soda now and then. I do drink sweet dark tea. My mama makes the best—”

“This will make you healthier.”

“I'm already healthy.”

“I can see that.”

He stopped eating to give her a good long look.

And watched her blush becomingly.

Back to business, Anderson,
he told himself.

He tried to sound gruff. “So…let's go over the ground rules about this new alligator pond.”

“No rules there. It has to be built. The one I have the boys in now is not up to code. And I can't let school children in here for educational tours until I have a proper pen for those alligators. The new one will have a strong double chain-link fence around it and plenty of open spots for sunning, plus a deeper watering hole so they can relax and hide out if they want. I purposely put it back from the rest of the animals so we'd all be a little safer. Especially my turtles.”

“That all sounds great for ‘the boys' but we might need to warn your workers to be alert back there.”

“We can do that. They sometimes carry guns anyway—you know, snakes, coyotes and such. They mostly shoot in the air to scare any unwanted visitors away.”

“I don't want a shoot-out of any kind, at least not between your workers and the drug cartel. Just tell them you need to know about any trespassers.”

“Neither do I. I'll talk to them first thing in the morning. Or…whenever the construction crew shows back up. They move from job to job.”

“So, nobody else has seen anything out of the ordinary that you know of, other than your fence being damaged?” He reached into the file folder he'd brought and showed her a picture of Eddie Jimenez.

“I don't recognize that man and if any of my workers have seen him, they haven't informed me about it. Of course, they work during daylight hours. I'd think drug runners would do their business after dark. But that wouldn't explain how my fence got cut. Of course, it was around dusk when I did one last check for the day.”