Her Mother's Killer (13 page)

“Shit, Thea, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No. No, I’m the one who is sorry. Sorry I was stupid enough to marry him and believe his lies.” She took a deep breath and angrily brushed away a tear trickling down her cheek. “But he isn’t here which would make it hard for him to be the one stalking me.”

He knew she was right, but it didn’t change the way he felt. He wanted it to be the ex, because that would make Jason Warren off limits to her, but also it would be solved. She looked so sad, so hurt that all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms, comfort her, kiss her, make love to her. But when he stepped forward, she moved away from him and headed for the stairs.

“I packed a lunch. Why don’t you take it out to the truck while I grab a pair of shoes?”

He watched her disappear upstairs wishing they didn’t need to make this trip. Grabbing the basket, he headed for the front door regretting his words but promising he would check it out. The ex had a reason to drive her back to Atlanta, and that was one thing Duncan would not allow.

* * * *

The drive was not as unbearable as Thea thought it would be. As they barreled down Highway 83 toward Dailey’s ranch just outside Ballinger, they dined on the sandwiches, chips and fruit. Amazingly, Duncan seemed to want to know about her life in Atlanta.

“So, what made you decide on Atlanta?”

“It was an up-and-coming city. At the time I settled there, it was one of the fastest growing cities in the country. I had some contacts down there. I worked for awhile at a few restaurants around the area, built a reputation. My idea.”

He stole the last chip and laughed when she gave him what she hoped was a mean look. “I’m amazed you came back here.”

I needed to do this. It’s home. Down in my soul, I am just a small-town girl.”

“No, what I meant was that you gave up a whole way of life in Atlanta.”

She thought about his comment for a moment. The people who worked for her, from the sous chef to the busboys, the hectic atmosphere of the kitchen, the egos and nerves that kept it humming…

“I guess. But I really didn’t give it up. I gave up the restaurant because Jason wanted it to go in an entirely different direction. He wanted to go upscale, I wanted to remain a family restaurant.”

He grunted as he turned his attention to the road and for the first time in weeks, she thought about her future. What would she do in Crocker? There wasn’t much she could do with her specialized degree but she hadn’t felt so comfortable in years. 
Maybe open a sandwich shop or a catering company?
 She really couldn’t think about it. More important things preyed on her mind.

* * * *

Duncan drove in silence trying to fight the conflicting forces spiraling inside of him. Why would the thought of Thea moving out of town send panic racing through him? Once they cleared up this mess, she’d be free to move. He was sure she wouldn’t head back to Atlanta but maybe Dallas, or back to New York City where she went to school?

Why would someone who had been rated one of the top young chefs in the country, settle in Crocker? No reason.
 Oh, there was Jed, but he’d moved to Austin. Besides, she would want a family of her own. Which meant marrying a man, making love to him, sharing her life with him.

Pain radiated from his hands and he looked down to realize he’d gripped the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were white.

Loosening his hold, he glanced at Thea. He studied her profile while she watched the landscape pass by outside the truck window. The flat west Texas plains were even more barren this time of year than others. November brought a few freezes to the area and killed off any other living vegetation that might have survived the summer. The tangled branches of the mesquite trees presented an almost eerie panorama. The gray skies and occasional drizzles, added to the dismal view.

“Is that the road up there?” she asked.

“Yeah. Sort of lives out in the boonies, doesn’t he?”

She grinned and it sent of shimmer of something, definitely not lust, crawling through his system.

“I like it though,” she said. “Sort of quiet. After all that noise in New York City and all the traffic of Atlanta, I like the quiet.”

He parked the truck behind Dailey’s old Suburban.

“Did you call him and tell him we were coming?”

“No,” he said but followed the direction of her gaze. Dailey was sitting in his rocking chair on his front porch. Odd since it couldn’t be more than fifty degrees and rainy. He was wearing the same brown cowboy hat he always did, his ruddy face serious, and his trusty rifle lying on his lap.

They both got out of the truck and he followed Thea up to the porch. She stopped when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“’Bout time you two made it here. Been waiting since Ms. Johnson moved back to Crocker. Guess you want to know who killed your parents.”

Chapter Eleven

“You know I’m investigating their murders?” Thea asked Dailey.

His rheumy blue gaze slid from their study of Duncan to her. He stood with considerable effort. Grabbing a cane, he handed his rifle to Duncan.

“You have a look about you. Almost the spitting image of your mama. Of course, the eyes… Well come on. I don’t have all day.”

They followed him into his house. He gingerly limped to the kitchen. The furnishings inside were no-nonsense and plain, heavy wood, faded fabric and twenty years out of date.

“I’ve just put on some coffee, should be done in a sec. Make yourselves comfortable.”

He lowered himself into one of the worn, wooden kitchenette chairs. Duncan sat beside him, Thea across the table from both of them.

“You said you knew my parents were murdered?”

“Thea, I think I can handle the questioning,” Duncan said in a warning tone. He turned his attention to Dailey. “Now, tell me what you know.”

“Knew from the beginning Johnson was dead.” He sighed.

Thea knew he regretted something.
 
Ignoring her mother? Not catching the killer?

“His blood on the front seat of his car and leaving his wife behind. He loved that woman more than life. He’d never have run off. And the letters.” He shook his head in resignation and then grabbed his cane.

“No, I’ll get it,” Thea offered and his eyes narrowed as he studied her.

“I’m not an invalid.”

She remembered how to handle cranky old men. Her grandfather had been one.

“I never said you were. I need to stretch my legs after the trip. Besides, I’m sure you like yours black and I like mine doctored. I’d just have to get up anyway.” She stood and without allowing for further argument, hastened to the coffeepot. She thought she heard a rusty chuckle but she wasn’t sure.

“Just like your mama. Cups are in the cupboard next to the fridge.”

She retrieved the coffee cups and her hands shook. Ping-pong balls bounced in her stomach and every nerve in her body was pulled tight. After all these years, she was close to finding the answers. Fear of the unknown had paralyzed her for years, but now apprehension weighed her down. She didn’t know if finding out the truth would be much better. She took a deep breath, allowing her nerves to calm.

As she poured the coffee, the two men continued their conversation.

“So, knowing you, you had a list of suspects when Margie was killed but you didn’t tell anyone,” Duncan said.

“Couldn’t tell anyone. You know how that town is. One peep out of me, and it would have been all over Crocker. I also had a problem with the townspeople. If I didn’t let the rumors go on like they did, there would have been mass hysteria.”

“And you could’ve been voted out of office,” Duncan said, his voice flat. The air crackled with tension. Hoping to ease it, Thea brought the two men their coffees, then grabbed hers and returned to her seat.

“Margie had a lot of admirers.” He shrugged. “Not much you could do about that.”

Her blood boiled with anger. She couldn’t help the sharp tone in her voice. “Are you saying my mother deserved what she got?”

“I never said that, Miss Johnson.”

“So, just what are you saying?” she asked, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“What I’m saying is your mother had an easy-going nature. A bit motherly to most men except your daddy. Hell, she even brought me Christmas cookies. Someone might have taken the attention the wrong way.” Her muscles relaxed and she uncrossed her arms. His attention shifted to Duncan again.

“I don’t envy you your life. Tangling with wildcats can leave a few scratches.”

Duncan glanced quickly at her and then back to Dailey. “Let it go. Now, let’s get back to your list of suspects. A lot of the file was missing. What I want to know is where it is.”

Dailey’s lips curved slightly. “They hired them a good sheriff. All the rest of the report is in a box in the living room. I’ve been waiting for you since the murders started up again a few months ago.”

“Murders?” Thea and Duncan asked at the same time.

“Yes, murders.” Dailey released a disgusted sigh. “With all those newfangled gadgets you have in your office, you mean you haven’t been getting reports about the women around here?”

A light of recognition entered Duncan’s eyes. “The faxes. There’s been two or three murders of women in the past few weeks.”

“More like the past few months. All dark-haired, green-eyed, and average in height.”

A chill slithered into her stomach cooling the warmth the coffee had produced.

“Women…” She cleared her throat. “Women who look like me?”

“Haven’t seen any pictures of them, but the description is pretty close to your features.”

“What about around the time of Margie’s murder?” Duncan asked, his voice deep and concerned. She glanced at him but he wasn’t looking in her direction. He was fully concentrating on Sheriff Dailey.

“Well, now there is the question. There were a few I could find, but I’m sure with all of your resources, you could probably find out more than I could then.”

“Women who looked like Margie and Thea? How many do you think?”

“Over the years, I’ve counted about ten. Probably more. They were all in surrounding counties, mostly living on the streets.”

“Ages?”

“Various ages. Not one of them over forty-five. One was young as sixteen.”

Sixteen.
 Thea’s stomach threatened to rebel.

“You think this person is killing women who look like me. Why?”

“I’ll leave that up to the hoity-toity FBI to figure out. Unless you can make the connection, they won’t help you. Even with all of the evidence I collected over the years, I know they’d ignore it and say small-town law don’t know what they’re doing.”

She studied his craggy face, littered with lines and stray hairs he’d missed the last time he shaved. “You tried to get them to investigate my mother’s murder.”

He gave an almost imperceptible nod. “And your father’s,” he murmured.

Guilt assaulted her, as she remembered all the years she’d blamed him for the fact her parents’ murderer roamed free.

“So, you want to tell me who you think did it?” Duncan asked.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you take the box home with you today. You go over it and then we’ll talk.”

Duncan nodded and Dailey slowly got to his feet. They followed him into a dark room. One tableside light was on, casting shadows in the dismal room. The dark brown couch sagged a little in the middle, and blended into the paneling behind it. Dust littered the surfaces, and not one picture graced the walls. A massive file box sat on a battered coffee table.

Duncan picked up the box and headed for the door. Dailey touched her arm as she turned to follow him.

“Thea, you need to be very careful and listen to that Perry boy. He knows what he’s doing and he’ll make sure you’re safe. This man…if I’m right…has gotten away with more than one murder.” She nodded and he smiled. “Now, I expect an invite.”

“An invite to what?”

“Thea, come on!” Duncan yelled from outside.

She rolled her eyes and Dailey laughed.

“He has a tendency to think he’s in charge. Thank you so much for everything.”

His expression turned serious. “You just stay safe. I don’t want to attend another Johnson funeral.”

* * * *

The box safely nestled between them, Duncan and Thea headed back to Crocker. The rain-slicked roads made the trip longer as Duncan had to drive a tad slower around some of the curves.

Duncan knew it was killing her not to look and see what was in the files but she’d been silent as a tomb since they left Dailey’s ranch fifteen minutes earlier. She just stared out the window and chewed on her thumbnail.

“What are you thinking about?”

She turned and looked at him, her eyes taking a moment to come back to the present. With a sigh, she said, “Oh, just feeling guilty.”