Trail of Lies (9 page)

“That's because I was here.”

Melora glided forward. “Exactly. Being around someone is important.”

“Yeah, I know and I haven't done a good enough job in that department with my son. My job demands most of my time, and I have an ex-wife who has tried everything to keep me and Clay apart. Soon he stopped wanting to do much with me. I think he thought it was easier than making
his mother upset. I didn't want him to feel he was the rope in a tug-of-war contest.”

“It's tough when parents put a child in the middle. Divorce is hard enough on a child without being the prize in some kind of fight between the parents.”

“I know. I couldn't do that to Clay.”

“So you backed off?”

“Not totally. But as he was growing up, every time I couldn't make it, Cheryl made it into a big deal with Clay to the point he stopped wanting to do things with me. About the only time I felt needed in my son's life was when he got into trouble with the local police. He was fourteen and joyriding in a car an older boy had stolen. Clay said he didn't know it was stolen. He thought it was Brad's. The officer took him, along with the other three boys, to the station. He called Clay's mother then me since he knew me. When I came to the station, I'd never seen my son so scared. When he was given community service, he got upset with me for not using my connections to make everything go away. Our relationship hadn't been very good before that. Afterward it nosedived. Only recently have we begun doing things again.”

“But you were there for Clay when he was in trouble. That has to count for something.”

His role model hadn't been the best. His dad had wanted him to do things his way to the point that the last years he was alive they'd hardly talked. No matter what Daniel did, he seemed to repeat the same mistakes his own dad had made with him. “So what do you recommend I do to make things better between Clay and me?”

“Spend time together—quality over quantity.”

“I was supposed to go to a Spurs game tonight, but I had to cancel. I gave him my ticket to take a friend.”

“But that isn't the same thing as spending time with him. I'm sorry you had to cancel because of me.”

The genuine concern in her voice prompted him to close the space between them. “It isn't your fault. This is my job. Things come up that have to be dealt with right away. The problems between Clay and me go much deeper than not spending time with him because of my job.” How did he tell her every time he was with his son he found himself going into protective mode—dictating what he thought was best for Clay?

“But still, your son is important to you.” She looked away for a moment then reconnected eye contact. “Even with Kaitlyn at her age, I've found listening to her concerns is one of the best ways to connect with her. Clay is going to graduate from high school soon. What does he want to do after that?”

“I hope he goes to college and—”

She placed her warm fingers over his mouth. “What does Clay want, not you?”

For several heartbeats he could only think about her fingers on his mouth, her beautiful eyes peering at him, her fragrance driving all other scents away. He captured her hand touching him and held it for a few seconds against his lips before cupping it between his two palms. “He loves to play basketball. A couple of years back all he wanted to do was become a pro basketball player.” Reluctantly, he released her.

“What now?”

“He hasn't said too much to me about what he wants to do in the future.”

“Why not?”

Daniel thought back to the conversation when Clay had informed him he was going to play professionally and his reaction. He'd told him all the reasons that wasn't a good
game plan for his future. “Probably because I didn't encourage him.”

“How old is he? Sixteen, seventeen?”

“Seventeen.”

“Sometimes we have to let our children go and try things on their own.”

“But what if we don't think it's a good idea?”

“Be there to listen and support, but unless it's something like falling into a life of crime or hurting himself or others, sometimes a kid has to figure things out for himself.”

Daniel kneaded the tight cords of his neck. “I'm doing exactly what my father did. I wanted to go into law enforcement. He wanted me to go into his business. We parted ways over that. Our relationship got rockier because he wouldn't listen to me.”

“Then I think you know what you need to do.”

She made it sound so simple. He had his doubts, but he and Clay needed to have a heart-to-heart over his future plans. “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I am. I forgot the book I was reading. It helps me to fall asleep.”

“Must not be a very good story.” Staring into the liquid green of her eyes made him want to melt against her and ravish her mouth. He backed away. These feelings were just because she'd listened to him. Nothing more, and he needed to remember that.

Chuckling, she started across the foyer. “It serves its purpose. I left it in the kitchen. Good night.”

“See you in the morning. I'll check the house one last time and then I'm going to bed myself.” He followed her into the kitchen and went to the back door to make sure it was secured.

At the bay window in the breakfast nook, he peeked outside. As Melora left the room, he wondered if someone
was out there watching the house, waiting to make his move. They needed to get a break on this case soon, he thought, turning away and continuing his rounds.

 

Melora should be used to the smells in a hospital since she volunteered at least once a week at Mercy, but every time she came she was reminded of her parents' deaths. A car out of control had skidded over the sidewalk and crashed into an outdoor café where her mother and father were having lunch. Her dad had died on the way to the hospital, her mom a little later in the emergency room.

When she'd first started volunteering in the gift shop at Mercy, she'd forced herself to stay each day, fighting nausea at the aromas that vividly brought her back to that time in her life. Now she was used to it—mostly. Her stomach still clenched momentarily when she stepped through the hospital entrance.

“Okay?” Daniel took her elbow and guided her toward the elevator. “This shouldn't take too long.”

“Hospitals remind me of my parents' deaths. I'll be fine in no time.”

“And you volunteer here? How do you do it?” He allowed her to step on to the elevator first.

“I'm not going to let something like that stop me from helping people. Besides, I don't like my past dictating what I do now. I've had enough of that.”

“Sometimes easier said than done.”

The ding signaled that they had arrived at their floor, and the doors swished open. The antiseptic smell was stronger up here than in the lobby. Her stomach gurgled. “You sound like a man dealing with his own past.”

He marched toward a room halfway down the hall. “I think everyone has to deal with the past at some time. As
you know, mine is my son.” Daniel nodded to Evan on duty inside the patient's room. “How is he today?”

The Ranger angled away from the TV monitor which displayed the hospital corridor outside the door. “He's moved some this morning. The doctor was here earlier and is hopeful that he'll wake up soon.”

“That's good news we can use. As I told you this morning, I brought Melora to see if she can ID him.”

Melora ignored the two Rangers talking and focused on the man in the bed. His pasty features weren't the tan ones she'd remembered, but he'd been in a coma for months. The strong jawline, the brown hair, longer than she recalled but the same medium shade, the scar under his left eye all attested to the man who visited Axle on several occasions two years ago. A man who had scared her with the cold look in his eyes. Was that why she'd eavesdropped on his conversation with Axle?

“That's the man I saw at our house with Axle. The first time he came they argued. That's the only time I heard Axle call him Quin when they came to an agreement and my husband patted him on the back as if he were his best friend.”

“No other name?” Daniel joined her at the side of the bed.

She shook her head. “And I couldn't tell you for sure that Quin was his first or last name, but I got the impression it was his first name.”

“What did he sound like?”

“He had an Irish accent.”

“That confirms what we heard from a tip we received.” Daniel looked at her. “What about the second time this man came to the house?”

“When Quin came again to see Axle, they met at the stable.”

“Did they go anywhere special?”

She thought back to that last time she saw the man in the coma, trying to remember where they had gone. “Besides the stable, they circled around the back of the property. That's all I saw.”

“Okay. We have a bit more that might help in narrowing down who this man is. Let's grab something to eat at the Bustles and Spurs Café.” Daniel nodded to the other Ranger. “Thanks, Evan. If anything changes with him,” he gestured toward Quin, “let me know. I'll call headquarters about what we found out today.”

Out in the hallway, people went about their daily tasks while Melora felt her life was coming apart, one thread at a time. Was the fact she'd known one of the man's names enough to help end this nightmare? Probably not, but finding what the people wanted of Axle's might.

“When we get home, I want to start looking in Axle's office right away.”

“Do you want to eat at the Bustles and Spurs or somewhere else?”

She wanted to limit the places she went but didn't want to spend too much time at the Bustles and Spurs, not after what she was discovering about the restaurant chain her husband owned. “The restaurant here at the hospital has great food. I've often gotten lunch there when I volunteer.”

Back by the elevator, Daniel pressed the button for the ground floor. Five minutes later they entered the café attached to the hospital. After finding a table in the corner, Melora spotted Jorge sitting nearby with two other doctors, finishing up their meal.

Daniel scanned the restaurant. “It looks like a lot of the staff comes here.”

“Yeah, the service is fast and the selection of food is a
little different from the cafeteria. It gives an alternative for people who are visiting the hospital but especially for the staff.”

After ordering, Melora tried to relax back in her chair, but tension coated every nerve with a hard outer shell. “Will what I told you help in any way?” Since she'd made the decision to aid the Texas Rangers, she desperately needed to know that had been the right move to make.

Daniel shrugged. “It's another piece of the puzzle. We need to ID the man and now we not only know he's Irish but one of his names is Quin.”

“What if that is an alias?”

“It still might help us.” He leaned forward as though trying to get as close to her as possible with a table for four between them. “What I think would really help the case and you is finding what Axle had that everyone is interested in getting their hands on, so I agree that's what we need to focus on now.”

Jorge Cantana threaded his way through the crowded tables and stopped near Melora. “Are you and Kaitlyn all right? I didn't hear anything from you, so I guessed you were. I didn't want to disturb you if you were resting.”

“I'm sorry, I should have called you. Both Kaitlyn and I are sore, but that is to be expected after being in a car wreck.” She drilled her gaze into Jorge. “Why did you tell Uncle Tyler about the accident?”

His eyebrows beetled together. “I didn't. You asked me not to.”

“You didn't?” Then who did? Probably someone else at the hospital. Her uncle was on the board so a lot of people knew him there. She would call her uncle and find out when he came back from his business trip.

“No. I thought you might like to know the cab driver is awake and out of danger.” Jorge smiled at Melora then
turned his attention to Daniel. “Is something wrong? Why are the Texas Rangers interested in a car wreck?”

“We aren't usually.”

Jorge opened his mouth to say something else, looked at Daniel and then peered at Melora. “If you are in trouble, I'll help any way I can.”

“Melora and I are friends. I've known her for years. Since her husband's body was finally uncovered, we've been getting reacquainted.” Daniel placed his hand over hers on the table.

To cover her surprise at Daniel's words, Melora gave Jorge a grin, but the tension at the table heightened with each second he remained. She'd noticed Daniel hadn't revealed much to Jorge, and she could understand his caution. The less people knew the better, even a friend of the family. But to give the impression they were dating had come as a shock. “I'm fine. I hope we can get the girls together soon.”

“Just call to set up a play date.”

“With the holidays, things are hectic.”

“I know what you mean. We're going out tonight to shop for Cara. See you, Melora. Remember Beth and I are only a phone call away.” Jorge nodded toward Daniel before leaving.

“Is he a good friend?”

“He's the family doctor, and I'm friends with his wife. Our daughters play together. They don't live too far from me. After Axle disappeared, Beth and Jorge were there for me.”

“I got the distinct impression he didn't like not knowing what's going on.”

Melora chuckled. “That's Jorge. Beth accuses him of sticking his nose in every place he can. I think that's what makes him such a good doctor, though. He's very
inquisitive and curious. His patients rave about how he'll keep digging until he finds out the answer to a problem.”

“I don't have to tell you to keep quiet about what I'm really doing. People can wonder, but they don't have to know for sure. Let them think there's something between us. Keep them guessing.”