The Texas Ranger's Family. Rebecca Winters
poor thing.”
“It’s all a little scary. Would you mind keeping Amy? I hate to do this to you, but he’s made it sound like it’s really important.”
“The girls are playing in the toy room and having a great time. Don’t worry about us. I’ll give them both dinner. You take your time.”
“Bless you, Jillian.”
She hung up and rushed back to the living room.
The Ranger eyed her directly. “I know you’re full of questions, so I’ll get to the point. Your husband’s death was a homicide. But that’s not the whole of it.”
She knit her hands together. “What do you mean?”
“The police stumbled onto some information that has resulted in the case being handled by the Texas Rangers. My captain has assigned it to me. That’s why the detective informed me of your phone call instead of following through himself.”
“I still don’t understand.” Something told her she wasn’t going to like what he told her.
His expression sobered. “Your husband wasn’t the man he claimed to be.”
Her adrenaline surged. “What do you mean exactly?”
“I wish there was a way to soften the blow for you. The man you knew as Rodney Parker Harris was actually born Harold Bartlett Park. He was born and raised in Denver, Colorado.”
She felt as if her lungs froze while the revelation sank in. “Surely you’re mistaken!”
“DNA doesn’t lie. His grandparents raised him after his parents were killed in a car crash when he was seven, but they couldn’t control him. In his teens he ran away and got into serious trouble. In time he used various aliases and committed crimes that put him in prison for a sixty-year sentence.”
“Sixty?” Her cry resounded in the room.
“That’s right. He’d only served two of them when he escaped eight years ago during a prisoner transfer to another facility. He eventually ended up here in Austin. There’s been an arrest warrant out on him for years.”
A gasp escaped her lips. She sprang to her feet. “You’re telling me that I was married to a felon?”
His eyes looked at her with compassion. “I’m afraid so. You’re welcome to see the DNA test results. They prove he’s the same man who’d been on his way to another prison when he made his escape with a fellow inmate. That killer is still at large.”
Fear raced through her as her thoughts leaped ahead. “Do you think he’s the one who broke in here?”
“In time I’ll find out who did this.”
She shivered as he pulled a paper from his back pocket and handed it to her. “This is what we call a rap sheet.”
Her fingers trembled as she opened it. Another cry resounded in the room as she saw the mug shot of the man she’d been married to. It was Rod, but a younger Rod with long black hair and a beard. The good-looking man she’d fallen in love with had short-cropped, dark blond hair and was clean-shaved.
Natalie looked down the list of his crimes that had earned him a sixty-year prison sentence. “Murder?” The knowledge that she’d been living with a hard-core criminal caused her to break out in a cold sweat. This was her precious Amy’s father?
Her hands went clammy.
Horrified, she dropped the paper and ran to the bathroom where she threw up. When there was nothing left, she rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth. To her shock she saw the Ranger waiting for her in the hall while she clung to the sink to recover.
“I wish there’d been an easier way to break this to you,” he murmured. “If you want to lie down, I understand.”
His kindness got to her. She let go of the sink. “I’d like to pretend none of this is real, but I know it is or you wouldn’t be here. No wonder the Texas Rangers are involved. Since I was in the process of divorcing him, I’m sure the police have already decided I killed him.”
She left the bathroom and walked to the living room on shaky legs.
“They have to look at a death from every angle.” His brows lifted. “Do you own a firearm?”
“No.”
“Did your husband?”
She took a steadying breath. “Not that I ever knew about.”
He eyed her speculatively through veiled eyes. “Why do you think the police would automatically assume you wanted him dead?”
“Because he’d been unfaithful to me. Now that I know the truth about him, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d been with different women throughout our marriage. This is unbelievable.” She couldn’t disguise the tremor in her voice. “When I had proof of his infidelity, I told him I was filing for divorce and asked him to leave the house.”
“How did he handle that?”
“He didn’t take me seriously until I warned him I’d call the police to put a restraining order on him. To my surprise he actually packed up and left. It almost seemed too easy, but it makes sense if he knew the FBI was hunting for him.”
The Ranger shifted his weight. “Mrs. Harris, the detective’s opinion of what happened was only speculation while he investigated your husband’s case. It was turned over to me too quickly for any conclusions to be drawn. I haven’t seen all the forensic evidence yet. Now that I’m in charge, I prefer to investigate the facts without bringing any bias from other sources. That’s why it was so important I spoke with you today. For the time being we’re going to keep any more information from being leaked to the press.”
“Thank you for that.”
“You’ve received a shock—you’re still pale. Sit down and I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.”
She pressed her lips together. “I imagine you could use some, too. Come into the kitchen. I’ll answer your questions while I make it. I need to stay busy.” Her suggestion coincided with the doorbell ringing.
“That’ll be the team. I’ll let them in.”
“They’ll need to check the garage, too.”
“I’ll tell them. I also want them to take your fingerprints. I hope that’s all right.”
He left her long enough to go to the door. Three people, two men and a woman, came in carrying equipment. They put on latex gloves and got to work. After meeting Natalie, one of the men took impressions of her fingers at the kitchen table while the other two checked the room for other prints.
When that was done they went about their business through the rest of the house, dusting surfaces and looking for evidence. The moment was surreal.
The Ranger stepped over several items on the floor to sit at the table. The high chair stood in the corner. She felt his gaze while she fixed coffee for them. “Where do you want to start?”
“Before we begin, you need to know I’ll be recording our conversation.”
Natalie nodded. “Do you take cream or sugar?”
“Both.”
So did she. She prepared two mugs and brought them to the table, sitting opposite him. After being sick to her stomach, the coffee tasted good, the sugar reviving her. He appeared to enjoy his, too, draining most of his mug before sitting back.
“Tell me about yourself first. I saw two women at the graveside service.”
“You were there?” she asked in disbelief.
“Watching from a distance. Were either of them your relatives?”
“No. I am an only child and my mother died several years ago. My parents divorced when I was twelve.