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CHAPTER SEVEN

G avin surveyed the destruction inside the boathouse. Storage cabinets, doors hanging precariously on damaged hinges, leaked fishing lures. Broken fishing rods were tossed in a heap. Life jackets had been ripped apart with a knife, the insides left trailing across the concrete floor. Spray paint decorated everything, except for the boat floating in the water nearby.

Ryker arched his brows. “Someone was angry.”

“With me,” Claire said from her position on the opposite side of the cabinets. She had her arms wrapped around her midsection, but her expression was hard. She jutted her chin toward the wall in front of her. “Check out the message the intruder left.”

Gavin stepped around a few destroyed items. The toe of his boot sent a fishing bobbin skittering across the concrete. He inhaled sharply as the words spray-painted across the wall came into view.

If you want to live, Sheriff, then quit. Leave town.

Ryker huffed out a breath. “Direct and to the point.”

“Whoever did this took his time.” Gavin bent to examine the twisted lock on the storage unit. The door had been pried open with force, probably with a crowbar. “And he’s strong. How did he do this much destruction without being noticed by anyone? There were deputies paroling the property the entire night.”

Claire sighed. “We own 70 acres, Gavin. It’s impossible for them to be everywhere at once. I also think there were several hours between two and four when no one was paroling. There was a car crash on Hillside Road. Some teenagers got the bright idea to race on the empty streets. No one was killed, thank God, but the scene required several deputies.”

Gavin nodded. Of course. Fulton County didn’t have a large department, and with the icy roads, they were stretched thin to begin with.

Claire sounded weary. The troubles weighing on her shoulders were increasing by the minute. And Gavin had added to them. He mentally kicked himself again for that indiscretion in the kitchen. He shouldn’t have brushed his thumb against her knuckle. What on earth had he been thinking?

He hadn’t been. That was the problem. When Claire placed her hand in his…all reasonable thought had escaped him. Which sounded simply ridiculous. He wasn’t some teenager with his first crush, but a grown man in his thirties with life experience. Claire wasn’t the first woman he’d found attractive. Nor was she the first beautiful woman he’d ever worked with. But everything about her broke down the carefully constructed walls around his heart.

A strand of golden hair fluttered across Claire’s forehead. Gavin resisted the urge to tuck it behind her ear. She made him want things. Love. A family. But he wasn’t good at either. Willow’s words replayed in his head like a broken record.

You always put your job first. You’d be a terrible husband and an even worse father.

Her accusations had cut to the bone, mostly because they were true. He put his career first. Being a Texas Ranger was a part of him. Since his failed engagement, Gavin hadn’t considered pursuing anything romantic.

Until he met Claire.

Being around her was easy and natural. Like connecting with an old friend he’d known for decades. She was funny and smart. Dedicated to her job, her son, and her family. There was a lot to admire about her, but these wayward feelings needed to stop. Gavin wouldn’t add to Claire’s troubles. She obviously didn’t want to pursue this constant humming attraction between them. It was for the better. Gavin had a job to do, a killer to catch. And that’s where his attention—all of his attention—would go.

He assessed the fishing boat, tied to a pole by a rope. His boots tapped against the concrete as he circled the vessel. Gavin frowned. “The intruder breaks in, pries open the storage cabinets, and trashes the place. He even writes a message in spray paint. But doesn’t touch the boat. Why?”

Claire shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t have enough time. A patrol unit could’ve scared him off.”

That was a possibility. Truth was, this entire case wasn’t making a lot of sense. Faye’s murder, the shooting at the bakery, and the rigged gun in Claire’s house were well-planned. This…this looked like a random act of uncontrolled rage.

Ryker was still staring at the message scrawled on the wall. He consulted something on his phone, brows drawn down in concentration.

“What is it?” Gavin asked.

Ryker pointed to a curly swirl located under the word town. “See that? The upside-down question mark. It looks like a symbol used by the Chosen. It’s part of the logo on their website.”

He tilted the phone so Gavin could see the screen. Sure enough, his friend was right. The symbols appeared almost identical. A memory needled the back of his mind. “I was doing some research on the Chosen last night. They tattoo this symbol somewhere on their body, usually in a visible place, so members can identify each other.

“Xavier has one.” She pointed to her neck right above her jacket collar. “It’s here. You can’t see it all the time, but I noticed it once while questioning him about cooking methamphetamine on his property last summer.”

“I take it you didn’t have enough evidence to arrest him?”

“Unfortunately not. His southern neighbor complained of a funny smell and there were rumors around town. I investigated, but Xavier refused to answer my questions or allow me onto the property. A judge wouldn’t give me a search warrant without stronger evidence. The case petered out.”

“That mirrors some of law enforcement’s concern with the Chosen. Xavier could be behind this. He was quick to tell us he had nothing to do with Faye’s murder, but I don’t trust him further than I can throw him.”

Claire’s brow crinkled. “Isn’t it strange for Xavier to trash my boathouse and then leave a calling card? I don’t trust him any more than you do, Gavin, and I believe there’s something criminal going on with the Chosen, but they haven’t avoided law enforcement scrutiny by being brazen.”

She had a point. Gavin tilted his head. “We need to be careful. So far, there’s no evidence linking these crimes together. We could be dealing with two separate things. You made Xavier mad with your questions yesterday.” He waved a hand at the destruction. “This could be his answer.”

“Again, that would only draw attention to him. It’d be easier for me to believe someone purposefully put that symbol on the wall, hoping we would focus on Xavier. The same way Faye’s killer tried to make the murder look like a robbery by stealing the bakery’s money.”

Ryker rocked back on his heels. “What we need is more evidence. I’m going to call the lab and get them to rush through what we have. I’ll also get forensics down here. If we’re fortunate, the intruder left a fingerprint or two.”

Gavin wasn’t holding his breath, but it was worth a shot. “We also have the postcard Stephanie supposedly sent her mother. A handwriting analysis could determine if it’s legitimate. But we need something Stephanie wrote for comparison.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Claire said. “Mary Ellen may have something since Stephanie worked for them. I’ll call her and ask.”

Ryker tucked his phone back inside his jacket pocket. “It might be prudent to pay Xavier another visit. I’d like to know where he was last night. I can do that after the forensic techs finish here.”

Gavin nodded and then turned to Claire. “I think we’re still on the right track. Investigating Stephanie’s disappearance will lead us to Faye’s murderer. With that in mind, I want to visit Sheriff King. I’ve read through Stephanie’s file a few times and have some questions for him.”

She wrinkled her nose. “He may not tell you the truth. Especially if he messed up. Sheriff King is protective of his reputation. He won’t be happy that we’re making it look like he messed up another investigation.”

Gavin had little patience with individuals who took the oath of a law enforcement officer and then broke it. Sheriff King’s reputation wasn’t his concern. “I don’t care whether he’s happy or not. He did screw up Stephanie’s case. And the sooner we figure out what happened to her, the better.”

Randy King lived on several acres and maintained a working ranch. Cattle dotted the fields on either side of the long driveway leading to a house with a wraparound porch and white clapboard shutters. Giant pecan trees shaded the barn. Claire zipped up her jacket after exiting her vehicle. The sun was shining, but it did little to take the edge off the cold.

She joined Gavin on the walkway. “Don’t be surprised if Sheriff King knows everything about the case. He keeps his fingers on the town’s pulse.”

The front door to the house swung open and Sheriff King stepped on to the stoop. Deep wrinkles crisscrossed his forehead and trailed a path down his cheeks. He was dressed for the weather in a flannel jacket. The belt buckle holding up his pants was the size of a salad plate, and there was a holstered weapon at his hip. His hands trembled as he reached up to settle a cowboy hat on his head, a physical symptom of the Parkinson’s diagnosis that’d forced his retirement.

“Morning, Sheriff King.” Claire lifted her hand in a wave.

Randy’s gaze narrowed. He didn’t care for Claire but was too polite to be rude to her face. That didn’t prevent him from talking behind her back though. She heard the rumors. And ignored them. There was no sense in making Randy an enemy. She was smart enough to know there were times she might need him. Like now.

Randy met them on the walkway. “Horrible thing about Faye’s murder. I’m so sorry, Claire. I know you two were friends. And these attacks on you…” He clicked his tongue. “Awful. I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

“Thank you.” She introduced Gavin, and the two men shook hands. Claire waited until the pleasantries were over before getting to the point of their visit. “Sheriff King, we believe Faye’s murder is connected to a cold case. Stephanie Madden’s disappearance.”

“I heard a rumor in town about that.” Sheriff King tilted his head to indicate they should follow him to the barn. “I didn’t want to stick my nose where it don’t belong—I’m retired after all—but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, Claire.”

“Why is that?” Gavin asked.

Sheriff King picked up a grooming brush before heading toward a beautiful quarter horse waiting nearby. “Because Stephanie ran off. I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be sure?”

He raised his bushy eyebrows. His gaze flickered to Claire before settling back on Gavin. “Despite what you may have heard about me, Ranger Sterling, I investigated cases correctly. Faye called my office and said Stephanie hadn’t shown up for work at the bakery as scheduled. It’s not uncommon for adults to skip work from time to time. Still, I took Faye’s concerns seriously and sent two deputies to Stephanie’s rental home. Her car wasn’t in the driveway. The house was locked up tight and there was no sign of any trouble, so they left.”

So far, everything sounded correct. Claire would’ve asked the neighbors if they’d seen Stephanie, and checked with the young woman’s family and friends, but that was above and beyond the norm. She didn’t believe Randy was a bad man, or malicious, just misguided.

“We aren’t looking to blame anyone, Sheriff King.” Claire kept her tone neutral. She didn’t want to make him angry. There was some information only he could provide. “We simply want to catch Faye’s murderer. What happened after you conducted the initial welfare check on Stephanie?”

“We waited forty-eight hours and then Faye officially filed a missing person’s report. I obtained a search warrant for Stephanie’s rental home. A suitcase was missing from the closet. Clothes and other personal items, like her purse and phone, were gone. There was no indication of forced entry. No blood or sign of a struggle.” He shrugged. “Based on our search, we decided Stephanie had left town of her own freewill. That conclusion was supported when her mother received a postcard from her several weeks later.”

Gavin leaned against the fence. “Other than her mother, did anyone else hear from Stephanie after her disappearance?”

“Not to my knowledge. But I also didn’t ask.” Randy used long strokes to brush the horse. “Like I said, it appeared Stephanie left town. I wasn’t going to use valuable resources looking for a woman who didn’t want to be found.”

“According to the deputy who took the missing person’s report, Stephanie had paid her monthly rent in full just days before she disappeared.” Gavin removed a notepad from the pocket of his shirt. He flipped it open to a page. “She’d purchased a new patio set that was delivered after she left. There was fresh food in her fridge. New tennis shoes, still in a box, were next to the front door. She left her cell phone charger, expensive jewelry, and a favorite coat in the house. She was also owed a paycheck from the bakery. A sizable one.”

Sheriff King’s gaze narrowed. A red stain crept along the back of his neck and onto his cheeks. “Are you accusing me of something, son?”

“No. I’m asking if you took any of this information into consideration when determining Stephanie left town.” Gavin straightened from the fence. He met Sheriff King’s hard gaze without flinching. “I’ve searched for Stephanie. She hasn’t renewed her driver’s license, nor has her car registration been updated. Faye hired a private investigator to find her. Now she’s dead. The private investigator is missing and someone is shooting at Claire. I don’t have time for games, sir. I need answers, not spin.”

Sheriff King swallowed hard. “What makes you think the person trying to kill Claire has anything to do with Faye’s murder?”

“Because I won’t stop until I catch Faye’s killer.” Claire tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I’ll chase down every lead. I know Faye was looking for Stephanie. That means I’m going to be looking for Stephanie.”

“Someone doesn’t want you to find her…” Sheriff King sagged against a nearby bench. He was quiet for a long moment. Claire didn’t think it was possible, but the man seemed to age in front of them. He licked his lips. “I genuinely believed she left town. Faye was upset, yes, but Stephanie had a host of problems she was dealing with. She’d talked about starting over somewhere new with several people.”

Claire stiffened. “What problems was Stephanie dealing with?”

Randy snorted. “You know who her stepdaddy is, right? I mean, we can start right there. Xavier doesn’t cause trouble in the normal sense, but I don’t trust him. I’ve long believed he’s involved in something criminal. Could never prove it though.”

She’d heard the same rumors. Maybe Stephanie threatened to turn him into the police? Claire passed a glance at Gavin before focusing back on the former sheriff. “What was Xavier’s relationship with Stephanie like?”

“They didn’t get along but kept things cordial for her mother’s sake. I don’t know any more than that. But I would be careful. Xavier is cold and I believe he’s capable of murder, but he also knows the Chosen is watched by law enforcement. I don’t think he’d purposefully do anything to draw attention to himself. Murdering Faye, shooting at you, Claire, and threatening your family…it’s messy.”

Claire considered Sheriff King’s warning. She also wondered about Xavier’s involvement. Was it possible the real killer had left the mark in the boathouse, hoping it would trick them into focusing on Stephanie’s stepfather? It was something to consider. Leaving such a blatant calling card didn’t fit with the Chosen’s secretive nature. “Can you think of anyone else who might’ve wanted to harm Stephanie?”

Sheriff King pondered the question. “She had an on-again, off-again boyfriend. From what I understand, their relationship was tumultuous. His name is Alex Sheffield. Works down at the animal clinic and shelter.”

Shock reverberated through Claire. She knew Alex well. So had Faye. She’d catered fundraising events for the shelter. The image of Faye sitting in her SUV with a flat tire flashed in Claire’s mind. The killer had driven up, pulled over to the side of the road.

Faye had gotten out. She’d trusted the person.

Could it have been Alex?