Ranger Belief (Texas Ranger Heroes #11)

Chapter 1

ONE

Someone was hunting in her woods.

Delaney “Laney” Torres bent next to the decaying corpse of a raccoon.

It’d been shot in center mass, a clean kill that spoke of experience.

Anger flared in her chest. This area of Piney Woods State Park was remote, but hunting of any kind was illegal.

It was also dangerous. A stray shot could hit an innocent person.

Hiking trails crisscrossed this entire area.

Scout whined softly beside her, the Labrador's ears pricked forward with concern.

Laney stroked her partner's golden coat, grateful for the company even on routine patrol duties like this.

“I know, girl. We'll figure out who did this.” She used her flashlight to search the immediate area for any clues about the hunter.

The grass near the road was tamped down, indicating a vehicle had been here recently, but the ground was too dry for tire impressions.

Her radio crackled. “Superintendent Torres, come in.”

Surprise rippled through her. It was well after nine, and the visitor's center should be closed, the rangers on shift already at home, including her second-in-command, Andy Dawson. She pressed the button on the receiver attached to her shoulder. “I’m here, Andy.”

“We got a call about fireworks in Campsite 8 from a concerned camper.”

Fireworks were a problem this time of year.

Summer had left a drought that brief September rains hadn't yet abated.

The ground was covered with dry pine needles.

Any spark could destroy the entire park and spread to the closest town, twenty miles away.

There was a statewide ban on fireworks, and they were expressly forbidden inside Piney Woods, but that didn't stop everyone.

Laney had confiscated more than her fair share this summer.

Twelve hours into her shift, exhaustion pulled at her limbs, but she appreciated the concerned camper who'd called in the report.

“Thanks for letting me know. I'll check it out.” She paused, then pressed the button on the receiver again. “Go home, Andy. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow.”

“Finishing up this report and heading out, ma'am.”

Andy's voice was weary, and Laney felt it down to her bones.

With their superintendent on medical leave for cancer treatment and chronic staff shortages, everyone at Piney Woods was pulling double duty.

As acting superintendent, she believed in leading by example and taking care of her staff, principles drilled into her during her Army days as a military police officer.

“Good. Make sure you forward the calls coming into the visitor center to the answering service.” If there was an emergency, the answering service would call Laney. Any other issues would be dealt with in the morning. “Night, Andy.”

“Good night, ma’am.”

Laney swept her flashlight over the dead raccoon one more time.

Judging from the bug activity, the kill was recent.

Within the last couple of hours. Fresh anger swelled, but she forced herself to take a breath.

Getting worked up wouldn't help the situation.

The hunter had shot the poor animal for sport, which made it worse, but she'd deal with it.

She made a mental note to address the issue with her staff in the morning.

Patrolling rangers needed to remind campers that hunting in the park was illegal.

“Come on, Scout.” Laney crossed to her SUV and opened the rear door.

Scout hopped into her compartment. The Labrador had been her search-and-rescue partner for three years, trained to find missing campers and hikers in the vast park terrain.

During her military days, Laney had worked with SAR dogs, so when the opportunity came to partner with Scout, she'd jumped at the chance.

“We'll check out this fireworks complaint, and then head home ourselves for some shut-eye.

Maybe I'll even let you have the good treats tonight.”

Scout's tail wagged, and Laney grinned. At least someone was having a good day.

She hopped in the driver's seat. The blast of cold air from the vent was refreshing. Darkness loomed ahead, trees and clouds swallowing the moonlight, leaving only her headlight beams to illuminate the narrow road as she headed for Campsite 8.

Her cell phone beeped with an incoming message that appeared on the screen embedded in her dash. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth when she saw it was from Jonah Foster, her best friend.

This was a terrible idea. Ryan is trying to set me up with his cousin from Dallas. I've been here 20 minutes and I'm already planning my escape route.

Laney chuckled. She'd intended to go to their mutual friend's birthday party, but when a park ranger called in sick, she'd taken the shift.

Jonah had nearly bailed out of the event too, but she'd encouraged him to go.

The man needed help in the socializing department.

His work as a Texas Ranger kept him incredibly busy.

If he didn't get out once in a while, he'd start growing roots to his desk.

She used voice activation to reply. “Don't be dramatic, Foster. It's a party. Mingle. And stop scowling—you're scaring people.”

Her phone beeped a second later.

There's a guy here wearing a fringe vest and boots that have never seen dirt. I think I'm having an allergic reaction to the whole scene. Send backup. Or a medical excuse.

She rolled her eyes even as a familiar warmth spread through her chest. Laney could picture Jonah's expression perfectly, the barely there glower that made other people think he was intimidating, but she found endearing.

Fifteen years of friendship had taught her to read all his micro-expressions.

And honestly? She secretly loved that he texted her from parties he didn't want to be at.

She was about to reply when the wooden sign marking the footpath to Campsite 8 appeared.

A late-model sedan was tucked among the trees just off the road.

Laney pulled over, parking behind it, the mirth from her exchange with Jonah fading as she slipped on a professional mask. Scout picked up her head.

“Go back to sleep, girl. I'll be back in a jiffy.”

Scout had developed a sensitivity to loud noises during her working years, so Laney left her behind when investigating fireworks complaints.

The dog could handle most situations, but why stress her unnecessarily?

She'd be better off in the car. The SUV was outfitted with a specialized idle system that kept the engine running and the air conditioning on, but locked the vehicle down so no one could steal it without a key.

A heat alarm would trigger if the A/C failed and the interior temperature rose even five degrees. She'd tested it herself last week.

Humidity hung heavy in the air as she flipped on her flashlight.

The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the footpath through the trees.

An owl hooted overhead. Moonlight coated the leaves in a silvery glow, and despite the late hour and the long shift, she felt a familiar spark of gratitude.

This was her favorite part of the job. Being out here under the stars, protecting this beautiful place.

Her mom used to say that God painted the night sky just as carefully as He painted the dawn.

Looking at the silver-edged leaves and hearing the rustle of nocturnal life in the undergrowth, Laney believed it.

Campsite 8 was secluded and only used during the hot summer months by camping enthusiasts seeking a quiet escape near the lake.

According to state park records, it'd been rented by a pair of college students for the weekend.

Laney smiled. She remembered camping along this very lake with her own parents, back when things were simpler.

Those were the happy memories. Before…well, before everything fell apart.

The trees parted, and Campsite 8 came into view.

Flames glimmered in the fire pit, popular rock music emanated from a speaker next to a set of camping chairs, and a large tent connected to a generator came into view.

The ground was free of the little bits of paper left behind after exploding fireworks.

Still, a whisper of apprehension crept down Laney's spine.

She paused, uncertain about what had set off her internal warning system.

Where were the campers?

“Park Ranger. Anyone here?” Her gaze swept over the chairs and fire pit, noting the package of graham crackers and chocolate. A half-cooked marshmallow on a prong rested in the dirt as if it'd been dropped. Drinks sat in cup holders in each of the chairs.

Maybe they'd gone for a late-night swim? The lake was beautiful this time of night, and young couples did spontaneous things. But even as the thought crossed her mind, unease tightened in her chest. The marshmallow in the dirt. The drinks sitting there. Something felt... off.

Strange. She drew closer, her light sweeping over the campsite.

The tent was big enough for two people and had a portable fan run by a generator.

Two trash bags hung from a nearby tree, and a drinks cooler secured by a bungee cord rested on the picnic table.

Other than the food discarded on the ground, the area was pristine.

Judging from the tent setup and the care taken in handling the food and trash, the campers were experienced.

Laney bent and turned off the speaker. “Hello! Park Ranger!”

Technically she was acting superintendent, but most civilians wouldn't know what that meant. Park ranger was universal.

Hair rose on the back of her neck as the sensation of being watched crept over her. She turned, her light cutting across the still waters of the lake and nearby bushes. Her heart thundered against her rib cage.

Nothing stirred. Still, the unease that plagued her from the moment she entered the campsite didn't abate. Her hand dropped to the holstered weapon at her hip, but she didn't draw it. “My name is Park Ranger Torres. Show yourself.”

Silence followed. Laney drew in a breath.

The humid air was thick, like soup, and scented with the heady smell of pine.

Uncertainty warred with training. She'd always been thorough—some called it perfectionism—and her military training reinforced the importance of assessing threats carefully.

But right now, she couldn't tell if her unease was justified or if she was being overly cautious.

Lord, help me know the difference between fear and wisdom, she prayed silently, the familiar words bringing a measure of calm to her racing heart.

But she could rely on the facts. The campers weren't responding. They could be injured or in trouble. Either way, she needed to find them.

She turned and stepped closer to the tent.

That's when she smelled it.

The coppery scent of blood.

Her heart skipped a beat even as her fingers undid the button securing her weapon in its holster.

She rounded the side of the tent, her flashlight beam illuminating the horrific sight in front of her.

A young man lay face down on the ground.

Dark blotches stained his T-shirt. Stabbed?

Shot? She couldn't tell. His eyes were open and unseeing. She’d seen enough death to know. He was gone.

Where was the other camper? Laney vaguely remembered seeing him with a young woman when they checked in at the main lodge this morning. She yanked her weapon from its holster and swept her flashlight beam over the woods behind the tent.

A twig snapped. She whirled toward the sound, but a dark shadow exploded from the undergrowth, tackling her before she could react.

She cried out as her gun was flung from her hand, landing in the dirt beyond her reach.

Pain exploded through her body as she collided with the hard ground, the breath driven from her lungs as her attacker's weight slammed down on top of her.

She struck him with the flashlight. He howled in rage.

A fist connected with her temple, sending stars dancing across her vision.

Before she could recover, strong hands encircled her throat.

They were slick—gloves, maybe—and the scent of aftershave cut through the pine and blood.

Something familiar about it tugged at her memory, but panic scattered the thought.

Her pulse hammered. The man straddled her, his weight trapping her arms against her sides. He was a dark blotch against the night. She tried to use her legs in a defensive move to wrap around his torso and throw him, but the angle was all wrong and his grip was too strong.

The pressure on her throat tightened. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision. Panic took hold. She wriggled in a desperate attempt to get one hand free. Her lungs burned. She was seconds from losing consciousness when she felt the hard plastic of her SUV's key fob digging into her hip.

Scout! The dog was trained in search and rescue, but she'd also been trained to defend her handler.

With blackness threatening to take over completely, her fingers fumbled desperately with the fob.

Just as her vision began to tunnel, she found the button that would automatically open the rear door of the SUV, releasing Scout from her crate.

The sound of barking erupted through the night, fierce and protective.

It was the last thing she heard before the darkness claimed her.