Three
Nina wasn’t sure why Jackson had dragged her back into the woods, but did her best to remain calm, listening as he left a terse message for their boss about the need to take over the case of her uncle’s death and the subsequent shooting by two gunmen.
The sirens grew louder, indicating the police were close.
She was glad to know the local law enforcement officers would be there soon, but she was still worried about whether the gunman had done something to her car.
Jackson quickly ended his one-sided call, then stood to step out of the woods as two sheriff’s deputy vehicles bounced up the rutted driveway. She followed him into the clearing, anxious for this nightmare to be over. Nina shivered, wishing she could go back home.
Or at least to her motel room. She’d arranged for a place to stay in Tyler, thinking she and her Uncle Mark would spend the weekend together.
Instead, she’d have to help plan his funeral.
“Are you Ranger Woodlow?” one of the deputies asked. His name tag read Deputy Green.
“Yes, thanks for coming out so quickly.” Jackson turned to her. “This is Nina Dobson. She’s the technical analyst for the Rangers. This is her uncle’s cabin.”
Nina stepped forward. “I recently found my Uncle Mark Lange through a DNA match. I was adopted as a baby, after my mother was murdered. Her case was never solved.” She gestured to the cabin.
“My uncle indicated he may be responsible for what happened to my mother twenty-eight years ago, and would only talk to me in person, not over the phone.” As she said the words, a sudden thought hit.
Where was her uncle’s phone? Likely somewhere in the cabin.
She brought herself back on task. “I—uh, when I showed up for our meeting, I found my uncle dead from what looked like a staged suicide.”
“Staged?” the deputy scoffed. “Are you a crime scene expert?”
She hoped the darkness hid her flush. “No, but shortly after I arrived a gunman showed up. I managed to escape out the back. He shot at me as I disappeared into the woods.”
The second deputy, a big, bald man wearing a name tag that read Sewell, appeared as skeptical of her story as Green was. “Why would some guy take shots at you?”
“I have no idea. But I’m sure it has something to do with my uncle’s murder.” She stressed the last word.
“I believe Nina is right about the suicide being staged,” Jackson drawled.
It irked her that both deputies turned to face him, as if his badge gave him more clout.
Which she supposed it did. “I happened to be in Dallas and was able to drive over here to meet Nina. We were in my SUV driving back toward this cabin when a truck approached and opened fire. We ended up abandoning the SUV and heading into the woods. We hid in the trees and watched as the truck returned and peppered more slugs into the SUV with what can only be described as a serious intent to finish us off.”
Deputy Green and Deputy Sewell glanced at each other. “That was your damaged vehicle we passed along the side of the road?” Sewell asked.
“Yep.” Jackson’s expression was grim. “After that, we made our way through the woods here, back to the cabin for Nina’s car.
Soon after I called 911 to report the suicide/murder, we heard the truck returning and hid in the woods again.
The two gunmen got out of the truck and looked around the area for us.
Both wore jeans—one black, one blue—and long-sleeved Western-style shirts and baseball caps pulled low on their forehead.
They also carried semiautomatic weapons.
They left when they heard your sirens. I tried to get a license number, but the rear plate was covered in mud.
I can say it was a large black or dark gray Ram truck. ”
Deputy Green scratched his chin. “That’s some story.”
“It’s the truth!” Nina’s temper flashed. “Why would we make something like this up?”
“We’re not saying that,” Deputy Sewell drawled. “But other than the bullet-riddled SUV I don’t know that you have any corroborating evidence.”
“We are two very credible witnesses,” Jackson countered. “And let’s not forget the dead man inside.”
Green grimaced and nodded at Sewell. “He’s got a point. Let’s check it out. Crime scene techs should be here soon.”
Nina stayed where she was as the two deputies walked into the cabin. Then she grabbed Jackson’s arm. “I want to get out of here. These guys are making me mad.”
He covered her hand with his, the warmth of his fingers giving her a strange jolt. “Don’t worry. They’ll do their part. Besides, it’s only a matter of time before the Rangers take over the investigation.”
“I hope you’re right.” She wasn’t mollified. “How long before we can leave?”
Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know. We can’t use your car until it’s examined by a mechanic. We’ll need a ride out of here.”
Nina thought Jackson was being overly cautious about her car. As far as she could tell, there hadn’t been time for the gunmen to do anything to her vehicle. Not that she drove it very often, preferring to use public transport to get around Austin.
“Why don’t we at least try to start it?” She frowned. “We need a vehicle. I have a motel room in Tyler. It’s not that far to drive there, walking would take over an hour.”
Before Jackson could respond, the two deputies emerged from the cabin, both looking grim. Green approached her. “Can you verify that man is your Uncle Mark Lange?”
The question stopped her cold. Up to that moment she’d assumed the older man was her uncle as identified via their DNA connection.
Yet the truth was that she hadn’t gotten a close look at his face because of the gunshot wound.
And her aversion to blood and gore. “I—no, I guess I can’t.
Except that he gave me this address and we arranged to meet tonight.
I found him via a DNA connection. If you test the dead man’s blood it should be a match to what’s in the database. ”
“That’s what I thought.” Green sighed. “We’ll get the crime scene techs to run his prints. Maybe he’s in the system. The DNA match will take time.”
“You should look for his phone.” Nina glanced from Green to Sewell. “My uncle and I had two brief phone conversations, but when I called earlier to let him know I was running late, he didn’t answer. I was worried at first, until I approached the cabin and saw that the light was on.”
“Wait, the light was on when you drove up?” Jackson asked.
She flushed, having forgotten to include that detail. It was very different being on this end of an investigation. “Yes, but when the gunman approached, I shut it off.”
“I didn’t see a phone in there,” Sewell said, his shiny brow furrowed.
“I didn’t either, but maybe it’s in his pocket. Could be he didn’t answer because he was already dead.” Green shrugged. “We’ll need to wait for the ME to get here before we search the body. Hopefully he has an ID in his wallet, too.”
“I didn’t find a driver’s license on file.” Nina glanced at Jackson. “At least, not associated with this address.”
“That’s strange,” Green said. “Most people have an ID.”
Nina thought about the photograph she’d found tucked under her uncle’s thigh.
Technically, the photo was evidence and should be handed over to the deputies.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull it from her pocket.
After twenty-eight years she finally had a picture of her mother.
Or at least, the woman she believed was her mother.
If she handed it to the deputies now, she knew it could be months before she got it back.
Anna. Her uncle’s last name was Lange, so it was logical to assume her mother’s name was Anna Lange. The first clue as to her mother’s real identity.
The woman who’d crawled to a fire station with a gunshot wound was no longer a Jane Doe with baby girl Doe. She was Anna Lange.
Nina’s throat swelled with emotion. Maybe it was wrong, but she wasn’t about to hand over the picture to the deputies just yet.
Now that her uncle was gone, the photograph was the only link she had to her past.
* * *
Jackson eyed Nina curiously, wondering if there were additional things she’d failed to mention. Not that forgetting to explain about how the light was on when she arrived was a critical detail, but when it came to crime scenes, everything mattered.
And he was curious about this man who didn’t have a driver’s license associated with his current address. That was odd, too.
“Can we please go?” Nina asked.
Jackson wished they were closer to any of the cities his fellow rangers lived. He considered calling Creed Ramsey, the Texas Ranger who had also been subpoenaed to testify at the Diego Sanchez trial, but Creed was still in Dallas, which was easily an hour or so away.
“We need a ride back to Tyler,” Jackson said to Deputy Green.
“What’s wrong with the car?” Green gestured to Nina’s sedan.
“I would like to have it towed and examined by a mechanic before we try to start it. The gunmen could have done something to it.” Jackson knew he was being overly cautious, but that was part of his job.
“Please, Deputy, it would be nice if you could give us a lift. Nina has been through a lot. And you saw the condition of my SUV.”
“Yeah, that was bad.” Green glanced at Sewell, who lifted a shoulder as if to say, Your call. “Sure, I’ll give you a ride to Tyler. But first I need contact information for the both of you.” He pulled out his notebook. “I’m sure we’ll have more questions once we process the scene.”
Jackson and Nina gave their respective phone numbers and email addresses. When that was finished, Green turned toward Sewell. “I’ll be back soon.”
Jackson would rather have his own set of wheels, but he’d have to wait until morning to get a replacement. If Tyler didn’t have rental cars, he’d have to arrange to obtain a car from Dallas. He may have to call Creed Ramsey after all.
“I have a room at the Sunset Motel,” Nina said. “It’s on the outskirts of town.” She glanced warily at Jackson. “Sorry to say, it’s nothing fancy.”