Six #2
“I have, yes. Mr. Lange died of a gunshot wound to the right temple. There are powder burns on his skin that indicate the barrel of the weapon was pressed firmly against the temple when the gun was fired.” There was a brief pause.
“Too firmly, if you want my opinion. I noticed there were some calluses on Mr. Lange’s left hand.
I don’t have concrete proof that he was left-handed, but when I consider the pressure of the weapon on his temple, I have ruled his death as inconclusive.
It’s very possible his death is the result of foul play. ”
Murdered. Dr. Kraft hadn’t said the word, but she knew her uncle had been murdered.
A wave of nausea swirled in her stomach. How many people had to die before they understood what was going on?
* * *
Jackson wasn’t shocked by the ME’s conclusions but wished they had more concrete evidence to point to murder. “Is there a way to get Lange’s medical records to see if being left-handed is documented anywhere?”
“I have requested the records, but most of them are from the state penitentiary. In my experience, the prison system isn’t very good at providing thorough documentation.” Dr. Kraft’s tone sounded apologetic. “If there is family in the area, you should ask them about that.”
“I’ll see what we can do.” Jackson purposefully kept his comment vague. The only family they were aware of was Nina, since her DNA only matched her Uncle Mark and nobody else. She likely had no idea if her mother or her uncle were left-handed. “Anything else of note?”
“Not much. I won’t have the tox screens back for another couple of weeks,” Dr. Kraft explained. “I understand there was a bottle of booze on the table, but I didn’t see any alcohol in his stomach. His last meal was a hamburger, likely consumed shortly before his death.”
“I didn’t see any fast-food wrappers around,” Nina whispered.
He shrugged. Mark Lange didn’t have a car, at least not that he saw at the cabin. Or a driver’s license. Either the food was delivered or he’d cooked it himself.
“I also didn’t find any signs of long-term alcohol or drug abuse,” Dr. Kraft went on. “I know he has a criminal record related to drug trafficking, but if he was a user, he’s been clean for years. His heart and lungs were in good shape for his age.”
“I knew it,” Nina whispered.
“Okay, if you could send your report to me when it’s finalized, I’d appreciate it. Especially the tox screen.” Jackson rattled off his email address. “Thanks for doing this so quickly, Dr. Kraft.”
“You’re welcome.” The doctor ended the call.
Jackson looked at Nina. “I think you’re right—its looking like murder.”
“Too bad we don’t know the motive behind it.” Her brow furrowed. “I think we should concentrate on Temple as a starting point.”
He tipped his head to the side, regarding her thoughtfully. “It’s only a few hours from here, so I’m not opposed to the idea, but what’s the plan? We just show up and start asking questions?”
She flushed. “I’m not sure. Maybe we start with the hospital. I know medical records are confidential, but with my mother being murdered, I’d think we should be able to access them. There’s no concern for confidentiality once a person is dead.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. But he didn’t want to go empty-handed. He reached for his phone. “I’ll ask Owens to get a judge to sign off on a subpoena. That way we’ll avoid getting the runaround.”
“Not sure you have enough probable cause,” Creed drawled. “And have you forgotten it’s Saturday?”
He had forgotten. Yet law enforcement work didn’t stop on the weekends. He shrugged. “Can’t hurt to try. There’s always a judge on call. And this is a murder investigation. I’m sure our boss can express a sense of urgency.”
“Normally, I do the paperwork for our subpoenas,” Nina said with a sigh. “It’s really strange to be on this end of things.”
When Owens didn’t answer, Jackson left a message, glancing at his watch. Temple was almost two hours south of their current location. Hopefully, if they headed out as soon as they finished breakfast, they’d have the subpoena when they arrived at the hospital.
He went to refill his coffee cup. Less than five minutes later, there was a sharp knock at the door. As before, Jackson pulled his weapon and stood behind Creed as his fellow ranger peered through the peephole before opening the door.
Jackson didn’t relax until Creed had taken the tray from the hotel employee and handed over a generous tip.
Nina reluctantly put the computer away to make room on the small table. “Smells good.”
“I’d like to say grace.” Jackson found it easier this time to pray out loud. “Lord Jesus, we ask You to bless this food we are about to eat. Please continue to guide us with Your wisdom as we seek the truth. Amen.”
“Amen,” Nina murmured.
A heartbeat later, Creed echoed with a muttered, “Amen.”
They ate in silence for several minutes. The food was good, and he sensed Creed watching in amusement as he doused his eggs with hot sauce. As if there was another way to eat them.
“I think we may need to rent another SUV,” Creed said between bites. “In case we need to split up.”
Jackson nodded. “That’s a good idea. We can cover more ground that way.”
Nina frowned as if she didn’t like that plan. After a moment, she said, “I’d like to stay focused on digging into my birth mother’s background. I need to borrow your phone to call the Dallas PD about my mother’s case. If we’re splitting up, maybe Creed can continue investigating my uncle’s murder.”
“Sure, that works. We also need to pick up a disposable phone for Nina.” His mental checklist was getting longer. He ate faster than usual, itching to hit the road.
“I really wish it wasn’t the weekend,” Nina said. “I would love to check out the high school, but I’m sure it’s locked for the weekend.”
“Yeah, that does put a crimp in things.” Jackson frowned. “There may be yearbooks online, though.”
Nina perked up at that. “Good idea. I’ll start there. Maybe I’ll find pictures of my mother with her friends.”
As soon as they finished eating, they packed their meager belongings in the SUV. Jackson settled his cowboy hat on his head, glancing up at the sun. The sultry Texas air was already thick with humidity, but there wasn’t a rain cloud in sight.
A few minutes later, they were settled in the SUV, with Creed behind the wheel. Hard to argue over his buddy wanting to drive, since it was his vehicle. “Let’s get the rental first,” he told Creed. “Dallas is bigger and has probably has more options than Temple.”
Creed nodded and headed toward the big city. The highway out here wasn’t too congested, but Jackson knew it would get worse the closer they got to Dallas. He swallowed a sigh of impatience. He should have waited another hour, but it was too late now.
Besides, he was anxious to get to Temple. Once they’d gotten their rental car, they should be in the clear heading out of the city.
Nina borrowed his phone to call the Dallas PD nonemergency line but was forced to leave a message. They rode in silence for a few minutes, when Creed frowned. “I think we have company.”
“What?” Jackson twisted in his seat to see what caught Creed’s attention. “The black truck?”
“Yep.” Creed pressed harder on the gas pedal. The black truck behind them did the same.
“How did they find us?” Nina asked, her tone laced with fear.
“Not sure.” That wasn’t his main concern right now. Jackson turned back to study the area. They were on a two-way highway that would take them into Dallas. The only way to try and lose the black truck was to turn off on a side road.
Unfortunately, there weren’t many side roads in this area.
And there also weren’t many trees or other cover.
This was a deserted stretch of highway, which put them at a distinct disadvantage.
He grimly realized that the minute Creed turned off the highway, the driver of the black truck would see them and do the same.
Yet they didn’t have a choice. “Get off this highway ASAP,” he told Creed. “But try not to let the guy behind us know your intent until the last possible minute.”
“I’m on it.” Just as Creed took his foot off the accelerator to make the turn, the sharp crack of gunfire split the air. The bullet pinged off the roof of their SUV. The shooter behind them had aimed too high.
“Nina, get down!” Jackson pulled his sidearm and lowered his window. Leaning out as far as he dared, he returned fire. Yet he knew his chances of hitting the truck from this position were slim to none. The best he could hope for was to hold them off long enough so they could escape.
Creed abruptly hit the brake and wrenched the wheel to the side, giving Jackson the angle he needed. He quickly fired several shots, one striking the middle of the windshield. The truck swerved and drove off the highway into the open field beyond.
Jackson ducked back inside the SUV. “Go, go!”
Creed did so, pulling back out onto the road and punching the gas pedal. The SUV’s engine revved loudly. Jackson found himself holding his breath as he watched through the back window. Within minutes, the black truck was nothing more than a speck on the horizon behind them.
As Jackson willed his heart rate to settle back into a normal rhythm, he realized the truck he’d just disabled hadn’t sported any other bullet holes than the one he’d just put in the windshield, despite the fact he’d fired at it repeatedly last night outside the Sunset Motel. In fact, it appeared brand-new.
Dazed, he realized that whoever these guys were, it appeared they had unlimited resources at their disposal.
And that wasn’t good.