The Texas Ranger by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online Page B

artist who convinced her that he was with a federal agency and she had to turn over her savings account to him in repayment for back taxes she owed.”
    â€œOf all the damned outrages,” he said, angered in spite of himself.
    That comment moved her. Brannon, despite his rough edges, was compassionate for the weaker or less fortunate. She’d seen him go out of his way to help street people, even to help young men he’d arrested himself. She had to force her eyes away from the powerful, lean contours of his body. She was still fighting a hopeless attraction to him.
    â€œBy the time she found out that no federal agency was asking for her savings,” Josette continued, “it was too late. Some people believe anything they’re told, even from people who don’t prove their credentials. She didn’t even ask for any identification, I understand.”
    He grimaced. “Did she own her home?”
    â€œShe was barely a year away from paying it off. When she couldn’t make the next two payments, the bank foreclosed. She’s staying at a homeless shelter temporarily.” She studied him. “Now put yourself in Dale’s shoes,” she said unexpectedly, “and think how you’d feel if you were in prison and you couldn’t do anything to help her.”
    Brannon remembered his own frail, little mother, who’d died an invalid. His thin lips made a straight line across his formidable face.
    Josette nodded, realizing that he understood. She remembered his mother, too. “I’m not pointing fingers at anybody right now,” she said before he spoke. “I’m telling you that, first, somebody helped him escape prison detail. Second, somebody had proof or was keeping proof hidden of a crime that involved a person of means. Dale must have thought his chances of blackmailing the guilty party were pretty good. That doesn’t explain what he hoped to do on the outside. But he was killed, and in a very efficient manner. Whoever killed him had to know that he’d escaped from that work detail, and exactly where they could find him. I’m assuming that the person who had him killed was satisfied that he had concrete proof of something illegal, and that Dale was helped to escape so that he could present whatever proof he had and be dealt with efficiently.”
    â€œAny prison has inmates who’ll kill for a price,guards and wardens notwithstanding,” he reminded her. “They didn’t have to get him out of prison to have him killed.”
    â€œTrue, but maybe he was lured out to present his proof in person, to make sure that he really had it.” Josette leaned forward and clasped her hands on the desk. “Then, what if they thought he had the proof on him, and he didn’t?”
    â€œWe don’t know that. We didn’t find anything on the body, no ID of any sort, not even a pocketknife. If it hadn’t been for the information about the Wayne escapee fitting Jennings’s description exactly, and that raven tattoo on his arm to clinch it, we might have spent weeks trying to identify the body.”
    She nodded. “So either the perpetrator took the evidence with him, or he didn’t get it and there’s still somebody out there, who was helping Jennings,” she emphasized, “and who now has the evidence and may still use it. Money is a powerful motive for murder. What if Marsh had him killed, for some reason?”
    Brannon frowned. “He’s had people killed before. There could be a hit man on the loose, and whoever he’s working for may dig deep enough to find Jennings’s source.”
    â€œThat means we have another potential murder waiting to happen unless we solve the crime in time,” she agreed.
    He studied her quietly. “You’ve learned a lot in the past few years.”
    â€œSimon taught me,” she said simply. “He started out as an investigator while he was in