The cold snaked under his jacket as he walked between his house and the main one. Clouds, thick with rain, hung on the horizon. Voices filtered out from the kitchen and the heavenly scent of biscuits wafted into the mudroom. Luke shrugged off his jacket and removed his boots before turning the corner.
His mother leaned against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and her eyes sparked behind the lenses of her glasses.
Weston sat at the kitchen table. Luke marveled for a moment that the wooden chair didn’t splinter into toothpicks under his friend’s weight. It’d been nearly a decade since Weston played professional football, but he still retained his tank-like physique. The sunlight from the windows reflected off his ranger badge, and the plate in front of him held remnants of scrambled eggs.
“I see my mother took pity on you, Weston.”
His mouth quirked up. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Luke bent to kiss his mother’s cheek.
“You look like you could use this.” She handed him a fresh cup of coffee and winked. “I hid some breakfast before he could eat it all. I’ll get you a plate.”
“There’s more?” Weston scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“You’ve had two servings already!”
He sent her a charming grin, complete with dimples. “There’s not a woman in three counties that can cook as good as you, ma’am. Can’t blame a man for gobbling up every bite.”
She chuckled. “You always know how to sweet-talk a lady, Weston Donovan.”
Nancy quickly doled out food for the two men. Luke bowed his head and said a quick prayer before digging in. “This is fantastic, Mom. As usual.”
She beamed. “Thanks, hon. I’m going outside to plan my garden. Hank finished tilling it this morning.”
The screen door slapped behind her. Luke took a long sip of his coffee. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“No trouble at all. Your mom’s cooking is an excellent bribe.” Weston cut into the flaky biscuit smothered in white gravy. “What’s going on?”
“I might need your help on a case.” Luke gave him the shorthand version of recent events.
Weston listened carefully, only asking questions for clarification. When he finished, his fellow ranger sat back in the chair. “Was Franny Heath Dickerson’s daughter? He owns a huge ranch out this way, right?”
“Yeah. He inherited a lot of wealth from his father and grandfather. They’re one of the founding families of Cardin.”
“I vaguely remember hearing about her murder, but I was living on the other side of Texas at the time. Catch me up.”
“Franny was shot three years ago in her home. She lived in a cabin near the lake, and the murder took place during the early-morning hours. There were no witnesses. The murder caused a big uproar in the county. Franny’s father, Heath, donated—still does actually—large sums of money to political campaigns, including the sheriff, county prosecutor, mayor. You get the picture.”
Weston nodded. “Go on.”
Luke set his fork down. Acid burned his stomach and he pushed his half-eaten plate away. “The gun used by the perpetrator was never recovered. It’s my understanding the investigator in charge of the case, Dan Carter, didn’t have a lot to go on. In the hours before her murder, Franny had roughly fifty people over to her home for a birthday celebration. Wade had been at the party and was one of the last to leave. A friend whom he gave a ride home alibied him, but a couple of days after Franny’s death, Wade confessed to Megan he went back to Franny’s later that night.”
Weston frowned. “Not good.”
“No. Megan was in her final semester of law school at the time and living in Houston. She called and asked for my help. She wanted me to talk to Wade.”
“Let me guess, you didn’t.”
Luke shook his head. “It was pertinent information in an active murder investigation. I turned it over to the sheriff. Next thing I knew, Wade had confessed to the murder.”
Megan had interpreted his decision as a betrayal. He understood why. Luke might not have meant to, but he’d hurt her. And those type of wounds were the kind that scarred and changed everything forever.
Weston fiddled with his fork. “Talk about complicated.”
Luke picked up his plate and walked to the sink. “Tell me about it.”
“Do you have any reason to believe Franny’s case wasn’t investigated properly?”
“No.” He scraped the remnants of his breakfast into the trash. “But with a high-profile case like Franny’s, the heat to solve it can cause even the best lawmen to make mistakes. The investigator in charge, Dan Carter, is ambitious. Solving Franny’s murder endeared him to the Dickerson family and they’ve endorsed him in the upcoming election for sheriff.”
Luke took the plate his friend extended and ran it under the water. “I would appreciate some backup on this if you’ve got time. This case is personal. I won’t pretend otherwise. Having another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt.”
Weston joined Company A last year. The two men had become friends, and Luke respected his investigative skills and straightforwardness.
“Awww, man. I’d love to help out.” Weston clapped him on the back. “I’m touched you asked.”
Luke’s mouth twitched. “I’m already second-guessing my decision. I should’ve asked Grady.”
Grady West was a fellow ranger in Company A. Luke had worked closely with him last year on a difficult case.
Weston grinned. “Naw, Grady’s not as fun.”
Luke’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel before pulling it out.
“Speaking of Grady…” Luke answered the call. “Morning. I’ve got you on speaker. Weston’s here too.”
“You missed a fantastic breakfast.” Weston leaned a little closer to the phone. “Scrambled eggs, biscuits with gravy, sausage. Luke’s mom cooked the full works.”
Grady’s groan came through the speaker. “All I had was cereal this morning.”
“How come? I thought
