“Hello, Jorge.” She took in his pale complexion. It didn’t look like he was getting much sleep. Not surprising, considering his goddaughter had been murdered. “How are you?”
“I’m hanging in there. I heard about Victor’s attack on the news last night…” He closed his eyes as if pained. “I’m thankful you weren’t hurt badly.”
“Thank you. I appreciate all of the time you spent answering questions about Debra. I know it can be tedious, but it’s necessary.”
Jorge had spoken to investigators several times since their initial conversation about Debra and her friends. He removed some antibacterial wipes from his cart. “I don’t think I helped much. Debra didn’t tell me a lot, probably because she didn’t want anything to get back to her parents. Her mom and dad arrive in town tonight. I’ve arranged to take some time off to help them plan the funeral.”
He blinked rapidly as if holding back tears, and Avery’s heart wept for him and the rest of Debra’s loved ones. She couldn’t take away their pain, but she would do everything in her power to get them justice. “I’m sorry, Jorge. Please, call the station and let us know the funeral arrangements. I would like to attend, if I can, and I’m sure some of the other staff members would as well.”
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am.”
He started wiping down the table. Avery topped off her coffee and went into the hall. Weston was waiting outside her office door, cowboy hat in hand. His dark hair had been trimmed. The haircut drew attention to the scrape on his forehead from tackling Victor and still-healing cut on his cheek from when they’d been shot at in the woods.
Their eyes met and that knot pressing down on Avery’s chest lightened. Her emotions were a tangled mess when it came to Weston. She wanted to keep him at arm’s length, but it was impossible. Crying on him yesterday proved that.
“Hey, I was just coming to get you,” Weston said. “Grady and Luke are here. They’re waiting in the conference room.”
“Let’s go.” She fell into step beside him. “You got a haircut. It looks good.”
“Thanks.” Dimples flashed in his cheeks, and her heart skittered. “Took only ten minutes at the university’s salon. The stylist was a student in training, but I decided to risk it.”
“You tackled a murder suspect yesterday. An inexperienced stylist is nothing compared to that.”
He snorted. “Speak for yourself. I need a good haircut to offset my ugly face.”
She chuckled. Weston could pose as a male model on any magazine in the country, but saying so would ruin the joke. “Sorry to tell you this, but the haircut doesn’t help.”
“Ouch.”
They turned in to the conference room. The blinds were open, affording them a view of the flowerbeds and trees across the street. The wooden table was long enough to seat twelve, and a huge whiteboard took up one wall.
Luke rose from his chair at the table. He was clean-shaven, the faint scar at the corner of his mouth stretching as he greeted her with a smile. “Avery, it’s good to see you.”
“You too.” They shared a brief hug. “Megan has sent me pictures of the baby. Ava’s precious. Congrats. I’m so sorry you’ve been dragged into this case.”
“Not at all. Megan and Ava are home now, and it’s all hands on deck. Besides, Union County is close enough I can go home at night and see my family. Unfortunately, I also have a house guest.” Luke threw a mock glare at Grady who was standing near the whiteboard. “He convinced my mother to make brownies and then ate every last one.”
“That’s a flat-out lie. Your beef is with your wife. I only had two. The rest disappeared on her watch.”
“Ooooohhh, you did not throw a new mom under the bus like that,” Weston said, shaking his head. Avery joined in on the fun by crossing her arms over her chest and scowling.
Grady laughed and held up his hands. “I take it back. I’m the brownie thief.”
The whole group laughed. Weston clapped each of his fellow Texas Rangers on the back and shook their hands. There were a few more jokes and good-natured teasing as everyone took their seats. It was clear to Avery the three men were very close and extremely supportive of each other. The warmth of their camaraderie was infectious, and it lifted her spirits.
The murders were terrifying and the case difficult, but there wasn’t a better group of people to have on her team.
“Okay, let’s get down to business,” Grady said, opening a binder. “As you all know, Victor Haas immediately lawyered up. It took a bit of time to locate a defense attorney, and I finally interviewed him this morning.”
Avery’s palms were sweaty and she swiped them along her uniform pants. “Did he confess?”
“Victor admitted to the thefts on campus, as well as shooting at you and Weston on Sunday night. As for the murders, however, he claims to be innocent.”
“Do you believe him?”
Grady’s mouth pursed. “I wouldn’t trust Victor farther than I can throw him. We had to offer him a sweetheart deal to get him to even talk to us. Normally, I wouldn’t have done it—”
“Except we’re on a ticking clock.” Avery heard the anger and regret vibrating through Grady’s voice. Victor would serve time for attacking Avery and Weston, along with the thefts, but it would be a fraction of the typical prison sentence given for these types of crimes. Sometimes deals had to be made to get to the truth. “If Victor isn’t the Chessmaster, then someone else is. We need to know as soon as possible to have a chance to stop him. Don’t worry, Grady. I know you did your best.”
“She took the words right out of my mouth,” Weston said. “Nothing is more important than preventing another woman’s death.”
“Thank you both.” Grady gave a sharp
