Ranger Guardian

Professional? Sure. Why the hell not?

Her task force. Her lead. Her knock on the door. He turned sideways on the porch to let her pass. The slight scent of ginger and orange filled him with memories. He recognized the smell of her lotion and was getting sentimental. Instead of pulling her into his arms and kissing her until they were both senseless, he tugged off his dark shades and tucked them in his pocket.

He could be professional. If he had to.

Kendall explained who they were when Mrs. Pelzel came to the door. She introduced him as Ranger Murray. No one was the wiser that they were married, since she’d always used her maiden name professionally. Once they were invited inside, Heath quickly discovered Kendall had been on this case for several months. Sitting on one of the most uncomfortable couches in the world, he concentrated on Mrs. Pelzel preparing large glasses of iced tea. A suddenly dry throat couldn’t wait to be quenched.

Kendall looked at a message on her phone, and he wondered how they’d drifted apart. More than five years of his life had been devoted to this woman.

How could it all be gone over one wrong question? He didn’t want it to be. But getting back to her wouldn’t be easy.

Once again, he was close enough to touch his wife, but promise bound to keep it professional. Reminding himself to stay professional. He’d kept that way back when they’d first met. He could do it again now.

Mrs. Pelzel brought the glasses in on a tray. He popped off the couch to help, but she shrugged him off. “Please sit. I have never had a real Texas Ranger visit before. This is so exciting.”

She handed them each a glass. He downed his in record time and could only blame it on nerves.

Kendall set down her glass after taking a sip, then straightened her jacket. Time for business. “Mrs. Pelzel, would you be willing to let my computer forensics team take a look at the PC?”

“Can they do that from here? I don’t think I could live without my computer for a long period of time,” the home owner replied. “That’s how I stay in touch with my grandkids, you know.”

“We could have someone out here in a couple of days,” he answered. “They could check it right here.”

The older woman shook her head. “Oh, wait. You know, I should have told you when you first arrived. There’s really not a problem, so you’d be wasting your time.”

Kendall gave him a look he should have been able to interpret. Maybe she’d just been surprised that he’d given an answer she didn’t like. Maybe she thought it strange that Mrs. Pelzel had changed her mind. He didn’t know, and that was disappointing since he should, being her husband and all.

“Mrs. Pelzel, what happened that made you call the FBI?” Kendall asked. Her notebook was open. Her pen was clicked to a ready position, but her casual body language told him she wasn’t expecting a real answer.

That hadn’t changed, at least. He could still read her mannerisms, it seemed.

“I’m afraid I’m just a silly old ninny who made a mistake,” the older woman said.

Kendall turned a page in her notebook, sliding her finger across the handwriting as she skimmed the page. “You told us you had a feeling that someone was watching you through the computer’s camera.”

“I did,” the older woman whispered.

To her credit, Kendall the FBI agent didn’t roll her eyes or make any facial movement that indicated she didn’t believe the older woman. “You also mentioned that the computer seemed to be running slower since they installed the Public Exposure gadget.”

“Really, you should believe me when I tell you I made a mistake,” Mrs. Pelzel said, her fingers twisting into the loose long-sleeved shirt she wore.

“Will you confirm that you have one of the PE monitoring systems?” Kendall’s enthusiasm moved her forward to the edge of the couch. Both sets of law enforcement eyes moved toward the desk, where the older model computer sat.

“They seem like a legitimate company,” he said, attempting to get Mrs. Pelzel to share more information.

“I’m not a helpless old woman who doesn’t know how to research a product or service. I didn’t think it was anyone’s business how much time I spent online. But the money they offered was enough to buy a new roof. I just couldn’t pass that up.”

He’d heard of Public Exposure and their controversial social media monitoring system. The file he’d been sent from the task force stated a strong belief the group was involved in more than the good of the common man.

“I sound old and kooky about someone watching me. But I swear that the camera light comes on by itself while I’m cooking or watching television. I hear a click, and the red light pops on and off.” She covered her mouth like she’d said something wrong and then looked at her computer.

Warning bells sounded, and he couldn’t help glancing over to see if the light was on.

“It doesn’t sound kooky at all, Mrs. Pelzel,” Kendall comforted. “In fact, we’ve had several other residents report the same thing. But we need to take your computer to our forensic team and have them check—”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll have my granddaughter look at it. I was wrong to bring you here. There’s nothing weird going on.” Mrs. Pelzel stood and lifted her hand toward her front door. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Mrs. Pelzel, I believe you,” Heath said. “A start to resolving this issue would be to make certain you log out of your Wi-Fi. Turn everything off before closing the lid and unplugging it. And ask your granddaughter to verify your router has an encryption key. You might want to change your password.”

“Thank you. I’ll try to remember, and I’m very sorry to have wasted your time.”

Kendall stood, defeat written clearly on her face. She flipped her notebook closed and stowed it away inside her suit jacket. They both stopped on the front walk when the door shut. Heath squinted at the noon sun and put his glasses on while she made a couple of more notes.

“The precautions won’t make any difference,” Kendall told him, following with her sunglasses dangling from between her fingers.

“You don’t think this is someone trying to steal identities, like that file sitting in my car states.”

“It’s bigger than that.” Kendall continued to her car.

“How many reports have you taken?”

“Dozens.” Kendall leaned on the government-issued sedan, appearing more defeated now than she had inside the house. “And for every person who reports that their camera light is sporadically coming on, there are probably another dozen who don’t.”

“It’s a shame she wouldn’t let an expert search her computer. But if you have had that many complaints, why haven’t your FBI computer whizzes found what you need from those victims?” He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned his hip against the sedan, close to her.

“What did you think of Public Exposure before this morning?”

“I’ve seen their public service announcements. They’re a group that promotes kids playing outside instead of hanging on social media. How are they involved in potential identity theft?”

“First, no accounts have been affected—bank, credit card or otherwise. None of these complaints go further than what you witnessed. Mrs. Pelzel doesn’t realize that it was me who she spoke with when she called. I take the complaints, but by the time I get to an interview, something has changed their minds and they’ve all made a mistake.”

“All of them?”

“This makes over twenty. Oh, and they all use the word kooky.”

“They can’t all be saying the same thing. You think Public Exposure is threatening them?”

“Yes. Sometime between when the resident calls me and when I get here. All of these people withdraw their complaints or concerns and I can’t move forward.”

Mrs. Pelzel watched them from her window. Heath saw her drop the curtain back into place. Without moving his head, he looked at the windows of the neighbors. More than one resident peered through the blinds.

“I kind of understand about that feeling of being watched.” He barely nodded, but Kendall picked up what he was throwing down.

“There’s also a white van at the end of the block.” She pointed a finger behind her.

He glanced in that direction. “Two men in the front seat. Just sitting like they were when I arrived.”

“Want another chat?”