Her Texas Lawman

“God forbid, but if something else happens, you’ll be the first to hear it, Ripp.”

A week later, Lucita was in her classroom at St. Francis High School, cramming the last of her geometry papers to be graded into a nylon tote bag. The bell announcing the end of the last class had rung more than thirty minutes ago and she’d finally gotten her desk straightened and everything packed that she needed to take home.

The past week had been a trying one, with sporadic headaches and a slew of extracurricular activities after classes. Somehow she’d made it through without missing a day of work, but now she was totally exhausted. The only thing keeping her upright was the fact that it was Friday and she could hopefully catch up on sleep over the weekend.

Pausing at the open door of the principal’s office, she waved a hand at the woman sitting behind the wide desk. “Have a good weekend, Maud.”

The blond-haired principal gave her a weary smile. “You, too, Luci. And be sure and take care of that head.”

Lucita absently touched a hand to the spot that her cousin Nicci had stitched together. The gash was healing, but still terribly sore.

Her family had all been very upset about her accident. Matt had even been threatening to hire a private investigator and a bodyguard to watch over her. But she’d stood her ground. She didn’t want anyone following her around as if she was some sort of celebrity or politician who needed to be guarded from the public. And she certainly didn’t want a P.I. snooping into her privacy. She wanted to live like a normal person. Besides, she’d told them, it had probably been an angry student who’d simply been trying to scare her before the incident snowballed into an accident. Lucita wasn’t sure she’d convinced any of them. After all, she wasn’t entirely convinced, herself.

From what Matt had told her, Ripp had sent paint chips from her car’s bumper to a crime lab in San Antonio. He was also searching for Derek’s whereabouts. But since she and Matt hadn’t heard from the deputy since then, it was evident he’d not found a substantial lead. Which wasn’t surprising. For the past three years Derek had slipped off the radar. But Lucita wasn’t going to dwell on her ex. He’d already ruined too much of her life. And why would he want to harm her now? He’d already gotten what he wanted—her money. He was a thief. Not a stalker.

Smiling at the principal, she said, “Don’t worry. A couple of days of rest and I’ll be like new.”

With a final wave, Lucita moved on down the wide corridor leading to the front exit of the building. At this time of the day the halls of the Catholic high school were eerily quiet. Normally, Lucita loved being around groups of energetic teenagers. From the first day she’d entered the fourth-grade classroom where Mrs. Baldwin made learning an exciting venture for the whole class, Lucita had set her heart on being just like the feisty teacher. And that decision hadn’t wavered as she’d grown into adulthood.

Even marrying Derek at twenty-two and giving birth to Marti three years later hadn’t deterred her determination to get a degree in mathematics and her Texas teaching certificate. For the past twelve years she’d been teaching in a private school in Corpus Christi. The other teachers there had become like family to her. She’d hated to leave, but Matt had convinced her that with Derek gone and out of her life, there was no reason left for her and Marti to stay on the coast. Now she was starting over at St. Francis, trying to build new friendships and a new life and wondering if she’d done the right thing by coming home to the Sandbur.

Since her smashed car had gone to the graveyard at Santee’s Salvage she’d been driving one of the ranch’s work trucks. Matt and Cordero had tried to insist that she take one of their family cars, but she’d refused, reminding her brothers that she’d come home to the Sandbur to be with her family, not to use them. The brown Ford she’d collected from the ranch yard was several years old with ripped upholstery and a bed full of hay hooks, horse halters and fencing tools. Black decals of the S/S brand were plastered on both doors, leaving no doubt as to which teacher was driving the banged-up vehicle, but Lucita could care less about keeping up appearances. As long as she had transportation to and from work, she was content. As soon as her insurance policy settled, she’d find herself some little economical car that could make the sixty-plus-mile round-trip every day on a few dollars of gas.

This morning she’d managed to find a parking slot beneath one of the flowering pear trees growing at the edge of the school parking lot. Now as she opened the door and threw her tote bag and purse inside, she was glad for the shade. At least she could slide beneath the steering wheel without blistering her rear.

She’d started the engine and was about to jerk the floor shift into Reverse when she noticed a piece of folded notebook paper beneath her windshield wiper.

Probably a student who couldn’t face her with some sort of request, she thought, or one who needed a second chance at a flunked test.

Sighing, she thrust the floor gearshift into Neutral and left the engine running while she stepped down to retrieve the paper. Once she was back in the truck, she started to toss the note into her purse and go on her way, but curiosity got the better of her at the last second and she unfolded the square.

The typed words in front of her were so unexpected and strange that for a moment she couldn’t assimilate what she was reading. Then she began to shake.

Deposit one million dollars into this account by Wednesday noon. If you don’t comply, you’ll wish like hell you had. Derek

After the word account there was a row of numbers and the name of a nearby bank. As for the signature, since it was also typed, there was no absolute way to tell if her ex-husband had actually written it.

Oh, God. Oh, God. What was she supposed to do now?

Deputy McCleod. The tall, lanky lawman was the first image to come to Lucita’s frantically racing mind. Ripp had to know about this. Not just because he was the deputy working her case, but also because she trusted him. His solid presence would make her feel safe, something she desperately needed at the moment.

Lucita drove the twenty-six miles from Victoria to Goliad with her cell phone next to her on the seat and one eye on the rearview mirror. By the time she parked in front of the sheriff’s department, she was still shaking, but she’d managed to gather her senses together. She walked into the building with gritty determination on her face.

“Can I help you?”

The question came from a female officer sitting behind a waist-high counter. She was much younger than Lucita, on the curvy side, with pale blond hair pulled into a ponytail.

“I’d like to speak with Deputy McCleod if he’s here,” Lucita told her.

The young officer’s brows lifted marginally. “He’s here. Just a minute.”

The woman left the area behind the counter and disappeared down a corridor.