Daughter of Texas by Terri Reed Page B

pain she was trying to control. Even knowing she was well-guarded hadn’t eased the tightness in his chest. Nor had helping her plan the funeral. Seeing her distress had only cut him deeper.
    Knowing she was so full of anger at God hurt him to the core. He’d prayed long and hard for God to comfort her and give her peace. And he prayed God would answer the question. Not the one asking why God had allowed this to happen, but rather who had killed Greg, and why.
    Frustratingly, the Rangers’ investigation seemed to be at a dead end. The DA hadn’t found a link between Greg’s death and any old cases he’d worked. Forensics hadn’t revealed anything useful; the facial recognition software had yet to give names to their unconscious victim or the intruder whom Corinna had seen. Ben wasn’t any closer to knowing what Greg had been working on.
    Aggravation and anger revved through him every time he realized that if they didn’t get a break soon, the person who’d killed Greg was going to get away with it.
    Ben clenched his jaw and vowed never to stop investigating Greg’s death. No matter how long the search for the killer took.
    The melancholy sound of a flute playing “Amazing Grace” pulled Ben from his thoughts. He and Daniel stepped forward to carefully remove the American flagfrom the coffin and fold it into a triangle. Ben presented the folded flag to Corinna. Her delicate hands closed over his for a moment. Her skin was icy and sent a shiver of awareness up Ben’s arm. Their gazes met. Ben felt her grief down to the marrow of his bones.
    He inclined his head, acknowledging their shared pain, and released his hold. Corinna clutched the flag to her chest and closed her eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Ben positioned himself at her side and encircled her waist with his arm. She stiffened but didn’t move away. One by one the mourners paraded in front of her, offering murmured condolences before leaving the grave site.
    When only the Rangers of Company D remained, Ben led Corinna toward the waiting limousine that would take them back to the Pike house, where Corinna had insisted the mourners gather for a memorial service.
    Once inside the roomy car, Corinna settled on the leather seat with a sigh. “I hate this.”
    Sitting across from her, Ben leaned forward to take her cold hands in his and rubbed them in an effort to warm her up. “You’re doing great.”
    She gave him a wan smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It was nice to see so many people had cared for my father.”
    â€œHe was well-loved and respected.”
    One side of her mouth lifted in a cynical smile. “So it would seem. But someone out there didn’t love him. Someone killed him. I searched every face in the crowd for someone who looked guilty, who seemed satisfied to see my father in the grave. I came up empty. The guy in the sketch wasn’t there, either.” She pinned him withan intense look. “Do you think the guy that broke in is the same person who killed my father?”
    â€œI won’t know until we catch him.”
    She turned to stare out the window. “What if he’s not? What if there’s someone else behind Dad’s murder?”
    â€œThen we keep pushing for the truth.”
    â€œBut maybe at the house someone will slip up and we can nail the person responsible for my father’s death.”
    Her words slammed into his gut. Now he understood why she’d wanted the service to be at her house. She hoped to trap a killer. Concern pounded in his veins.
    His own disappointment that he hadn’t brought the murderer down yet coiled inside of him. Rage smoldered like a burning coal left in the grate. He could only do so much with the little bit of evidence they had. And it wasn’t enough. His jaw tightened. Failure wasn’t an option. Not on this.
    And Corinna’s safety was paramount.
    â€œYou need to leave