Security Blanket by Delores Fossen

wanted to talk to them, Marin thought of the bug, and her parents who were probably trying to hear every word. “We’ll have some privacy out here,” she told him, and Jack didn’t say anything until they walked into the enclosed patio.
    “My deputy wasn’t able to find the truck or the driver,” Jack announced, causing Lucky to groan. The sheriff volleyed glances at them and kept his voice low. “You’re sure this guy tried to kill you?”
    “Dead sure,” Lucky insisted.
    Jack nodded and seemed to accept that as gospel truth. “The ranch hands said the truck wasn’t used very often and was put in the barn for the winter. Keys were almost certainly in the ignition, and the barn wasn’t locked, either. They didn’t see anyone around that part of the pasture.”
    “I guess that means no one saw the driver?” she asked.
    “No one,” Jack Whitley verified. “But there were footprints in the barn, and there’s a Texas Ranger coming out from the crime lab. He’ll take impressions and try to see if that’ll tell us anything.” His attention landed on Marin. “I spoke to your dad. He says this has nothing to do with Dexter.”
    It took Marin several long moments to figure out how to answer that. “I want to believe that.”
    Jack didn’t answer right away, either. “Yeah. I understand. But since I have a job to do and since I’m sure you don’t want to dodge any more trucks, I have to say that the circumstantial evidence is pointing to Dexter.”
    “Why do you say that?” Lucky wanted to know.
    The sheriff took out the envelope he had tucked beneath his arm. “A visitor who just arrived and this.” He extracted a photo from the envelope and handed it to Lucky.
    Marin leaned in so she could see the photograph, as well. It was a grainy shot, taken from what appeared to be the surveillance camera outside the bank on Main Street. But even with the grainy shot, it wasn’t hard to make out the woman’s face.
    “That’s Brenna Martel,” Lucky confirmed. “She’s someone else I thought was dead.”
    Jack made a sound of agreement. “While I was looking around for that truck driver, I had the Justice Department give me a case update.” Now, his attention turned to Lucky. “I know who you really are. And it seems your sister and now this woman might both be alive. Dexter, too.”
    Three people, all presumed dead. Now, all alive. Innocent people didn’t usually let their friends and families believe they were dead unless something bad, very bad, was going on.
    “You said something about a visitor?” Lucky prompted.
    Marin held her breath. God, had one of those three come to the ranch?
    “The visitor is the other player in the case,” Jack explained. “Grady Duran.”
    “He’s here?” And Lucky didn’t sound any happier about it than Marin was.
    “Duran’s here,” the sheriff verified. “And he’s demanding to speak to both of you now.”
     
    L UCKY WOULD HAVE preferred to delay this meeting.
    After all, Marin was just coming down from a horrible ordeal. The last thing he wanted was to add any more tension to her already stress-filled day. But this chat with Duran might give them answers, and right now, answers were in very short supply.
    “I’d rather you waited in the bedroom,” Lucky repeated to Marin. But like the other two times he’d said it, she didn’t budge. She walked side by side with him toward the front of the ranch house where the sheriff had said Grady Duran was waiting to see them. Sheriff Whitley was right behind them.
    “If Duran’s the one who just tried to kill us, then I want the chance to confront him,” Marin insisted.
    That’s what Lucky was afraid of. That Duran had indeed been behind the wheel of the truck. And that Duran would try to kill them again.
    But why?
    Lucky kept going back to that critical question. If Duran was on the up and up and simply wanted answers as to Dexter’s whereabouts, then he wouldn’t want Marin and him dead. He’d follow