Ranger Defender. Angi Morgan

not, I give you permission to eat with your fingers.”

      “Like a wild man. Cool.”

      “But you still have to explain. What does Rashid Parker have to do with my brother?”

      “One. Wade didn’t obtain the complete list but he confirmed Parker was at the hospital for the study. Don’t ask me how, I’m not asking him. But Parker is definitely a part of the same sleep study that your brother was involved in. Two. None of those men and women are listed as subject anything. And three...”

      “Yes?”

      “Three is that it feels off, too convenient. Why did your brother confess and why has he never been able to recall the details about that day? Everything else, yes, but not that day?” His stomach growled again. “Can you dig me a roll out of the sack?”

      “There’s a fourth thing.” She handed him two fluffy yeast rolls.

      “Yeah?”

      “The incidents both happened at the VA Hospital.”

      “Damn, you’re right.” He inhaled a buttery roll and swallowed. “That’s one too many.” “Rolls?”

      He laughed. “No. The number of coincidences.”

      “So do you think they’ll let you reopen the case?”

      “Hold on a sec.” Slate called Wade through his hands-free set, leaving it on speaker so Vivian could hear. “You still at the office, man?”

      “Where else am I going to be until these files are done?”

      “Forget I asked. Give Heath the necessary info and he’ll run his magic on that sleep-study list.”

      “So my hunch was right?”

      “You can lord it over me later.” He quickly looked at Vivian. “Call Heath. I need that info before I hit Watts’s lawyer’s office in the morning.”

      “I’ll get him started. We looking for anything in particular?”

      “If I’m right, you’ll know.” He disconnected as he pulled in front of Vivian’s apartment. He could see the hesitation in her body language before she pulled the door handle. “Look, Vivian, I should probably get home.”

      She visibly relaxed. “Thank you for everything, Slate. I should head inside. I’m working a double tomorrow, so would you leave me a message if you find anything?”

      He nodded and pushed the dinner sack at her when she set it in her vacated seat. “You take it. I’ll pick up a burger on the way home.”

      “I can’t possibly.”

      “It’s the least I can do for dragging you around in the rain.”

      Her head shook from side to side. “You aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?”

      “I’ll stop by the wing place if I find anything.”

      “Thank you for your help.”

      “I haven’t done anything yet.”

      Vivian’s expression filled with sadness and regret. With that, she shut the truck door. He could read people pretty well and she was silently screaming that she didn’t expect anyone—especially a lawman—to help. He waited for her to go inside her apartment, then called Wade again.

      “Miss me already?” Wade answered.

      “Check with the OIG for the VA. See if they have any weird reports or complaints.”

      “That would be the Office of Inspector General for Veterans Affairs that won’t be open until tomorrow. And what will you be doing?”

      “I’m going home and repairing a barn stall like I told my dad I would. I’m also about to beg my mother to fix me dinner. Totally starved.”

      “Bring the leftovers tomorrow. Payback for me doing all your legwork.”

      “You’re the one sitting behind a desk, man. I’m the one sitting on wet denim from doing your legwork on this hunch of yours.”

      “And it’s paying off.”

      “Tomorrow, man.”

      It was probably better that Vivian Watts had to work a double tomorrow. Probably better since he needed to wrap up his current caseload before he could take vacation days and help her. He couldn’t flash around his badge, but mentioning that he was a ranger might open some doors that had been slammed for her.

      Statistics weren’t in their favor. He wouldn’t be just another man who got her hopes up and left her hanging.

       Chapter Nine

      “I could never have assumed that Rashid would react to the suggestion before he left the hospital.” Abby pulled at her cuticles with tweezers. She spoke to the only person completely familiar with her work, herself.

      Several doctors, including Roberts, had ordered her to stop, stating it was unhealthy to pick at her nails. They were wrong.

      Her skin was raw, but there were still pieces. She picked more furiously before looking up into her red, freshly scrubbed face. Certain there was another layer of dirt on her epidermis, she obtained another washcloth, rubbing and scrubbing as hard as she could.

      Setting the cloth onto the counter, she switched back to the tweezers, picking until the bright red of her clean blood seeped around the nail. She went to the cabinet to remove the last washcloth from the sealed bag. She would begin the cleansing process again until she was positive the germs from walking on an unfamiliar street were no longer present.

      “Enough!” her reflection yelled.

      “I can never get clean enough,” she answered behind the cloth.

      “You must control yourself, Abby. Break from your routine. There is work to be done. Check the list you made while waiting for the train. It’s thorough.”

      “Yes. I need to identify the woman in the truck.” The tweezers caught her eye. She dropped the newer white cloth on top of the metal but immediately had to place them in the sterilizing jar.

      “My darling Abby. You are so smart and will find my answers. The perfect death will be ours. I’ve always had faith in you.”