Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) Read Online Free PDF Page A

night. Might’ve seen something. He snapped a picture of the bottle and popped it into an evidence bag.
    “Thought you said it wasn’t evidence.” Swope sounded pissed.
    “I said I didn’t think the perp left it. Doesn’t mean it’s not evidence.” Rafe returned to his inspection, and Swope stayed on him.
    “Sheriff’s office said you had some trouble a few miles from here last night. Could the two incidents be related?”
    Rafe had been wondering the same thing, especially since the kid had a knife. What if he’d shot the kid when he’d had the chance? Would Teke Cruz still be alive? The breakfast burrito he wolfed down an hour ago soured in his stomach. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat and grit off the back of his neck. Forget the coffee; he needed a drink. Preferably whiskey, straight up.
    He sure as hell wasn’t sharing with Swope. “The old Pittman place had a break-in, that’s all.” Rafe made the next corner and headed down the crime scene perimeter with Swope barking at his heels.
    “Heard the Pittman girl was back.”
    “That’s right.”
    “So what happened last night? Did the perp run or what?”
    “Read my report.” Rafe quickened his pace. He could see exactly where this conversation was going, and he was sick of taking Swope’s shit.
    Two joggers slowed their pace and pressed against the tape to get a peek at the body in the riverbed, but it was obscured by the M.E.
    Swope waved them on. “Unless you’d like to make a statement, keep moving along, folks. This is a crime scene.”
    Speaking of which. “I got this, Swope. Don’t need any backup.”
    “Seems like you could have used some last night.”
    Here it comes.
    “Should’ve called me. I’d have sent my baby sister over. She could use some target practice.”
    Rafe had deep-down hated Derek Swope since Swope caught him at a stolen vehicle stop. Department rules required officers to approach a felony suspect with a drawn weapon, but Rafe couldn’t pull his revolver out of the holster. The perp was unarmed and surrendered without incident, but Swope had seen enough to smell a rat. Maybe it was fortunate Swope was the kind of guy who’d probably tortured small animals when he was a kid. He should have reported Rafe to the chief. Instead he’d been on Rafe about it ever since.
    Rafe’s patience was growing thin. He stopped and got up in Swope’s face. “You have a problem with me?” Rafe used every bit of his three-inch advantage and thirty pounds of muscle to jump down Swope’s throat.
    Swope’s pale blue eyes bulged nervously. “Not me,” he said, stepping back.
    All hat, no cattle. That’s Swope.
    “Well, better get back to my patrol.” Swope grinned stiffly, baring his yellowy teeth, and tipped his Stetson. “Maybe I’ll stop by the old Pittman place. Heard that gal was hot and easy. Like to get me some of that.”
    As he watched Swope’s back disappear across the lawn, Rafe’s fists tightened, then he shook them loose. What did he care? If Dinah wanted to screw every guy in El Royo, it was nothing to him. He was going to get himself a sweet girl and settle down. He was. He just needed more time to work through a few things. He turned back to the tape.
    Swope shouted across the park. “Hey, Morales, how about we get together at the shooting range next week. Bet you got yourself a sharp eye.”
    Rafe didn’t look up until Swope’s cruiser pulled away from the curb. What could he say? Everything Swope said was true.
    “Rafe? Can you come down?” It was the M.E.
    Rafe pushed past a knot of gapers. They’d gathered beside the roped-off bridge where they had an excellent view of the stewing corpse and the M.E. As he hurried past them, a sweet voice called out to him. “What happened?” Rafe turned. A pregnant girl he’d never seen before pressed against the tape. She wore pink shorts and a thick Dallas Cowboys jersey. Probably a high-school kid.
    Rafe addressed the small crowd.