Page 34 of Ranger Honor

Fourteen

Morning sunshine filtered through the trees as Claire stepped onto Maribelle Sterling’s front porch. The weathered wood creaked under her boots. She was dreading this conversation. A death notification was never easy, but Xavier’s potential involvement in the murder made things even more complicated.

Gavin stepped onto the porch beside Claire. His broad shoulders were encased in a heavy jacket, his holstered weapon visible underneath. Strength and competence oozed from him. The hardened man next to her was a far cry from the one who’d tenderly hugged her son yesterday. Both made her heart skip a beat.

She shook off her wayward thoughts. There was a possibility Gavin would close this case, leave town, and never look back. She would be wise to guard her heart. Along with her son’s. They hadn’t been enough for her ex-husband. There was no need to risk being hurt like that again.

Claire formed a fist and knocked on the front door. Shuffling came from inside moments before the curtain on a nearby window shifted. Half of Maribelle’s face was visible. A watery blue eye widened at the sight of them on her porch, but she didn’t move to open the door.

“I need to speak to you, Mrs. Whitlock.” Claire held up the postcard she’d taken from Stephanie’s mother during their last conversation. “It’s about your daughter. It’s important.”

The curtain fluttered again as Maribelle disappeared from sight. Seconds later, the lock snicked and the front door opened. Claire cast a quick glance at Gavin before focusing on the older woman in front of them. Maribelle wore a threadbare dress and fraying slippers. A shawl—the ratty one from before—was wrapped around her narrow shoulders. Her gaunt face was impossibly thin, the cheekbones threatening to poke through the skin.

“May we come in, Mrs. Whitlock?” Claire asked. Gavin’s hand was discreetly on his weapon. He caught the meaning in the glance she’d given him. They would work as a team. She would distract Maribelle while he made sure Xavier wasn’t hiding in the house.

The older woman waved her in. Claire crossed over the threshold. “Is someone here with you?”

“No.” Maribelle wrapped the shawl tighter around her shoulders. The interior of the home wasn’t any warmer than outside. A wooden stove sat unused in the center of the living room. “Xavier hasn’t been here for days.”

“Do you know where he is?”

She shook her head. Her gaze followed Gavin as he crossed to the opposite side of the room before settling back on Claire. “Xavier doesn’t keep me informed about his whereabouts. You said there was news about Stephanie? What is it?”

“Let’s sit down.” Claire steered Stephanie’s mother toward a scratched kitchen table. Maribelle looked ready to collapse on her feet. A pot of tea was steaming on the stove. Claire gathered a crack cup from the drying rack and poured some. She pushed it toward Maribelle with a gentle smile. “It’s cold today.”

“It is.” She wrapped her hands around the mug. Her voice was hoarse as if rarely used. “Please, Sheriff…I need to know about my daughter.”

Claire pulled out a chair and sat. There was no easy way to say this. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Whitlock, but yesterday, we discovered your daughter’s body inside her vehicle. She was murdered.”

Maribelle blinked. Her chin trembled. “And the note?”

Claire set the postcard on the table. “We had this analyzed. Stephanie didn’t write it.”

Her hands tightened around the mug. Tears leaked from her eyes, but there was no shock or denial. Claire let out a breath. “You suspected she was dead?”

Maribelle nodded. “My daughter wouldn’t have cut off communication with me. She didn’t get along with Xavier. That’s no secret, but we were very close.” She nibbled her lip. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. Faye’s death is my fault. Last month, she came to visit me in the hospital. I’m sick. Heart failure. I asked her to look for Stephanie…I wanted my baby found.”

“Why didn’t you come to me with your suspicions?”

“I didn’t think you would believe me. I figured if Faye tried to look for Stephanie, and couldn’t find her, she would ask you to reopen the case.”

Claire tamped down the anger threatening to flood her veins. Maribelle wasn’t responsible for Faye’s death, but she could’ve aided the investigation. They’d been on her front porch a week ago and she’d said nothing. But Xavier had been there. “Your husband didn’t want you to look for Stephanie, did he?”

“No. Xavier…” She swallowed hard. “He’s a difficult man. Stephanie didn’t approve of the way he treated me. It caused many arguments. But he didn’t kill my daughter, if that’s what you’re asking. Xavier was here with me the night that Stephanie disappeared.”

Claire stilled. Was Maribelle lying? She could be protecting Xavier. “Can you be certain your husband had nothing to do with Stephanie’s murder?”

“Absolutely. Xavier is capable of bad things, but he didn’t kill Stephanie.”

“Does he hurt you?”

Maribelle didn’t answer. Her gaze was locked on the tea in front of her. Claire felt, rather than heard, Gavin standing near the front door. He was keeping guard, but not intruding on the conversation.

Claire placed a hand on Maribelle’s arm. The bones were delicate and thin, like a bird. “If you want to leave Xavier, I can protect you. He won’t harm you ever again.”

“Where would I go? I have no money. I’m ill—”

“We can make arrangements. For starters, you can stay in a cabin on my family’s property.” She tilted her head to look Maribelle in the eye. “Let’s get you someplace warm and then we can figure out the next steps.”

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