Page 4 of Ranger Belief
When his gaze caught hers, a myriad of emotions flickered in the depths of those gorgeous deep brown eyes. Relief. Worry. And buried deep…fear.
Jonah closed the distance between them in two strides. The urge to hug her, to comfort and protect her, was overwhelming, and somehow, she sensed it. Laney put up a hand to ward him off. “I’m fine.” She bit her lip and whispered, “Please don’t. I’ll fall apart.”
He drew up short, forcing himself to hold back. For her sake. “What happened?”
“I stumbled onto the scene of a double murder, and the killer attacked me.” Laney reached down to pet Scout. The dog leaned her body against Laney’s, clearly attuned to her handler's distress. “Scout came to my rescue. She chased the perpetrator away seconds before I passed out.”
But Jonah heard the barest tremble in her words and caught the way her fingers shook as she stroked Scout’s golden fur. A whirlwind of emotions twisted his insides like a hurricane. Anger that someone had laid hands on her, horror at the brutal nature of the attack, worry for her well-being, and a deep need to comfort her. Overlaying all of that was the realization that while he’d been griping about attending a friend’s birthday party, she’d been in a fight for her life.
He’d nearly lost her.
It was a terrifying thought, one that could cripple him if he let it. So Jonah shoved all of those fears, worries, and thoughts aside. Laney needed his skills as a Texas Ranger.
The rest…they’d deal with that later.
“Walk me through what happened,” Jonah said.
She straightened, chin lifting. “At 9:15, the main lodge received a call from a concerned camper who reported hearing fireworks coming from Campsite 8. I was doing a final patrol with Scout and was alerted to the complaint at 9:16. I arrived at the campsite fifteen minutes later, at 9:29.” She gestured to her truck, buried behind a wall of patrol cars and the coroner’s van. “I parked there. Scout stayed in the vehicle.”
Jonah knew the golden Labrador had a sensitivity to loud noises, especially anything that resembled gunfire or flashbangs, so it wasn’t surprising Laney left her behind. He followed his best friend onto the footpath, carefully stepping where she didalong a predetermined route. Forensic technicians would comb the entire area for evidence.
A sheriff’s deputy stood guard outside another barrier of yellow tape designating the primary scene. He held a clipboard, and Jonah gave his name and rank for the record, which the man scribbled down. His expression was grim. “Ranger Foster, we don’t know each other, but I’ve heard of you through the grapevine. Lots of people were talking after that school shooting last year. They say you’re one of the best. This investigation might not get the same news attention as that one did, but I hope you’ll take it just as seriously.” An angry glint shimmered in the deputy’s eyes. “Whoever did this needs to be punished.”
The sheer rage pouring from the deputy caught Jonah off-guard. Kirkland County was small, and murder was heinous, but this level of emotion was out of the ordinary. First the suspicion of the deputy near the vehicles and now a lecture from…he checked the man’s badge…Deputy Martinez.
“I can assure you, Deputy Martinez, I take all my cases seriously, no matter the victim or the level of media coverage. I’ll do everything in my power to catch the perpetrator responsible.”
He meant every word. Growing up as the overlooked middle child in a family of overachievers—Olympic athletes, doctors, business moguls—Jonah had spent most of his life feeling like he didn't measure up. He'd been aimless through most of college until a criminal justice class changed everything. The professor had been a retired detective who didn't lecture about glory or headlines. Instead, he talked about the family who finally got answers after years of wondering what happened to their daughter and the father who could sleep again knowing his son's killer was behind bars.
That's when Jonah understood: law enforcement wasn't about chasing money or accolades. It was about helping people in their darkest moments.
Laney had been the first to encourage that choice. She'd shared his passion for service. They'd taken different routes—she went military while he joined the state troopers after graduation—but their core principles were the same. She understood him. Encouraged him. In a way that his family never had. Jonah knew his parents loved him, but to this day, they still couldn’t understand why he’d spend 60 hours a week working for what amounted to a pitiful salary.
The attack on Laney made this case personal. But even if it hadn’t been, Jonah would give it his all.
The deputy held his gaze for a moment, as if sizing him up, and then nodded. “We’ll assist in any way we can.”
“Thank you, Deputy.”
Jonah ducked under the crime scene tape and joined Laney at the edge of the clearing. The faintest whiff sun-dried cotton and something clean—like unscented soap and summer air—teased his nose. Laney was careful to avoid fragrant perfumes or body washes, anything that would attract bugs. The result was a freshness that was entirely her.
Unable to resist the urge to touch her, to confirm that she was there, whole and safe, he reached up and detangled the pine needle from her hair. Her dark strands were silky soft against his fingertips. Just a brief touch, but it caused his heart to skip a beat. The reaction was so familiar, Jonah often purposefully tuned it out. This time he couldn’t. Maybe it was more noticeable because an hour ago Denise had touched him and he’d felt nothing. Or maybe it was learning about the close call Laney suffered. Either way, the attraction caused a pang of longing in his chest.
He and Laney had dated briefly in college, but they'd been better as friends than a couple. Fifteen years later, he was grateful for that friendship, even if moments like this remindedhim that his feelings had never been quite as platonic as he pretended.
Laney glanced at him, and her lips curved into a soft smile before she ran her own fingers through her hair. “Thanks.”
Jonah let the pine needle drift to the ground. “Mind telling me why the sheriff’s deputies are on edge?”
Her smile faded as her features hardened. “One of the victims is the sheriff’s niece.”
That news was another gut-punch. Just when he thought this case couldn’t get worse, it did.
“Sheriff Morrison has recused himself from the investigation,” Laney continued. “He only has a handful of deputies, none of whom have the investigative experience to work this kind of case. That’s why I called you.” She squared her shoulders. “Ready to walk through it?”
He nodded, bracing himself for what was to come.
“When I arrived at the campsite, it was empty. No one answered when I called out. There was a fire in the pit and s’mores ingredients out, so I knew they hadn’t gone far. A brief search led me to the first victim.” She led Jonah across the clearing to the other side of a large tent. A young male lay on the ground, blood staining his shirt. A coroner’s technician was taking photographs. “Tyler Chen, 21 years old and a student at the local university. Majoring in computer science. Shot twice in the back.”
