Page 27 of Lone Star Wanted
“Appreciate it,” Kincade said.
“Also, I pulled Marlene Lang’s phone records,” Jericho went on. “Took a little creativity since she’s not flagged as a person of interest, yet, but I got what I needed.”
Cassidy leaned in, alert. “And?”
“There are multiple texts from burner numbers over the last few days,” Jericho continued. “Untraceable, but the timestamps line up with what she told you. First message came in the night her mom supposedly disappeared. Then more follow-ups, short and vague. Most recent one was that cryptic ‘she’ll be released soon’ message.”
Kincade glanced at Cassidy.
Jericho’s voice came back through, drier now. “Of course… there’s always the chance she’s sending them to herself.”
Cassidy’s brow lifted, but Kincade didn’t flinch. He’d briefed Jericho last night, told him about the trash can, Marlene’s steady demeanor, and the way she never quite looked panicked enough.
The theory didn’t surprise him.
“She’s either following orders,” Jericho went on, “or she’s staging a hell of a performance.”
“She’s still a suspect,” Kincade added. “Until proven otherwise.”
“Agreed.” There was a pause on the line before Jericho spoke again, his tone shifting. “I had the tech team do a deepdive on Marlene, too. Wanted to know who we’re really dealing with.”
Kincade leaned forward slightly, his attention sharpening. Cassidy did the same, her mug forgotten in her hands.
“Marlene’s had a rough history with her mother,” Jericho continued. “There’s no official record of abuse, but plenty of indicators. Marlene left home at seventeen. Lived with an aunt for a while, then did a short stint in the Army before getting out and becoming a cop. She and her mom didn’t talk much, not until a couple of years ago when her mother had some health scares. Even then, it seems to be more obligation than affection.”
Kincade let that settle, the pieces clicking into place. “So if her mother really was taken, Marlene wouldn’t exactly fall apart over it.”
“Right,” Jericho agreed. “She’s not cold, just… detached.”
Cassidy frowned, her voice quiet. “Or she’s not detached. She’s involved.”
Kincade made a quick sound of agreement. “It’s possible. If Marlene’s the one orchestrating all of this, she could be using the idea of her mother’s abduction as cover. Playing the victim so no one believes she’s guilty.”
“Exactly,” Jericho said. “We can’t rule her out.” There was a soft rustle on the other end of the line before Jericho spoke again. “One more thing. I got an update from the fire team Ruby sent in. Thought you’d want to hear it.”
Kincade straightened. “Go on.”
“They confirmed it was arson. No surprise there. Accelerant was used in multiple places throughout the house. But here’s the thing. None of it was poured in the part of the house where you said you were.”
Cassidy’s head whipped up. That had clearly gotten her attention. It’d gotten Kincade’s, too.
“Could have been an oversight,” Jericho speculated. “Maybe the guy thought the fire would spread better than it did. Or maybe they didn’t want to risk killing you. Not right away.”
Kincade stared at the floor, gears turning. “So I wasn’t supposed to die in that fire,” he said.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Jericho replied. “The accelerant was only near the back hallway and in the kitchen. Nothing near the room where you were. It’s like they wanted it to smoke you out, or incapacitate you but not burn you alive.”
Cassidy gave him a look, uneasy. “Or trap you long enough for someone to finish the job once you got outside.”
Kincade nodded slowly. That scenario felt a little too possible. The gunshots, the chaos, Marlene running. Maybe that was the plan all along. Create a distraction, divide them, make someone vulnerable.
“We’ll be at the drive-in in about forty minutes,” Kincade told Jericho. He stood, grabbing his empty plate.
“That’s almost an hour ahead of schedule,” Jericho replied. “Good. Gives us room to work. I’m on my way now.”
Yeah, Kincade wanted that room to work, time to assess the location. “See you there,” he added, and the line clicked off.
He set his plate in the sink as Cassidy finished the last of her coffee. They moved around the kitchen quietly, with the rhythm between them seeming sort of natural. Well, natural with a crackle of lust and concern tossed in. He grabbed the dishtowel while she stacked plates. It wasn’t much, but it felt normal for a moment.
