Clancey, shaken, went back into her office, without even a wisecrack. That look kept her awake and worried all night long.

FOUR

Clancey hadn’t slept well. She dragged into the office five minutes late and worried that she was going to be in trouble. But when she arrived, Banks still hadn’t come in.

With a sigh of relief, she made a pot of strong coffee. She’d been depressed for days, worrying about Morris getting out early. But she felt lighter today, happier. She couldn’t decide why. Nothing in her life had really changed.

She heard footsteps on the stairs leading down into the office and her heart skipped. She knew it was Banks before he came into view. He took off his Stetson and shot it onto a hook of the coat tree. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Not much, this early. Want coffee?”

“I hope it’s strong,” he said, yawning as he sat down at his desk. “I was called out at 2:00 a.m. to help with a manhunt down near Comanche Wells. Sheriff’s department in Jacobs County asked for aid.”

“Why you?” she wondered as she put a cup of black coffee in its black mug at his fingertips on the desk.

“Because I’m not married and I don’t have kids,” he said, glowering at her. “I’m the only single person in this unit.”

“I’m single,” she pointed out.

“I’m the only single Texas Ranger in this unit,” he corrected. He leaned back with his coffee cup in his hand. “I’m going to end up like old Jack Holliman, holding a shotgun on visitors and hunting my teeth every morning when I try to eat breakfast.”

“End up like who?” she asked, curious.

“He was one of the more famous Rangers of the twentieth century,” he told her. “He lives outside the city.”

“That sounds sad,” she replied.

“I suppose it is. Cash Grier knew him, back when he was a Texas Ranger here.”

“I’ve heard Cal speak of Cash Grier. He said the man is a legend in law enforcement circles.”

Banks chuckled. “He is, but not for being a Texas Ranger.”

She raised both eyebrows.

“Grier was a government assassin, among his other unique professions,” he said, his black eyes twinkling. “Now he’s married and has two kids. They say it’s settled him, but not entirely.”

She laughed softly. “Cal knew him overseas, in Africa.”

His eyebrows arched. “Africa?”

She stopped dead. Only a handful of people knew about Cal’s past. She wasn’t comfortable sharing that with a relative stranger. “He said he did some classified work over there,” she added with a bland smile.

“I see.” He knew about those classified things Hollister had done. Things he couldn’t share with a clerk.

“I’ll get to work,” she said, heading for her own office.

“You make good coffee,” he remarked.