Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go (Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy Book 3) (20 page)

“Might as well. Rayann’s getting her nails done after work,
so she won’t be home for a while. I’ll text her and let her know I’m with you.”

“You’d better keep her informed of your whereabouts, or
she’ll have me tailing you again,” Jinx said.

“Amen,” Ridge said. “More importantly, you don’t want to get
Tizzy and Synola on your ass.”

Finally feeling like he might be on the right trail, Ridge
turned onto Palace Avenue and drove past the address. Only eight houses on the
street. An old neighborhood, the tax website listed the Pruett house, circa
1945. Along with it, most of the other structures were wooden, a few updated
with siding. Small front lawns with plenty of trees. “What do you think?”

“There’s a for sale sign in the yard. No car in sight. No
lights on. Looks vacant,” Bubba said.

Ridge swung the car around in a U-turn, drove to the house,
and parked in the driveway. “I’ll check. Cover the back and I’ll take the
front.”

Bubba disappeared around the house.

At the front door, Ridge knocked and listened. He gave three
more solid raps. Still no response. He made his way to the back and joined
Bubba.

“Let’s check with the neighbors,” Ridge said, and crossed
the lawn to the next house. Bubba followed.

Before he knocked, the door opened and a withered old lady
with tight, silver curls, gazed up at him through thick glasses. “Can I help
you?”

From a back room a voice boomed. “VERA! I TOLD YOU DON’T BE
OPENING THE DOOR TO NO STRANGERS.” The man, stooped at the waist and holding
onto a walker, shuffled into the room.

“I’m Texas Ranger Ridge Cooper, sir, and this is Brownsboro
Police Officer Dwayne Tatum. I’m interested in the former residents of the
house next door. The Pruetts?”

Vera made space and the old man moved forward. He lifted his
head to look the ranger in the eye. “Been gone awhile. Don’t know where. Them
boys used to hang out on Gentry Street where the day workers gather. They
didn’t kill nobody did they?”

“Why do you ask, sir?”

“They’s always gettin’ into trouble. At least one of 'em
was, but them being identical, I never knew which one.”

Ridge’s pulse jumped. Identical twins. “You have any idea
where the mother or father might work?”

The old man moved his false teeth around in his mouth, then
drew his lips tight. “Never was no daddy in the picture. He’s in the big house.
The momma used to waitress at some fish place.”

“Uh-huh.” Ridge nodded. “How long did they live there?”

“They rented the place three, four years ago. Don’t remember
for sure. You might check with the landlord, Thomas Sparks. He might know
something.”

Ridge furrowed his brow. “Sparks? You have an address for
him?”

The old man poked his wife and she spoke. “He’s in the phone
book.”

Ridge wrote the name in his spiral. “Well, thank you for
your time, Mister—I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Raymond Youngblood.”

“Thank you, Mr. Youngblood. I appreciate your time.” Ridge
smiled and returned to the car.

Bubba opened his door and stared at Ridge. “Thomas Sparks.
Why does that name sound familiar?”

Resting his arms on the top of the cruiser, Ridge faced
Bubba. “Because that’s the name of Rita’s new internet boyfriend.”

Ridge jerked the car into reverse and spun out, a man on a
mission. This wasn’t the way he intended on meeting Rita’s new love interest,
but he didn’t want to postpone it. Maybe the connection to the boys wasn’t a
coincidence. Stranger things happened. Men died with bows on their dicks. Women
started stupid-ass cults. Birds sang Willie Nelson songs. He couldn’t help but
laugh. I should be writing a book about this case.

“What now?” Bubba asked.

For a minute, Ridge forgot anybody was in the car with him.
He dreaded telling Rita about Sparks after seeing the way her face lit up at
the mention of his name. “We’re going to visit Rita’s boyfriend and find out
his connection to the case. And, if he’s been using her to get information.”

Bubba pulled out his phone and entered a search. “He’s
employed at the water department. We should check there first. It’s not
quitting time yet, so he’s still at work. It’s on Locust Street.” Bubba glanced
at his phone. “He lives at 214 Magnolia.”

Ridge drove through an open chain link gate and parked near
the entrance of Tyler Water Utilities Office. When he and Bubba entered, a
perky blonde greeted them from behind the counter.

“May I help you?” Perky asked.

“Texas Ranger Ridge Cooper and Officer Dwayne Tatum to see
Thomas Sparks.”

“Just a moment,” she said, and picked up the phone. “Mr.
Sparks, there are two officers here to see you.” She listened, then smiled.
“He’ll be right out.”

A door to her left opened and a gray-haired man too short
and paunchy to be a French model stepped to meet the pair. He eyed the logo on
Bubba’s uniform. “Is there something wrong with Rita?”

Ridge detected panic in his voice. After introductions,
Ridge asked, “Do you have a place we can talk in private?”

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Once inside his office, Ridge and Bubba sat in two leather
chairs opposite Sparks. “You’re making me nervous. Does this involve Rita?”

“No. Not Rita. I understand you own a house on Palace Avenue
and until a few weeks ago a woman and her two sons lived there. Is that
correct?” Ridge asked.

“It’s one of several I own. What does that have to do with
anything?”

Ridge leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. “I’m
investigating a case, and the boys are persons of interest. What’s your
connection to them?”

Sparks took a deep breath. “No connection. They rented the
house for several years, but they moved out a while ago. Didn’t even give
notice. Didn’t pay the last month’s rent either. Plus, they left the house in
shambles.”

Ridge locked his eyes on him in a game of ‘who’ll blink
first.’ He hadn’t decided if he believed the guy or not. Sparks blinked. Right.
Ridge continued. “You have no personal connection with the family?”

“No.”

“You’re just the landlord?”

Sparks nodded. “Right.”

Ridge looked up from making notes. “And you never spent time
with them socially?”

“Never.” Sparks ran a hand across his jaw “What have those
boys done?”

Sparks’ sudden interest in the crime caused Ridge to
stiffen. “Your concern tells me they were more than renters, correct?”

“Yes—no—I mean. Hell.” He sucked another deep breath. “It’s
not what you think.”

“Tell me what I think.”

“That I’m connected to whatever they’ve done. But I’m not.”
Sparks rocked back in his chair. “Years ago, when my sons were younger and
their mother and I were still together, she joined a twins club. They’d have
garage sales and play dates together. Susan Pruett was also a member. A few
years back, she fell on hard times and remembered I had rental property. Susan
contacted me about a house. The only time I ever saw her was when she came to
pay her rent. Sometimes one of the boys brought it, but not often.”

“I find it interesting a friend of your family might be
involved in a crime, and you’ve started dating a member of the police
department where I’m conducting my investigation.”

“Now hold on a minute.” Sparks clenched his jaw and leaned
forward. “When I met Rita, I had no idea she worked in law enforcement. That
type of information isn’t listed on your dating profile and you’re assigned a
number. No one uses names. If you’re insinuating I’m seeing her to get
information, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

Ridge pursed his lips. “Interesting choice of words.”

Sparks stood. “Do I need a lawyer? Because it sure feels
like I’m being accused of something.”

“You tell me,” Ridge said.

“Give me a lie detector test. I’ve known the boys and their
mother a long time, but other than soccer games when they were young and
renting them a house, I had nothing to do with them.”

Ridge glared at the man and added steel to his voice. “Sit,
Mr. Sparks. I’m not done with my questions.”

Sparks sat. The blood vessels in his neck popped out, and
his pink cheeks reddened.

“The next door neighbor on Palace told me the boys hung out
on Gentry for day labor. Do you know if that’s true?”

“No.”

“Any idea where their mother works?”

Sparks shrugged. “Last I heard she was waitressing at Red
Lobster out on the loop.”

“Did you ever date her?”

“Hell no!” Now Spark’s cheeks flamed and Ridge waited for
more protest, but the man didn’t speak, so he moved to the next question. “Were
you acquainted with Jay Roy Hobbs?”

“No. Who is he?”

“Ever live in Brownsboro?” Ridge barked.

“No.” Sparks eyes went wide and his voice went up an octave.
“Shit! I read that article in the paper. You think the boys murdered that Hobbs
man and I’m involved? Crap. It’s not true.”

“Your ex-wife? She know Jay Roy Hobbs?”

Sparks wagged his head. “I’m not answering another question
until you answer mine. Do you think I’m involved in a murder?”

Ridge drummed his pen on the arm of the chair and debated
how much he should tell the man. His offer to take a lie detector test
indicated he wasn’t hiding anything. But Ridge didn’t want to say too much
until he decided the guy didn’t have any personal connection to the suspects or
the case. “That’s why we’re having this conversation, Mr. Sparks. So again, did
your wife know him?”

Sparks shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“You have any relatives in Brownsboro?”

“Again, no, and I never met the Hobbs man.”

Ridge pushed his hat back. “One last thing. Have you ever
dated anybody from Brownsboro other than Rita?”

“No, Ranger Cooper, I have not.”

“Well, that’s it for now. I appreciate your cooperation.”
Ridge and Bubba stood at the same time. Ridge started to go, then spun back to
face Sparks. “One more thing. Rita means a lot to me. You hurt her”—he glared
at Sparks—“you’ll answer to me.”

Back in the car, Ridge caught Bubba’s gaze. “What?”

“You were kinda tough on him. I thought he might pass out at
one point.”

“Well, Rita’s crazy over him and I wanted to make damn sure
he’s not using her.”

“So you believe him?”

“Yeah, until something gives me a reason otherwise.”

Bubba’s phone chimed. “It’s Rayann. She’s done at the nail
salon. How much longer are we going to be?”

“Tell her after we stop by the restaurant to check the
Pruett woman out, we’ll be home. Probably another hour.”

At Red Lobster, Ridge found a parking space close to the
back of the building and spotted a rusty F-150 pickup truck parked in the rear.
He checked the plates against his notes. “Looks like we found the truck,” he said.

He and Bubba got out of the cruiser and headed toward the
vehicle. Ridge edged to the driver’s door and peered in through the window.
“Get my iPad from the car and take a couple of pictures while I text to get it
towed and a warrant started.”

Bubba went to the cruiser and came back with the tablet and
snapped views of the front and back of the pickup.

“What are you doing at my truck?”

The two men pivoted to face a fifty-something woman in a
brown shirt tucked into khaki pants. She pulled a cigarette from her pocket and
lit up, cupping her hands around the flame to ward off the breeze ruffling her
long brown hair.

“Are you Susan Pruett?”

She sucked a long drag, tilted her head back and blew smoke
into the air. “Yeah. What’s going on?”

“This truck is connected to an investigation. I’m going to
impound it. You can claim it in Brownsboro at the police station when we’re
done with it. Where are your sons, ma’am?”

She flicked ashes onto the ground. “How the hell will I get
home?”

“Not my problem. Now, again, where are your boys?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I need to question them and it’ll go easier on them if
you’d tell me where they are.”

“I don’t have a clue where they’re staying, but it ain’t
with me. What kind of trouble are they in?”

Ridge considered keeping the information to himself, but
decided if she knew where they were, she might try to warn them and he could
have her tailed. “Murder investigation.”

Her jaw dropped. “What! No way. My boys may not be saints,
but they’d never have anything to do with murder.”

“Ma’am, I just want to question them, so where are they?”

She dropped the cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out
with her shoe. “Honest, I don’t know. I’m staying with a friend. The boys had
to find their own place.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to
work.”

Ridge took a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “If
you hear from Justin or Jackson, I expect you to call me, or bring them to the
PD in Brownsboro. You understand?”

She stuck the card in her pocket. “Got it.”

As she walked away, Ridge spoke to Bubba. “Call Rayann and
tell her we’re going to be late. We need to wait here for the tow truck and
Earl Dean’s going to send someone to stakeout this place and follow her. My gut
tells me she knows where those boys are.”

Ridge, Bubba, and Earl Dean watched the tow truck load the
pickup and haul it away. At times like this Ridge wished he’d become a game
warden. They got verbal warrants when it came to crimes involving wildlife. He
could have ripped the truck apart and searched every inch of any property they
owned without waiting. He shouldn’t complain. With modern technology, he’d have
a warrant by morning.

He faced Earl Dean. “I didn’t expect you to take this tail
and nail.”

“A little field work won’t hurt me, especially following a
waitress in place of a hardened criminal. I figure she’s called or texted those
boys by now. If they were staying with her, they’re long gone. But I’ll find
out where she goes and we can stakeout the place for a few days to see if they
show up there.”