Texas Outlaw (Rory Yates #2) - James Patterson Page 0,42

with the guy.

“Either you start cooperating,” Harris says to me, “or I’ll call your lieutenant and tell him you’re out of line. I’ll request a different Ranger.”

I’m burning mad, and I can’t stop myself from directing my frustration over the case toward the chief.

“You want to be kept in the loop?” I say. “Here’s the loop. Before Susan Snyder died, she made two phone calls. One was to Tom Aaron telling him that she had a big story for him—and not to trust anyone. The second was to Ariana.” I gesture toward her. “Susan told Ariana the same thing. Only she gave a specific name of who not to trust. Can you guess who that person is?”

Harris looks around, hyperaware of all of his employees staring at us.

“In my office,” he says, his voice simmering. “Now.”

Ariana and I follow him inside. None of us sits. But as he paces behind his desk, his anger seems to deflate by the second.

“Is that true?” Harris says to Ariana. “She said not to trust me?”

“She said she wasn’t sure if you could be trusted,” Ariana admits. “That’s why I pushed so hard to bring in the Rangers.”

Harris’s office is as sparse as Tom Aaron’s was disorganized. A Texas state flag hangs on one wall, and a mule deer mount flanked by two good-sized trout mounts decorates the wall space above his chair. A framed photo of George H. W. Bush rests on the desk.

“I’ll be honest with you,” Harris says. “Susan and I dated when I first got to town. Not really dated. Just, you know, hooked up.”

I don’t say anything, but what I’m thinking is that after debunking one person of interest’s story about sleeping with Susan Snyder, it’s unlikely that the chief’s would hold up any better under scrutiny.

“Susan didn’t want people to know,” Harris says. “Neither did I. We thought it might give the appearance of a conflict of interest, especially later when I became chief.”

“You said this was when you first got to town,” Ariana says. “You weren’t chief yet.”

“I was thinking of my future,” he says. “Chief Múñez was nearing retirement.” He locks eyes with Ariana. “And if you’re thinking I had one vote in my pocket when we were both up for the job, you’re wrong. Kirk Schuetz told me that Susan Snyder wanted you for the job. She only ended up voting their way to keep it unanimous, show unified public support for the new chief.”

“So there was bad blood between you?” I say.

“No,” Harris says emphatically. “Susan was objective. Rational. She thought Ariana was the better candidate. Let’s be honest: those other four were never going to vote for a woman to be police chief.”

He looks at Ariana, his expression pleading and—to my eyes—honest.

“We work well together,” he says to Ariana. “I respect you. I think you respect me. When I became chief, you might not have liked it, but you behaved professionally, and I never rubbed my success in your face.”

I can relate to what Ariana went through, seeing her peer promoted to her boss. From what I can tell, Harris and Ariana have handled their situation better than my lieutenant and I have.

“We did work well together,” Ariana says. “Until you refused to investigate Susan Snyder’s death.”

“Put yourself in my shoes,” he says. “I didn’t know about these phone calls Susan made. Now I understand.”

The tension in the room seems to be subsiding.

“Keep investigating,” he says. “I give you free rein.”

I know why he’s changing his tune, and it’s not to find justice for Susan Snyder. He knows that one phone call is all it would take to bring in our Public Corruption Unit. No one, no matter how innocent, wants that kind of scrutiny.

“Keep digging,” he says to me. “I want my name cleared of any suspicion.”

Chapter 47

WE GRAB A couple of deli sandwiches and head out of town. I tell Ariana I’m sorry I revealed her secret to Harris.

“It’s okay,” she says. “We all needed to get that off our chests.”

We drive south into hillier country. Ariana directs me onto a gravel road. Unlike the one to McCormack’s ranch, this one is strewn with rocks the size of basketballs and potholes twice that big. As I navigate, I’m glad I purchased a new spare tire.

The road cuts into a ridge, with rocky outcroppings above and a steep slope below us. At the bottom of the ravine is a creek bed overgrown with brush. Up ahead, two mule deer spring from hiding