Read Online You're Not Safe (Texas Rangers) by Mary Burton - Free Book Online

violated his parole. Long story short, the boyfriend was back in jail for another decade.
    “Sandy,” Bragg said.
    “Ranger Bragg.” A broad smile brightened tired eyes. “Good to see you.”
    “You too. My nephew’s with me, and we’re looking to eat. What’s the wait?”
    She picked up two menus. Her smile turned sly. “Your reservation was for six-thirty, and I’ve your table right over here.”
    He grinned. “Thanks.”
    She led them to a table in the back, seated them, and handed them menus. “Your waitress will be right up.”
    “Appreciate it, Sandy.”
    She tossed an admiring glance at Mitch and then smiled at Bragg. “No problem.”
    Mitch met her gaze. “Thanks.”
    Her grin broadened, and she returned back to her station crowded with waiting families.
    Bragg scanned the menu. “The T-bone is good. Bread is great. It’s all good. Order whatever you want.”
    He nodded. “T-bone sounds good.”
    “Sure there isn’t something else you might want? Don’t order it on my account.” He wanted to fix the pain the kid carried, but didn’t know how. Best he could do now was offer him a great meal.
    “T-bone is fine.”
    Bragg resisted the urge to challenge and when the waitress came to the table he ordered two steaks with all the fixings plus bread. He waited until she returned with their soda order before asking, “How’d your day go?”
    Mitch sipped on his soda straw. “Good.”
    “What’s good mean?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.
    After a moment’s silence, he said, “Got offered a job today.”
    That tiny bit of news had him sitting straighter and leaning forward. However, he did his best to curb his enthusiasm and the rapid-fire questions begging to be asked. “That so? What’s the job?”
    Before he could answer the waitress appeared with hot rolls and butter. More hungry for information than the bread, he waited as the boy tore into his bread and took a couple of bites.
    Finally, Mitch said, “I’m not really sure. Farmhand, I think.”
    “Farmhand.” It was a hard road to hoe working the land. He wanted his nephew to get an education and have the world open up to him. But that was the big picture. Right now he simply wanted the kid to talk, engage in life. Farmhand would suit fine.
    “You know about farms. Mom said Grandpa had you riding a tractor at eight.”
    “Yeah. I know farms and ranches. Tough work but there’s a sense of satisfaction at the end of the day.”
    Mitch grunted.
    “You’ll be working the fields, managing a barn, what?”
    “Don’t know. She just said to show up tomorrow at nine, and she’d put me to work.”
    He wanted to know who was hiring Mitch and what plans this woman had for him. But he reminded himself Mitch wasn’t a kid, and if he babied him it likely would ruin what little they’d gained tonight. “How’d she hear about you?”
    “Remember that support group I tried a couple of times?”
    “Yeah.”
    “She knows the guy that runs it. Said she owed him a favor.”
    “And you’re the favor?” The lack of details fueled his frustration, but he kept it to himself.
    “I guess.” Mitch tore more bread and ate it.
    “You know where the farm is?”
    He pulled a card from his pocket and tossed it on the table. “She said it’s about thirty miles west of Austin. Some kind of vineyard.”
    Bragg picked up the card. “Vineyard?”
    He glanced at the vineyard’s name: BONNEVILLE VINEYARDS. Rory Edward’s crime scene had been located on the edge of a vineyard. His gaze slid to the name of the woman who’d contacted Mitch: GREER TEMPLETON .
    For a moment the sounds of the restaurant faded away, and there was only the thump, thump of his heart in his ears. His first thought was for Elizabeth Templeton, the woman in the picture. Templeton wasn’t a common name, but not so uncommon that he didn’t suspect a connection. The hair on the back of his neck rose.
    Bragg kept his voice steady. “You know any facts about Greer