Ranger Courage

our Jane Doe is Debra Channing. Twenty-three years old. Never arrested. Single. No children. Originally from Phoenix.”
He opened the folder and pulled out a photograph of Debra, taken from her Arizona driver’s license record. The young woman smiled shyly into the camera. She’d looked so young and hopeful. It was heartbreaking to realize that less than a year after the photo was taken, Debra had been brutally murdered.
Avery took it from him, studying the image carefully. “No one in Arizona has reported her missing?”
“No. Phoenix PD sent an officer to the address on her driver’s license. The house is owned by Robert and Joy Channing. A neighbor explained the Channings were out of town on an anniversary cruise. He was able to confirm that Debra is their daughter. She moved to Texas about nine months ago.”
“That corresponds with my records,” Avery said. “Debra started working for the university about seven months ago. Robert Channing is listed as her emergency contact.”
“I’m working on getting a search warrant for her rental house. We’re also trying to locate the Channings for notification.”
Avery winced. Weston shared the sentiment. The Channings were coming back from their happy vacation to the horrible news that their daughter had been murdered. Weston wasn’t able to go back in time and stop her death, but he could get justice. He wouldn’t stop until Debra’s killer was behind bars.
“Okay.” Avery handed the photograph back to him and circled the desk. “Let’s see what Debra’s manager has to say.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jorge Garcia. I’m familiar with him, because he cleans our department as well as the other administrative offices. Nice guy, and I believe we can count on him to be discreet. Still, I don’t want to tell him she’s dead, since we haven’t notified the family yet.”
“Agreed.”
Finding out their daughter was murdered would be awful no matter what, but Weston didn’t want the Channings discovering the information through news reports. They deserved better than that.
They found Jorge in the basement of the administrative buildings, organizing a supply room. Mid-fifties and heavyset, he sported a full beard, which contrasted sharply with his shaved head. Bleach stains spotted his blue coveralls.
“What can I do for you, Chief Madison?” Jorge’s gaze jumped to Weston and then back to Avery.
“I need to speak to you regarding Debra Channing,” Avery said. “When’s the last time you saw or talked to her?”
“On Thursday evening.” Before they could answer, Jorge stiffened. “It’s her boyfriend, isn’t it? Listen, I’m not just her boss. Debra is my goddaughter. If something has happened to her…” He inhaled sharply. “You wouldn’t be here if she was okay. I heard about the murder on campus from the news, but…please, don’t tell me it’s Debra—”
He started to tip over. Weston grasped the older man’s arm and directed him into a chair. Jorge sagged, like a balloon with the air let out. Avery went to the nearby water cooler and filled a cup. She handed it to Jorge. The man’s hand was shaking so badly, some of the liquid spilled out and spattered his pants. He emptied the cup.
“Take a few deep breaths,” Weston ordered. He didn’t want Jorge passing out or going into shock. “I need you to answer my questions. It’s important. Who is Debra’s boyfriend?”
“His name is Victor Haas. They started dating shortly after he moved here. I knew the man was bad news the moment I laid eyes on him and told her so. But Debra was headstrong. And Victor could be charming when he wanted to be.” He searched Weston’s face. “Debra’s dead, isn’t she?”
“I’m sorry, sir. We can’t say more. Debra’s parents—”
“Are on a cruise. Yes, I know.” He blinked rapidly. “But if Debra was only injured, you would’ve said so.”
Weston’s heart sank. This was a hard aspect of his job—to maintain distance in the face of grief—but he had to focus on the case. “Why do you think Victor is bad news?”
Jorge’s hand tightened around the plastic water cup, crumpling it. “For starters, I suspected he was using drugs. Victor showed up at Debra’s house while I was there. He seemed high. I threatened to call the police and he left. Afterward, I tried talking to Debra about it, but she defended him.”
Beside him, Avery started typing on her cell phone. Probably asking for local police to run Victor through the system.
“Was there anything else?” Weston asked.
“Yeah. He was abusing her. She came over to our house for dinner one night and my wife spotted bruises on her arm. It’s not the first abusive boyfriend Debra’s had. That’s how she ended up in Texas. To get away from the last loser she was dating.” Jorge let out a breath. “We’d hoped working at the university would inspire her to go back to college.”
“You said Thursday was the last time you spoke to Debra,” Avery said. “Was it unusual to go so many days without talking or seeing each other?”
“We normally saw each other when she came to work, but Debra took some time off. She was going to San Antonio to visit a friend and clear her head. She told Victor it was over on Wednesday night. I was there. He took it well, but I should’ve realized …” Pain vibrated through Jorge’s voice. “Victor was never going to let Debra go. I should’ve known what he was capable of.”
Debra had broken up with her abusive boyfriend one day before she’d been murdered. Victor Haas was someone they needed to talk to. Now.
“How do we find him, Jorge?” Weston asked.
“Try the Grimes Hotel Apartments off the interstate. That’s where he was staying.”
Grimes Hotel Apartments was a sleazy establishment off the interstate. It was a pay-as-you-go weekly room rental, a hotbed of criminal activity including drugs. Avery zipped up her jacket against the evening chill. The parking lot smelled of urine. Department of Public Safety patrol vehicles created a barrier around Room 106. Victor’s room.
Weston came out of the hotel office and crossed the parking lot to