By all appearances, Sara Wentworth was an ambitious woman with her sights set on the future. She had no apparent reason to track a drug-addicted man from her past, kill him, and then herself. Sure, it could have happened. Rory could have sent her the doll and triggered a deadly chain reaction.

It could have been a murder-suicide scenario; however, if he had to bet money, he’d wager someone else had murdered them both.

Bragg arrived at the real estate office of Manly and Dobbs a half hour later. Located in the center of Austin blocks from the white dome of the state capitol, the building had lots of glass, a sleek sign out front, and manicured planters with lush green plants.

He pushed through the office door and a young, blond receptionist glanced up at him with a bright smile on her face. The instant she saw his white hat and star badge the smile vanished. He wasn’t a customer. And he was here about Sara.

She rose. “Ranger. You’ve come about Sara?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She flipped her hair out of her eyes. “We are all in shock about it. No one can believe Sara would kill herself. Her life was perfect.”

“She didn’t give you any indication that she wasn’t doing well?”

“Nothing. She was a happy woman.”

Smiles could hide a lot of pain and everyone had secrets. “There someone here that kept up with her appointments?”

“All our agents are independent. They use the office primarily for mail and the occasional meeting. Often, I’d not see Sara for days or weeks. She was in her car most of the time. But I can buzz Rita Herbert. She’s our office manager, and if Sara had been in touch with anyone it would have been Rita.”

“Appreciate it.”

When she vanished down the hallway, he waited in the lobby studying the glossy pictures of high-end properties in the Austin area. Manly and Dobbs handled the best clients, which fit with Sara’s profile.

Greer and Sara had come from the same privileged world and ended up at Shady Grove. But Shady Grove had been a fork in the road. Sara had returned to her old, sheltered world, whereas Greer had upended herself and built a life the opposite of her roots. She’d traded beauty salons, manicures, and high-end clothes for jeans, hard work, and a vineyard that likely took as much as it gave. This reinvented Greer fascinated him to no end.

“Ranger Bragg?”

He turned to find a tall brunette studying him. She wore conservative dark pants, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a matching jacket that skimmed full hips. Horn-rimmed glasses accentuated large blue eyes heavily made up. Gold hoop earrings matched a gold rope necklace that dangled below full breasts.

He extended his hand, and she moved to meet it easily as if she’d shaken millions of hands in this office. “Ms. Herbert?”

“Yes. I’m Rita Herbert, the office manager.” Her thick brows drew together. “I hear you’ve questions about Sara.”

“I’m trying to piece together her last day or two. I was hoping you might have an idea about some of the clients she met with that last day.”

With manicured fingers, she combed away a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t understand. Why do you need her client list? I thought Sara killed herself.”

No sense triggering alarm bells. For now he wanted answers. “It’s standard to examine the deceased’s last days.”

She sighed. “I still can’t believe it. Sara was our best agent. She had just sealed the deal and made a six-figure commission. She was at the top of her game.”

“What kinds of property did she sell?”

“Some high-end residential but for the most part she handled the corporate sales. Her family has been in Austin for fifty years, and they had all kinds of connections. She used those connections to get her start. But she quickly proved to everyone she was more than just a rich girl. She was talented in sales and worked harder than anybody.”

“Did you keep track of her appointments?”

“No. She kept her own book. She did call in on Tuesday asking about a missing business card. She sounded rattled and upset.”

He thought about the trash-can discovery. “She say what was bothering her?”

“I asked but she laughed it off. Said she was a little forgetful these days.” She dug a card from her pocket. “This is the card she wanted. I still had it on my desk.”

He accepted it. “She have anything to say about the client?”

“Only that he owned restaurants back East and had his eye on Austin.”

He glanced at the card. Howard Corwin. From Washington, D.C. His chain was called Legends. “Have you contacted him since Sara’s death?”

“No. We’ve all been a mess since we heard the news. Sara really was the backbone of corporate sales.”

He glanced at the number. “Where’d they have coffee last week?”

“I don’t know.”

“May I keep this?”

“Sure.”

“Any more details you can share about him?”

“Why are you interested in this guy? Do you think he is connected to her death?”

“I don’t have solid facts at this point, ma’am. I need to follow every rabbit trail I come across.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“Yes, ma’am. If you think of any new details that strike you as odd about this guy or any of her other clients, let me know.”

She frowned. “Sure.”

He thanked her again for her time and promised to be in touch. As soon as he slid behind the wheel of his car and turned on the engine, he dialed Corwin’s number.

The phone rang several times and then a male voice-mail message said: “You’ve reached Howard Corwin of Corwin Enterprises. I’m traveling this week so leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.”

Bragg hung up and stared at the card. Anyone could make a card. But fooling a seasoned real estate agent like Sara Wentworth would take more than a bogus number. He flipped on his computer and searched Corwin Enterprises. A second or two later he had a Baltimore number that did not match the number on the card. Stood to reason Corwin’s direct line wouldn’t match the Web site number. Still, he dialed the Web site number.

As the phone rang, he pulled off his hat and tossed it on the passenger seat. On the second ring a receptionist answered the phone. “Corwin Enterprises.”

Bragg introduced himself and explained he needed to speak to Corwin. She put him on hold and ten seconds later, he heard, “This is Howard Corwin.”

“Lieutenant Bragg, Texas Rangers in Austin, Texas, sir. I’d like to ask you about your recent meeting with Sara Wentworth.”

Silence crackled over the line. “I don’t know a Sara Wentworth.”

Bragg glanced at the card in his hand. “Sara Wentworth is a real estate agent here in Austin. According to her office manager you met with Sara two days ago in Austin about restaurant property.”

“Ranger Bragg, I’ve not been to Austin in fifteen years. And two days ago I was working in my office here in Baltimore. A hundred people can verify that. I’m not sure why Ms. Wentworth is claiming we met.”

“I’ve a copy of your business card that her office manager gave me. Got your name on it.” He repeated the phone number.

“Not my number, Ranger. Whoever this woman met with, it was not me.”

Bragg flicked the edge of the card with his index finger. The guy sounded genuinely surprised, though Bragg would do a full background check, and he would verify his alibi.

“So why do you think the office manager at an Austin real estate firm had your card?”

“You might have a card that looks like mine, but I wasn’t in Austin. Like I said, I was in the Baltimore office holding a planning meeting. It lasted from eight in the morning to at least seven in the evening. What does Ms. Wentworth want? Is she making some kind of claim against me?”

Bragg tucked the card in his pocket. “Ms. Wentworth is dead, Mr. Corwin. We found her body yesterday. She’d been locked in a freezer and she died of exposure.”