“I’ve never been suspected of murder, but I have lost a close friend to a fugitive. I remember being furious and grief-stricken at the same time.” She stopped at her car and turned to face him. “I’d wanted it all to end and justice to be served. Just like you.”
“I’d like to believe you have compassion and sympathy for all that’s happened.” The lines on his face deepened. “And I hope you aren’t befriending me because you think I’ve had a part in all of this.” He opened her car door. “No need to answer that. You have an investigation to conduct.”
She wanted to assure him of her belief in his innocence, but she could be wrong. An urgency to turn tail and run back to Houston pierced her heart. Vic could finish the investigation; he’d said so. Houston could send Frank to assist him. The two men would work well together.
Last Monday, a new assignment and bringing in Brandt challenged her skills. The idea of a promotion was an added plus. Now she felt inept, and fear threatened to confiscate her ability to peel off layers of lies to find the truth. Fear was not a bad thing unless it overruled sound judgment and made the truth harder to face. And that was what bothered her. She could be wrong about Carr. Very wrong.
Chapter 14
“My wife needs emergency surgery,” Vic said to Bella on Saturday night. He’d phoned while she was en route to Abilene from Ballinger. “She’s being admitted to the hospital on Monday morning. I had a feeling this would happen.” Angst threaded his words. “Been on my mind all week. And I apologize for my lousy attitude.”
“What’s wrong with your wife?”
“Cancer. Stage four.”
How horrible.
“I’m so sorry.” Bella regretted her resentment of Vic. If she’d only known how worry had eaten at him. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Do me a favor and don’t contact the Dallas field office. I have my reasons, and I’ll explain after her surgery is over. I have a responsibility regarding this assignment, and I will do my best to follow through.”
Strange. The Houston office always rallied behind their agents. “Sure.” Bella didn’t look forward to working by herself this week, but she could.
“My question is this: Can you continue working the investigation with the county sheriff’s department until I get back to you? Looks like the county commissioners appointed a good man in Deputy Roano to take Adams’s place.”
“I can. Roano has been helpful, and he can call in the Texas Rangers if necessary.”
“Stall Roano on that aspect. I’ll not be gone too long. A week at the most.”
The Texas Rangers often assisted the county sheriff’s departments. Odd that Vic was against it. “Are you onto something about this case?”
“Hmm. Hard to concentrate on the investigation.”
In his position, she’d be useless. “Okay. Take care. And I hope the doctors are able to put your wife’s cancer in remission.”
“Thanks. But that’s doubtful. Right now I want her pain free. Just keep the information to yourself. Don’t trust Sullivan. I feel in my bones that he’s mixed up in the murders.”
After the call, Bella replayed the conversation. She’d honor Vic’s requests unless his absence was prolonged or she saw the need for more help. What did he see in Carr that she’d missed? To date, Bella had never been wrong in judging a person’s character. And she’d seen nothing in Carr that resembled deceit.
* * *
On Monday, Bella learned the fingerprints on the candy wrapper belonged to Sheriff Darren Adams. She hadn’t yet received the complete workup on Stanton and Mair Warick. But she did learn the boot print found on the High Butte was a size thirteen, and the brand was sold in Walmart. In the afternoon, she attended Adams’s memorial service and sat as far away from Carr as possible. His presence in the church bothered her. The
why
nestled deep inside, but she refused to even consider what the uneasiness meant.
Late afternoon, she received a call stating the fingerprints on Carr’s rifle were his and Jasper’s. Vic’s warning from Saturday evening swept over her like a hot, dry south wind.
Tuesday morning, she received an e-mail with the autopsy results, which revealed Adams had been killed by a recently developed poison called thanatoxin. Her mind spun with what these new findings meant. Darren had been murdered. He’d been onto something the morning of his death. Had he shared any of it with Carr or his deputies?
She immediately phoned Sheriff Roano, who was reading the autopsy report while she spoke with him. His offensive language charged Carr with a fourth murder.
“I suggest sending a team of deputies to sweep his house for traces of the poison,” she said.
“I’m on it. Are you heading there too?”
“You bet. I have a few e-mails and calls to make here at the hotel, and then I’m on my way.”
“Good. I’m not going to allow Sullivan to walk away from these murders.”
Bella drove to the High Butte to question Carr. On the way, she phoned Swartzer with the latest development and asked for information about thanatoxin. Once the call ended, her mind wandered.
Carr had a rugged gentleness about him, certainly something he had acquired since moving from Dallas to his ranch. Her mind lifted and bent, twisted and turned, like a poem that had no ending. A truth about herself and how she felt about Carr took form, and the realization hammered at her heart, as though she’d been tricked into taking the wrong fork in a road. How had he begun to stir her heart? The part of her she kept hidden, protected. Even from herself.
She took a deep breath and remembered the sage advice of the only person she trusted. “Emotions are like scorpions,” Aunt Debbie always said. “If you ignore them, they will sting you when you least expect it. They won’t kill you, but there are times you wish they would.”
Insight surfaced like acid churning in Bella’s stomach. She had broken one of the first rules of good investigative work. A prime suspect had gotten under her skin—and in the worst of ways. She actually liked him, respected him, valued his input, not to mention his incredible eyes. But Carr Sullivan kept sticking his nose into her assignment. Wanted to be a partner of sorts. Always had an opinion.
Great.
The very things she liked about him, she also detested.
Perhaps she should resign from the case because her objectivity had evaporated. In Bella’s opinion, she jeopardized the assignment by having feelings for Carr. She’d never allowed a man to affect her this way, not even Frank. Her heart had betrayed her when she least expected it, just like Aunt Debbie had warned.
Her thoughts moved on to her father and stepmother. For a lot of years, Bella had blamed her father for what happened, and rightfully so. Yet Mair could have stopped the whole thing with one word. Instead, the woman silently condoned the fate of a fifteen-year-old girl. How could Bella consider herself any better than Mair when she had ignored the welfare of her brothers and sister? She’d tossed them aside like a woman who stuffs out-of-date clothing into a donation bag. Why hadn’t she searched deeper for their whereabouts? She owed her siblings an opportunity to better themselves. More importantly, she owed them love.
The report about her father hadn’t arrived, and she needed it—desperately.
At the High Butte, Sheriff Roano and his deputies swarmed the house. Bella found Carr in the privacy of his library, reading his Bible and drinking coffee from a mug with the word
Faith
printed on it. She watched him from the doorway, his face intent on whatever Scripture had captured his attention. Aunt Debbie used to have the same look on her face when she read her Bible.
“Good morning,” she finally said.
He lifted his gaze. New lines had been added to his face. “I figured you’d be here sometime this morning.”
“I should have called.” She pointed to his Bible. “I can wait till you’re finished. But we need to talk about what’s going on downstairs.”
“That’s why I’m here looking for strength and wisdom.” He studied her face. “Darren was poisoned.”
She nodded. “The substance is called thanatoxin—only recently discovered by the CIA—and has its origin in the mountains of Peru. The poison kills its victims within a few hours. No known antidote.”
He gestured for her to sit down. “Roano claims he’ll have the evidence to charge me by midafternoon.”
Will he?
Roano had an issue with stubbornness, but his tenacity might reveal incriminating information. “He questioned you?”
“In a manner of speaking. I’m sure he wanted to use waterboarding. I’ve been reading from Proverbs 6 about what God detests in a man. One of them is pride, and I know I have a tendency to be prideful. So if you have more news, I’ll do my best to handle it with my faith intact.”
“Like the words on your cup?”
His shoulders lifted and fell. “Yeah. Guess God directed my hand when I reached into the cabinet this morning.”
“The fingerprints on the candy wrapper were Darren’s. He must have walked out farther than the other deputies.”
“I don’t recall ever seeing him eat a candy bar. I sure had hoped the prints would lead to the killer.”
“We all did.” She took a deep breath. Talking to Carr was awkward after her own revelation of friendship—not that it went beyond that. She had no business acknowledging feelings for him of any sort. Her dealings were to be professional only. Devastating emotions had slipped in on the sly, and she dared not reveal any of them.
Carr rose from his desk and walked to the window, where gray clouds hinted of rain. He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “Tell me more about the poison.”
“It’s a powder—colorless, odorless, and tasteless.”
He turned, and his eyes emitted sadness with the weight of the news. “You know I was on a mission trip a year ago in Brazil. Does that make me more of a suspect?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Praise God,” he whispered.
Bella took a deep breath. “Brandt spent time there. What if you were set up . . . and Lydia too, since she cooked for Darren that morning?”
Carr covered his face. “There’s not a sweeter, more godly woman on the planet. Can this get worse?”
“Sure it can.” For a moment, she thought he might break down. Odd, for she’d never seen a man grieve openly.
“Darren didn’t deserve to die like a tormented animal. And I don’t think it was an accident. What’s your professional take on this?”
She studied him, looking for telltale signs of guilt. “I haven’t seen enough to make a qualified decision.”
“Do you think he was poisoned because he got too close to the killer?”
She moistened her lips. “Absolutely.” She stretched her neck muscles, longing for a few hours’ sleep to get her mind and body in gear. “Someone who had the ability to obtain the poison and then administer it unbeknownst to him.”
“As in a friend?”
Bella shrugged. She allowed the silence between them to settle. Both needed time to ponder the implication of someone close to Darren ending his life. “How well did you know him? I saw the crowd of people at the hospital and at the memorial service. The newspaper bannered him a model citizen, a hero in the community who died in the line of duty. I heard the nickname ‘Daredevil Adams’ and the stories. His pastor read line after line of the people he’d affected with his countless good deeds.”
“You’re wondering if he lived a double life.”
“Did he?”
Tell me more, Carr.
“He was not the kind of man to be involved with murder or any kind of a ridiculous treasure hunt.”
“Did he say anything to you the morning of his death?”
“In fact, he did, except I wondered at the time if his comment was about his sickness or the case. He said, ‘This is bad. Worse than what you could imagine.’”
“What was said prior to that?”
“Oh, he was complaining about not being able to work on the investigation, and I responded it would still be there or something like that.”
Darren was onto the truth. He must have discovered who was behind the killings, and he’d died for it. She stood and walked to the window beside Carr, taking careful measure of the steadily graying sky and the distance between them. “Did he say anything else?”
“Nothing. But whatever he learned upset him. I could tell by the look on his face.” He shrugged. “But he was dying in front of me too.”
“Did he get along with all of his deputies?”
“As far as I know.”
“Were he and his wife getting along okay?”
“Yeah. They always held hands, kissing. Loved each other and in love. Once a week they had a date night or breakfast, whatever they could fit in.”
Later on she’d talk to Tiffany Adams to see if she could find a chink in their marriage or if Adams might have discussed information about the murder case with his wife. Could be another link . . . or a wild card.
“I’ve holed up here long enough. Lydia was devastated with the news, and I need to be with her. Really selfish of me when she’s downstairs.”
“I like her.”
And she knows the truth about me.
An hour later, Bella drove to the Adams home. From Tiffany’s reddened eyes, it was obvious she was not doing well. The news about the poisoning deepened her private abyss.
“Poisoned? It doesn’t make sense.” A tear slipped from her eye. “I’m afraid the coroner won’t release his body for burial.”
“I have no idea, but I’m sure it won’t be too much longer.”
“Who despised him enough to kill him?” Tiffany said.
“A good question. We’re working on it, and that’s another reason why I’m here. Just like you, I want to find out where he was poisoned. Did he mention having problems with someone recently released from jail or another deputy?”
“Not at all. Everyone respected Darren.”
Someone didn’t.
“Did he have breakfast that morning?”
Tiffany dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. “No. Lydia had invited him to eat with her and Carr.” She gasped. “Do you think Carr or Lydia is responsible for this?”
Bella smiled and took her hand. “I don’t think so. The sheriff’s department was at the High Butte when I left, and they hadn’t found a thing to connect Carr or Lydia. What time did he leave for their house?”
“Six o’clock. I remember because I’d glanced at the kitchen clock and realized I needed to get the boys up for their summer jobs.”
“And it takes about thirty minutes?”
“Twenty-three minutes. I know for sure because Darren had clocked it. He and Carr often did things together.”
“Did he have any stops to make along the way?”
“Oh no. He wanted to be there before you that morning and talk to Carr about the murders.” The moment Tiffany spoke her last word, tears trickled over her cheeks. Bella squeezed the woman’s hand while her own thoughts raced.
“Are you sure? Because Lydia said he didn’t arrive until 6:35. She remembered distinctly because the timer for her biscuits rang the moment he knocked on the back door.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened. “Where did he go during the extra minutes?”
“The sheriff’s office maybe?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Tiffany, I’m headed there now, and I’ll check to see if he made any calls.”
“Would you call me when you’re finished?”
“Sure.”
Tiffany stood with Bella. Hope leaped across her face. “Someone could have poisoned him during those extra minutes. I hope you’re able to find out who did this to my Darren. I’m going to be praying for that very thing.”