Chapter 19
Carr tightened the cinch and led his gelding from the stable. Normally while saddling up, he took a few minutes to appreciate the squeak of leather and the fresh scent of hay. Until five years ago, he’d never been on a horse or appreciated them. When Jasper came along, he made sure Carr was put on “the fast track to ranching” and learned as much about horseflesh and ranching as Jasper could squeeze into one man’s brain.
But this morning things were different. Jasper awaited him, and the two were on a mission. Early this morning both of them had heard rifle fire—six shots, to be exact—and Carr wanted to make sure another dead body hadn’t dropped on his land.
Calling Bella crossed his mind more than once, which was why he’d asked Jasper to join him. In light of the media reports, it made more sense for the two men to search the ranch than for Bella and him to find another body. Carr regretted her name had been splattered across the TV and newspaper headlines with his when he knew she was a conscientious professional.
He swung up into the saddle. “I sure hope we don’t find another problem out there.”
The leathery old man mounted his saddle like a twenty-year-old. “But we both are thinking otherwise, or we wouldn’t be doing this.”
Apprehension ground in Carr’s gut, but he couldn’t sit back and do nothing. “We were caught off guard when we found those three men, but since Darren’s death, I’m more angry and determined to get to the bottom of this than afraid.”
“A healthy dose of fear is better than stupidity.”
“You’re thinking I should have called Bella?”
“She carries a weapon.”
“We have our rifles.”
“But we’re not trained FBI agents assigned to solve murders.”
Jasper made sense, but not enough for Carr to change his mind about going. However, he could appease his friend. He pulled his cell phone clipped to his belt and punched in Bella’s number. Staring at the butte in the distance, he waited for her to answer. Her soft voice rattled him, not about the investigation but what he realized were his steadily growing feelings for her.
“Bella, this is Carr. Jasper and I heard rifle fire shortly after midnight, so we’re taking a look on horseback. Thought you might want to know.”
“Did you call Roano?”
Carr had a hard time being civil to the newly appointed sheriff. “He’s busy.”
“That happens to be part of his job. Wait and I’ll go with you this afternoon.”
“Too late. We’re saddled and riding.”
“What if you find a situation out of your control?”
“Won’t be the first time.”
“This isn’t a game, Carr. Wait until I get there.”
“Not this time. It’s my ranch, and I’m making sure there aren’t any bodies. I’m not leaning on a . . .”
“Woman?”
“Bella.”
“Don’t say another word. Do you have mush for brains? Think about it. You’re a major suspect in four murders, not the Lone Ranger on a crusade with your sidekick Tonto.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the call and clipped the phone back onto his belt. “Satisfied?”
“I suppose.” Jasper’s voice sounded tired, old. And who could blame him?
“If you’re afraid, stay here. Doesn’t bother me at all.”
“Nope. You’re stuck with me. My reservations are about where this is all headed. You look guilty to most folks.”
Carr had assumed Jasper believed in his innocence. “What about you?”
Jasper tossed him an exasperated frown. “I think I know you better than anyone else, except for Lydia. Being a woman, she has insight I wasn’t born with. You don’t have a streak of meanness to deliberately hurt someone.”
“Thanks. I’m praying for God to vindicate me, but the problem is growing worse right before my eyes. Can’t sleep for worrying about it.”
“Maybe you need a lawyer.”
Carr studied his friend. “I’ve been thinking about Aros Kemptor.”
“Me too. He does a lot of good in the community, but I’ve never heard of him representing anyone in serious trouble.”
“He’s called me a few times. A little pushy but sincere.”
“It’s your decision, Carr. My thoughts are like yours. The situation is going to get worse before it gets better.” Jasper shrugged. “Could be I’m an old man who doesn’t like what he’s seeing.”
“You’re a good friend, and I need all the friends I can get. Over the past five years, your advice has kept me on track in my spiritual and personal life. My dad tried to teach me what life was all about, but I didn’t listen. He loved God and wanted me to follow in the faith. Now he’s gone. You’ve given me a chance to honor and respect you the way I should have done for him.”
“We’ve talked a lot about your past and what brought you out of Dallas. But what brought you to this part of Texas?” Jasper studied him with a narrowing of his left eye, which meant his questioning was steered in a particular direction.
Carr sensed irritation rising in him. Jasper knew all about him. Why did he ask again? “I’m sure you remember how I needed a fresh start.”
“Didn’t Jesus give you that in Dallas?”
“He did.” Confusion crawled across Carr’s emotions. “I told you what I did there.” Did Jasper have doubts about his integrity?
“You did. I have a point to make.”
“Figured.”
“You believed by living out here, the temptation to party in ways that don’t please God, use folks for your own means, and socialize with women would be easier to avoid.” Jasper’s voice had a spiritual tone to it, lower and more reverent.
“And I was right.”
“I agree, and I think for your circumstances you made the right move. You aren’t the same man who hired me to help run this ranch.”
“But what, Jasper? Where’s this leading?”
Jasper grinned. “You know me pretty well. I have a question for you. Did you think that by avoiding those sins, you could avoid sin entirely?”
“Of course not.” Carr stopped himself. Had he thought he was immune to sin simply by leaving Dallas and avoiding those triggers? Had he set himself up as a pious, monkish man a level above other men, as though he had an immunity to sin?
Have I done exactly that?
“I made you think. Good. And I don’t believe what you’re wondering about yourself will be figured out today. Sometimes realization is the first step to lettin’ Jesus in to do His work. At least it is with me.”
Carr rode a few more feet. Thinking. Praying. Questioning. “Sin’s going to find me wherever I go.”
“My point. Since you’ve lived here, it’s been easy to love God and be obedient. And when you felt Him guiding you to start a home for those boys, you accepted the challenge.”
“Right. Here in the silence, I seem to hear God better.” He shrugged. “But I get your point. I still sin.”
“God knows your heart, and Satan is after you big-time. He’s not happy about your change of life and commitment. So all he can do is hammer you with situations causing you to doubt your faith.”
Like how he felt about Roano. Carr had turned the other cheek when the man blacked his eye, and he felt real smug about it. Big old Christian from West Texas out to show the world what being like Jesus was all about. But inside, Carr despised Roano. The newly appointed sheriff was disagreeable, and he’d taken Darren’s place.
Now Carr understood. “The four murders and my suspected involvement have weakened my faith instead of making me stronger.” He took a deep breath. “Trials are to strengthen our faith.”
“You’re not going to let Satan win.” Jasper’s words were a statement, a declaration.
“Absolutely not. I’m riding this bull until it’s over.”
Jasper laughed. “That’s why you have me.”
“Guess so. The worst pain I ever had was when Michelle died, and with it came an invitation to follow Christ. But I suppose I’m not the only man who heeded the Holy Spirit at a funeral. I’ve hurt plenty lately, which says to me if I stay strong, I’m about to take a spiritual leap.”
“I agree. Don’t give up on the Lord. There’s a reason for all of the tragedy.”
Carr hoped so. Too many times of late, he wanted to quit life. “Any other sage advice?”
“Just know that Lydia and I are praying for you.” Jasper rubbed his whiskered jaw. “God sure didn’t intend for His creation to act like this.”
“I know He can handle it, but man’s behavior must grieve Him.”
“I’m sure it does. He has emotions that are deeper than ours.” Jasper hesitated. “One other thing: there’s more to Miss Bella than meets the eye.”
Strange remark.
“Such as?”
“She’s been through a lot of pain. Has she told you about her life when she lived here?”
Carr shook his head. “I know she doesn’t have much use for God.”
“Understandable. Considering.”
“You’re not planning to tell me a single thing, are you?” How could one man make him so frustrated?
“Nope. Not my job.”
An hour later, the two men rode along the northwest corner of the ranch. The need to know more about Bella would not let Carr go. He couldn’t ignore his growing feelings for her, and he hoped she might have the same for him.
Carr drank in the beauty of the land—God’s ranch. Nothing looked out of the ordinary as they rounded small hills strewn with rock. A rare summer rain drenched them both, but neither man wanted to ride back until they checked every section of the ranch.
Jasper was the first to see the fallen livestock. Carr audibly moaned with the realization of what the rifle fire indicated. The rain grew heavier, sure to wash away the tracks, as though the shooter had ordered up the gully washer. The two men dismounted. Four heifers and two horses were shot.
* * *
Bella’s progress in solving the case looked like a sixth grader’s work. Actually it was dismal. If she took the time to dwell on what Brandt might have in store for her in his bag of tricks, she’d run back to Houston. But she wasn’t a fifteen-year-old kid any longer, and this time she intended to stand her ground.
To make matters worse, Carr and Jasper were on some crazy escapade to find out why they’d heard shots fired on the ranch.
While in her hotel room, Bella phoned Pete in Houston and asked him to dig deeper for any rumors about Brandt, no matter how remote. She’d fly with whatever they could find. Somewhere in all of this was the key to unlock the investigation.
Roano had been helpful, but hostile toward Carr. His words nailing Carr for the murder of the three men and Adams weren’t conducive to a pleasant working environment.
And she hadn’t heard a word from Vic. Why hadn’t she asked for his wife’s name so she could check the hospitals in Dallas? Another stupid move. She shouldn’t think disparaging thoughts about a fellow agent, but she did.
Gathering up her shoulder bag and laptop, Bella took the stairs to the lobby and parking lot. Earlier rain had fallen like sheets, but now the sun peeked through the clouds and dried the pavement. Definitely a good omen, except for Carr’s fool trick to look for the source of the rifle fire. She made her way into the parking lot and noted muddy footprints leading to her car. The footprints stopped by the driver’s side, and a white, business-size envelope had been tucked under the windshield wipers. She noted it was dry—a recent addition. Closer inspection revealed her first name printed with a black marker:
Rachel
. Bella took a cautious glance around and saw no one. Bending to the ground, she measured the muddy footprints with her own sandal.
Paranoia must have set in because the print looked like a size twelve. She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a tape measure: 11¼ inches. Before she touched the vehicle, she wanted to make sure there were no surprises. Taking a few steps back, she disarmed the car’s alarm and waited. For the next ten minutes, Bella watched various vehicles pass, studied the parked ones, and paid attention to any walkers. Nothing about her car looked unusual or suspicious.
A Hispanic man walked by dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He had a slight limp. “Have you seen anyone by my car?”
He cupped his ear.
She repeated her question, this time in Spanish.
Again he cupped his ear and pointed to it.
Great. The man was deaf. She smiled and directed her attention to a couple leaving the hotel, their fingers entwined and her head nestled into his shoulder. They’d be oblivious to a tornado.
Bella lifted the envelope from the windshield and slipped her index finger beneath the flap to the folded piece of typed paper inside.
Rachel, be careful. You’re safer in Houston. Brandt plays for keeps.
Chapter 20
When Bella drove to the High Butte Ranch on Friday afternoon, she repeatedly checked the mirrors of her car for a trailing vehicle. What a life. Actually, driving defensively through Houston rush-hour traffic seemed safer. In the big city, she expected motorcycles to weave in and out of three lanes and good old boys in pickups to attempt to outrun police cars.
But in West Texas, anything goes.
She passed two trucks while the dazzling sun blinded her. The temps were over a hundred, making the paved road hot enough to fry burgers. Perhaps whoever had shot out her tires nine days ago would be inside in air-conditioning and not waiting for her to drive by.
She knew Brandt was behind all of the deaths. She understood his motivation, his lust for the Spider Rock gold. But how could she prove it? Where had he slipped up? Those three men had found something on Carr’s ranch connected to the treasure, but what? Lydia claimed an old man in Junction said the maps were wrong, that the treasure was in Runnels County. Bella needed his name for an interview.
As Bella allowed her mind to wander, she discarded the idea of Darren Adams playing a role in the scheme of things. Tiffany Adams had inherited a sizable sum in the early nineties when her parents were killed in a car crash. The person who poisoned Daredevil Adams had to have caught him unawares—probably a friend. If she could discover that person, the case would take a huge step forward.
Over and over she toyed with scenarios looking for the weakest link. So one more time, she wanted to see the murder site and search for evidence that might have been overlooked. She hoped Carr and Jasper hadn’t found anyone hurt or dead this morning. Perhaps it was kids on the butte messing around. But rifle shots in the middle of the night didn’t sound good.
At the ranch, the surroundings looked peaceful. She enjoyed coming here, but she’d prefer more pleasant circumstances. She paused to watch a frisky colt race across the pasture and listened to the peaceful sounds of cicadas and songbirds. If her life had been like this fourteen years ago, she might still be here.
At the back door, Lydia invited her inside. “Carr’s upstairs in the library,” she said. “Have a seat and I’ll get him.”
Bella slid into a chair, realizing how her body ached from lack of sleep. No matter how tired she was at night, visions of the rattler’s form in her bed kept her awake.
Lydia reappeared. “He said for you to come on up. Would you like a cool drink? Just made a fresh pitcher of iced tea.” She sighed. “He had a rough morning. Has a decision to make.”
Bella’s internal alarm poured adrenaline into her veins. If Carr and Jasper had found a body, the place would be swarming with deputies. Considering how the caffeine would give her a jolt, Bella accepted the tea. She climbed the staircase that wound to the loftlike upstairs. The walls held framed art of Texas’s history beginning with the Alamo and continuing on with oil wells and ending with space travel. Someday she’d take the time to study each picture. She turned left and made her way to the library that doubled as Carr’s office.
She paused in the doorway. “Good morning.”
Carr lifted his head from a book about the Spider Rock treasure, one she’d seen him reading in the past. He offered a grim smile. The deepened lines around his face and eyes probably matched hers. “Sit down.” He gestured toward the leather chair across from his desk. His gaze failed to meet hers, not a common occurrence. As much as she didn’t want to admit her attraction to him, it fueled her wandering thoughts. The last time they spoke, she told him she believed in his innocence.
“What did you find this morning?” she said. “I expected a call.”
“Four dead cattle and two horses. All shot with the same type of bullet.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out the bullets. “All of this is a warning to scare me off my land. And these are the same shells used in my rifle, the type used to kill those three men and blow out your tires. And I’m fed up with it. These guys are not giving up, and neither am I.”
“Did you call the county sheriff’s office?”
“Sure. Roano said he’d check in later. Other things had more importance.”
She’d seen law enforcement officials give up on investigations when days passed without solid answers. But that didn’t sound like Roano. “Why do I think he said more?”
Carr lifted his chin. “For whatever it’s worth, he said, ‘Too bad the shooter missed the real target. I feel bad for the animals.’”
She winced. “Nice guy. Is he a suspect in shooting your animals, or is he the one who blacked your eye? or both?”
“Neither one is important. Roano lost a good friend, and he’s retaliating the only way he knows how. But I doubt he shot my livestock.”
“Right. Rather immature. I saw real tears at the memorial service.”
Bella listened to Carr voice his thoughts, always analyzing his statements, always reading his body language. She believed in his innocence, but she had to be looking for an error. Allowing her feelings for him to blind her meant someone else could be killed. Yet she sensed something else bothered him. “What else is on your mind?”
His gaze bored into hers, cold and calculating. “When were you planning to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
Carr’s eyebrows narrowed. She hadn’t seen him angry before, only heard about his temper. “When I talked to Roano today, he had a few questions about Darren and me having a disagreement regarding our church’s building project.” He folded his hands on his desk, and she didn’t understand what had gotten him so hot. “For the record, I thought the project should be debt-free. Darren wanted to secure a loan for half of it. Once Roano was finished, he told me something interesting. Said you and he had gone to school together. Why didn’t you tell me you grew up in Runnels County? that your father was a Spider Rock enthusiast?”
Uneasiness chased a chill up her spine. Why hadn’t the deputy questioned her about her life there? She didn’t remember him from school, but much of those days were a blur. “The information hadn’t come up in the investigation.”
“But you pretended ignorance about the Spider Rock.”
He had no idea what nightmares the legend procured. “I said I didn’t believe in it, and I knew very little about the legend. And for the record, my father was the treasure hunter, not I. What I know is minuscule compared to what we’ve researched online or what you’ve relayed to me from your book.”
He leaned back in his chair. Still no sign of his infamous temper, unless his rage lay dormant until it exploded in a burst of fury.
She silently dared him to challenge her. “I’ve seen how the Spider Rock treasure affects those who forsake everything to find it. I don’t have specific clues. Sure I’ve heard the stories and seen the map. But as far as I know, the gold could be anywhere.”
“I’ve done all I could think of to help you, and you played me for some kind of a fool. I understand I was a suspect in the murders. Probably still am. I also understand you’re an FBI agent sent to find out who committed those murders and under no obligation to tell me anything. But I thought we were friends, on the same side.”
In his shoes, she’d be upset and feel betrayed too. Perhaps a little information for friendship’s sake was in order. “I lived in this county until I was fifteen years old. My father was obsessed with finding the treasure, which is why I left the area.”
“You left the area? But not your parents?”
“Right. I went to live with an aunt.”
“Seems strange. Do they still live here?”
“I have no idea.”
“Are you going to tell me any more? Because I have a hard time believing you don’t know where your parents are.”
“Believe what you want. Doesn’t matter. Because of those early years, the FBI assigned me lead agent in the investigation.”
He studied her as though weighing what she’d said—or perhaps what she hadn’t said. “What prompted you to join the FBI?”
She smiled and his animosity appeared to diffuse, if there had been much at all. She’d been asked this question before, and the answer had motivated every step of her career. “Concern for violent crime. I believe good and decent people deserve to walk the streets and country roads of the U.S. without fear.”
“I see. But there’s more, isn’t there?” Intensity crept across his face. “We all have our secrets, Bella.”
No point in getting in his face. He saw straight through her avoidance. “I haven’t been back here since.” Bella wrestled with how much more to tell Carr. She’d allowed her feelings for him to affect her logical, matter-of-fact method of processing information in the investigation. Yet deep in the pit of her stomach, where reason collided with intuition, she knew Carr was one of the finest men she’d ever met. Her original impression of him being arrogant and guilty of violent crime changed when she watched how he led his life. His role in the crimes lay in circumstantial evidence, and at this point, she’d learned nothing to convince her otherwise.
“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth.” She hoped he believed her.
Silence wafted about the room. Uneasiness warred against her normal mode of wanting to be in control. But beyond her domineering personality traits was how she felt about truth and justice.
“Earlier today, I found footprints leading to my car. A note had been placed under the wiper blades.” She pulled it from her shoulder bag and read the typed note, omitting her first name. “‘Be careful. You’re safer in Houston. Brandt plays for keeps.’”
“Someone wants to make sure you’re safe.”
“Maybe. Would have been nice if the person had signed it.”
He paused. “Footprints, huh? It must have rained in Abilene too. What size shoes?”
“What do you think?”
“But the note says to stay away from Richardson.”
“He’s not the only one involved who wears a size-twelve shoe.”
Carr’s openness urged her to take another step forward. But was this the right thing to do? Vulnerability had never been a part of her adult life, and she wasn’t so sure she wanted to start now. Bella stood and walked to the window—the light streaming in had come to represent clarity of thought. From the view there, the butte appeared to hold up the sky. Wasn’t she the special agent who supposedly had her act together, sent to locate a murderer and make an arrest?
“Who is the other ghost?” His words were spoken barely above a whisper, coaxing her. She feared making a mistake, and yet she detested looking over her shoulder like a coward afraid of her own shadow.
“My father.”
Carr scooted back his chair, and in an instant, he was beside her. “The FBI assigned you to a case in which your own father may be involved?”
“I don’t think they’re aware of his possible role in what is happening here.”
“I haven’t heard of a man named Jordan in this case.”
“His name is Stanton Warick.”
Carr’s eyes softened.
Her pulse raced. “Do you know him?”
“I know the name. While getting my feet wet about ministering to troubled teen boys, I visited a couple of churches in the county—sort of to see if I could relate to teens. I spoke to them about my life before becoming a Christian.” He hesitated, his eyes capturing hers. “I remember a couple of boys with the last name of Warick.”
Must be a mistake.
“They were in church? I find that hard to believe.”
“Yep. These boys came from youth groups.”
Did she really want to venture into this? But how could she not explore the possibility? “First names?”
“I don’t remember.”
Bella doubted the boys were a part of her family. She couldn’t remember any other Waricks from her childhood. However, she’d look into it. The Stanton Warick she remembered had no use for church or anything that didn’t profit him. This evening when she was able to get online, she’d have Warick’s info, which would give his address and how he spent his time. She’d have the information now if her BlackBerry had a signal. Still, she’d made a commitment to Aunt Debbie to find her siblings, and she intended to keep her word. They might need her.
“Was Pastor Kent with you during those visits?”
Carr nodded. He stepped to his desk and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “I’m assuming those boys could be related to you. Why don’t you give me their names?”
Why not? What did she have to lose? “Ty, Alex, Zack, and a girl—Anne.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can find out. Are they cousins?”
“Something like that. I’d hate to involve kids in all of this. But it may be necessary.”
“Wish I could figure out how your mind works.”
“With this investigation?” She knew exactly what he meant.
“For starters.”
“It’s always a puzzle, but unlike a jigsaw where you start with the corners and sides, the pieces are all random.”
Carr stuffed his hands into his jeans pocket. “In the middle are three dead men, and Darren’s body may or may not fit.”
“I’m inclined to believe it does,” Bella said.
“What else goes into the puzzle?”
“The Spider Rock treasure, Brandt Richardson, Stanton Warick . . .”
“I can almost hear the gears grinding in your head. What else are you thinking?”
Bella reached for the pad of paper on his desk, tore off the names of her brothers and sister, and drew a square on a clean piece. “What if the treasure is in the middle of the puzzle with the High Butte in the background? And in one corner are the three victims. In another corner is Brandt Richardson, and in the other two corners are other players?”
“Like Warick?”
“Yeah.” She doodled on the bottom of the paper while mentally processing what she remembered about her father and Brandt’s relationship.
“So who else could be in those two corners?”
Bella allowed her mind to clear. “Maybe Darren. We both know he heard or saw something that bothered him. Maybe someone who was close to the victims—or someone close to Richardson.”
“What are Richardson’s habits?”
She started to tell him he didn’t qualify for the information. But then again, he might have answers for her. “He’s manipulative, charming. Uses disguises like a chameleon. The one characteristic he cannot alter is the raspy sound of his voice.”