Mindset. The arson note had that unique phrasing. You should make your mindset one of defeat. Wyatt had used a similar phrase when we were trapped in the lodge. We want you to adopt the survival mindset.
And Roy had written the welcome greeting in the brochure. You should bring to Mule Shoe your mindset for success.
It wasn’t unusual for people who lived and worked together to pick up each other’s unique dictionary of words and phrases. I’d have to figure out something else. Some clue I’d overlooked. Where had everyone been? What had people said?
I bought Mule Shoe. Probably the lowest bid, which was SD. Sam . . . Dankworth?
Words written. A note. As per our tradition. The note from Scott Thomas to me. Gift. The puzzle pieces dropped into place.
I knew who, and I knew what I had to do. I just hoped it wouldn’t kill me. Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid. God is with you.
“Are you okay, Darby?” Roy asked. “You have a strange look on your face.”
“I just figured out the answer to question three. What was the escape strategy? How could someone possibly get away with all these murders and still end up with the mine and Mule Shoe? You simply blame everything on Sam, then kill him. If you’re the closest relative, you inherit everything. Resort, emerald mine, the whole enchilada. Who was he, Cookie? Your dear brother?”
Chapter 32
Cookie’s face blanched and she shook her head. “No, no, no! Why are you asking me about Sam? I only order supplies from him. I would never otherwise associate with someone like him.”
“Multiple denials, answering a question with a question, and claiming to be morally unable to do something.” My stomach felt rock hard. “Three signs of deception.”
“I’m not going to stand here and be accused of something I had no knowledge of. He attacked me!” Her hands formed fists. “Did you forget he hit me on the head and stabbed me?”
“No, I didn’t forget. Earlier tonight the setting sun glinted on the tip of the knife extending from a crack in a log. You jammed the knife tightly into that crack, then backed into it. That’s why you received more of a cut than a stab. The rock you used to hit yourself on the head was right where you dropped it.”
“Nonsense. Sam did it. You heard him.” Cookie’s face had gone from pale to flushed. “You all heard him.”
“We did hear Sam confess,” Grace said to me.
“He confessed to what he called ‘cleanup.’ And he said he was off on his timing, which was an accident.” I wiped my sleeve across my face, trying to get the smoky stench out of my nose. “What needed to be timed? The slide at Devil’s Keyhole. I’d bet Sam’s military experience had to do with explosives.”
No one spoke.
“But Sam also said ‘we’—plural. He had help. It had to be from someone who worked here, and so they had to die. The plan must have been to seal the exit route by blowing it up, but the timing was off and the route was closed before we could get out.
“Cookie called Sam on the radio just before she destroyed it. He knew he had to catch the helicopter and that things were coming to a head. She outlined the plan and kept in touch with him with a walkie-talkie.”
“Ridiculous!” Cookie almost yelled. “He killed the three men here on the ranch to hide his presence, then went after you and tried to kill you—”
“You’re making more and more mistakes, Cookie.” I didn’t take my gaze off her. “How could you have known someone tried to kill me? How could you have even known where I’d be?” I let her mistake sink in. “Because you were the one to suggest the route I would take, and you gave me a GPS with a low battery. You couldn’t know how long the battery would last, but you knew the dogs would head straight for Shadow Woman’s house, and I’d go after them. Besides, Sam didn’t follow me. He left for the mine as soon as he got here. You sent him ahead.”
“You’re crazy.” Cookie looked at the others. “She’s crazy.”
“You should have told Sam not to light a fire in Mae’s cookstove. Yet another mistake. It was still warm. You told Sam to put me in the cave because you knew darkness was a PTSD trigger for me—”
“How could I have known that? I don’t know you that well.”
“You knew I had PTSD. You saw my reaction to the darkness my first night here. You offered a lantern to Wyatt and Bram to get me to the cabin. You were hoping I’d get lost in the cave, go into a fugue state, or die in the geyser.” My voice shook. Putting her plans for my death into words sent chills down my back. “But Sam had no idea what I was talking about when I accused him of trying to kill me. He didn’t know about the geyser. You did. Mae couldn’t get her message through to Roy, but you were there. You understood. You moved the miners, set that fire, then murdered Mae.”
“No!”
“He believed the mine tapped out because you told him. You. His beloved sister. His only family.”
“That’s horrible.” Grace looked at Cookie now as if she were the devil incarnate. Which she was.
“You told Sam to remove my prosthesis and bring it here. You probably said that would slow me down. You had him put the prosthesis into the building, which you’d then burn. You hoped no one would question what happened to the rest of my body.”
Roy had stepped away from Cookie and was staring at her. Now he looked at me. “That can’t be right, Darby. Sam was here all last night and today. You were in the dining room when Sam shot in the window! And this morning when you rode out, Sam was shooting at you. He couldn’t have been two places at once.”
“He didn’t have to be,” I said. “Cookie was doing the shooting. I’d bet she placed the missing stash of guns next to the kitchen. She conveniently went to the kitchen for water last night. She had plenty of time to move the chair holding the door shut, shoot out the nearby window, hide the gun, replace the chair, and tuck herself under a table where I found her. Remember we were all scrambling for cover.”
“What about this morning?” Grace asked.
“Once again Cookie offered to create a diversion, again from the kitchen door.”
Cookie almost sputtered. “You’re accusing me of killing three men, stabbing Angie—”
“Another mistake, Cookie.” I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans. “We haven’t found the third ranch hand. So he’s dead too?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You wanted Sam to buy Mule Shoe, so you started by getting the insurance dropped with the horseback incident and the hikers’ deaths. That dropped the price and changed the cash flow. Then came the ‘accidents,’ like a trap set so someone would fall through the loft onto a pitchfork. Mixing up reservations. Attracting bears. Planting dead raccoons and contaminated water. You destroyed the art room. Sam wasn’t around for any of it, and none of that would have been necessary if the mine were tapped out.”
Cookie pointed at me. “You’re delusional. Suffering from PTSD. You had to get rehabilitated at Clan Firinn, like me. I’ll be sending Scott Thomas my report. You need to be treated—”
“You were never at Clan Firinn. That was the best lie you could have told, because you knew I’d trust you.” I wanted to spit as Roy had done. “You expect an enemy to lie to you, but not a friend. That’s what took me so long to suspect you.” My voice cracked and I swallowed, then continued. “You knew all about Clan Firinn because you read Roy’s mail. And you found my note from Scott hidden in the art room. That was your biggest mistake, Cookie.”
Cookie didn’t answer.
“Scott wrote in my letter that he was sending me a gift that was ‘as per our tradition.’ That meant everyone got the same thing from the beginning. The gift was three rocks, representing the three stumbling stones I’d need to overcome, my PTSD triggers. But you had no idea what I was talking about when I showed you the rocks. You didn’t know what the gift was. I bet you thought I was asking about another kind of rock—the kind with emeralds in it.”
Cookie’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“I
have just one question for you, Cookie. Why did you try to kill Angie? Unlike the ranch hands, she didn’t see Sam get off the helicopter.”
“I caught her snooping in my room. She knew too much. And so do you.”
I lifted Sam’s pistol and pointed it at her.
She laughed, high-pitched and shrill. “Your gun is empty. I unloaded it before giving it to Sam.”
I kept my gun aimed at her.
Cookie laughed again, even more maniacally, and raised the Glock. “You’re a fool, Darby.”
I pulled the trigger.
Chapter 33
Cookie screamed and dropped to the ground. Roy raced to her side and yanked the pistol from her hands, then bent down and checked her. “You’ll live,” he said to her.
I knew she would. I hadn’t gone for a fatal shot. “I’d still tie her up.”
Roy pulled off his belt and used it to tie Cookie’s hands. The bullet had gone through the fleshy part of Cookie’s hip—painful, but not life-threatening. “Maja,” he said to one of the staffers, “there’s a first-aid kit in the lodge. Bring me that and a blanket.”
The woman left.
“I thought she said your gun was empty,” Roy said to me.
“She emptied the clip but forgot to check the chamber.” I was suddenly exhausted, in need of sitting down before I fell down. I hopped over and sat next to Bram.
“How bad is it?” I tried not to look at his burned legs.
“Bad.” He winced. “My legs . . . and I think my shoulder is dislocated.”
I started to stand and called for Roy.
He grabbed my hand. “No. Don’t leave. I wanted . . . want to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not believing you were perfect from the start.”
“Thank you, Bram. I’m not perfect.”
Maverick came up to me and lay down, keeping a wary eye on Bram. I put my arm around the dog. A calm settled over me.
“He’s finally trusting you,” Bram said.
I stroked his silky ear. “He’s coming around.”
Bram shifted, then winced. “The dogs led you to Shadow Woman—”
“Mae. Her name was Mae Haas. Her dogs guarded her body for as long as they could.”
Maja returned with the first-aid kit, water bottles, and blankets. She left the kit and one blanket with Roy, then brought the water and second blanket over to Bram. We covered him and gave him the water.
Grace joined us. “You said you were exonerated.” Grace sat on the other side of Bram. “From what?”
I held up Sam’s empty pistol, then placed it on the ground beside Bram. Reaching into my pocket, I removed the last stone and set it on the pistol. “For feeling responsible for losing my unborn baby, losing my leg, and losing my husband. That day five years ago, my gun wasn’t loaded.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Bram said.
“Yes and no.” I shrugged. “I guess I’ll always feel guilty, but who’d believe they needed to be armed when going to buy a horse?”
“I read that you weren’t found until hours after the shooting,” Bram said.
I nodded. “Sepsis had set in on my leg, which made me miscarry.”
“And your husband died,” Grace said.
I stared into the fire for a moment. “No,” I said softly. “He was hurt, but he recovered. He blamed me. For . . . everything. He divorced me. That’s what put me over the edge.”
Grace leaned forward. “So Shadow Woman wasn’t really Mae Haas. It’s really you who’s been living in the shadows.”
I nodded. “The shadow of guilt, fear, and shame.”
In the distance came the most wonderful sound in the world, the chuff, chuff, chuff of helicopters. “Help will be here soon,” Grace said, then stood and walked over to Roy. The two of them left to direct the arriving officers and medical staff.
Maverick jumped to his feet and trotted into the night.
Bram reached over and squeezed my hand. “What now, Darby Graham?”
My eyes blurred. I knew what he was asking. “I don’t know. Maybe see what God has in store for me. Check out the promise of Jeremiah 29:11. Hope and a future.”
The helicopters were close enough that speaking was difficult.
All that had happened seemed like a dream. Someone had been able to ride for help. Peter and Stacy? Wyatt? Liam? Whoever it was, uniformed officers and EMTs soon swarmed us. I was grateful when Roy and Grace explained what happened. I was too exhausted to talk.
The EMTs checked Cookie, then Bram. I scooted away so they could have access to him. They called for stretchers, and Angie, Bram, and Cookie were whisked away to the medivac chopper.
An officer finally came over to where I was still sitting on the ground. “The sheriff is going to have a lot of questions for you.”
I nodded.
He bent down and lifted me as if I weighed nothing. “Come along then.” He didn’t put me down until he had me strapped into a police copter.
Epilogue
Eighteen months later
Mule Shoe Ranch
“Why are those dogs barking?” The teenage girl stared at Maverick and Holly, now howling under a pine tree.
“You’ll soon find out.” I held up my clipboard. “Name?”
The earthquake hit before she could answer. She squealed and sat on the ground clutching her rolled-up sleeping bag. All of the young campers grabbed each other or their assorted luggage while the ground briefly shook.
When the quaking stopped and the dogs ceased their barking, I blew a whistle to gain their attention. Grace, wearing khaki Bermuda shorts, hiking boots, and a Camp Mule Shoe polo shirt, stepped forward. “Welcome, campers. Don’t worry about the earthquake. They’re common here. We’re less than five miles from the edge of the Yellowstone caldera, the so-called Yellowstone supervolcano.”
One young girl raised her hand. “What’s a supervolcano?”
Grace gave her an approving nod. “A supervolcano, by definition, must eject at least 240 cubic miles of material and is capable of measuring a magnitude eight or more on the Volcanic Explosivity Index . . .”
While Grace gave her favorite end-of-the-world-erupting-volcano speech, I did my final count of participants. This would be another good week. We had a full house.
To offset Grace’s obsession with supervolcanos and the sudden destruction of civilization, I’d had the photograph of Mae Haas along with the second verse Scott Thomas sent me laminated, and I carried it with me every day. “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.”
The quiet purring of one of our electric shuttles announced a visitor. I handed the clipboard to the nearest counselor and strolled over to greet the newcomer. Bram stepped out.
My breath caught in my throat. My heart rate shot off the charts. I hadn’t seen him in over a year and a half.
He was as handsome as ever, maybe even more so with the touch of gray at his temple.
My face warmed. I was wearing the camp uniform of khaki shorts and polo shirt, my leg exposed for all to see.
He reached into the shuttle and pulled out a cane, then grinned at me.
Grace had stopped speaking and I realized all eyes were on us.
I moved closer. “Welcome, stranger.”
Holly couldn’t contain her joy at seeing her buddy. She ran over to him, jumped up, and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
Lucky dog.
I could hear the campers near me whispering.
“Who’s that?”
“I think it’s a movie star.”
“He’s hot for an old guy. He must be at least thirty.”
“Positively ancient. One foot in the grave,” I muttered and nodded toward a picnic table out of range of the teens. As I walked over, I quickly yanked the clip holding my hair up, fluffed it, and bit my lip to give it some color. A quick finger check found no leftover lunch stuck between my teeth. We s
at across the table from each other, then both spoke at once.
“I thought you—”
“How are you—”
“You first,” I said.
“I left the sheriff’s department.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. The scandal when I turned over the evidence to have the sheriff’s son arrested as the serial arsonist pretty much meant we all had to leave. I figured the judge would be more lenient on Liam because he was the one who got help for all of us, but he still got a hefty sentence.”
“Did they ever figure out why he set the fires?”
“Pretty much what I’d worked out. Get even with his mom, move out of Fremont County, end up in a bigger city. But he’d also found he liked setting fires. Didn’t you follow all that in the news?”
“No.” I traced the wood grain on the tabletop. “I returned to Clan Firinn until Cookie’s trial—”
“I thought for sure I’d see you then.”
“They kept me pretty much sequestered. And the defense attorney was brutal . . .” I looked up and smiled at him. “Let’s talk about better things. What are you doing now?”
“I’m between jobs, but I have an offer I’m considering.” He glanced around. “I see a lot of changes here.”
“Cookie couldn’t benefit from her crime, so the place went back up for sale. When Grace bought Mule Shoe, she turned it into a summer camp for challenged teens. Each week is a different group. This week it’s amputees. The cabins are for staff, and we added tepees for the campers to sleep in. The kids love it.”
“Well, what kid wouldn’t want to sleep in a tepee?”
Maverick wandered over and sat beside Bram. “Well, hello, Maverick.” He tentatively patted the dog on the head, then looked at me. “This is new. When did he start letting people touch him?”
“He’s coming around. Anyway, we still don’t allow cell phones or electronic devices, but now we have electricity, internet service, and outdoor lighting. And batteries. Lots of batteries.”
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