Cold Case at Cardwell Ranch

by B. J Daniels

  The gunshot so close to her ear was deafening. She heard the bullet bury itself in the dirt next to the vault and quickly eased backward down one step, then another. When she did dare look at Angeline, she saw that the woman was still smiling. Why would she want the key? Or was that just a ruse? Was she going to slam the trapdoor and leave Ella and Lionel down there?

  That was better than being shot. Not that being shot was off the table by any means. Once she handed over the key...

  She carefully stepped around Lionel, trying not to look at him. His eyes were open and he seemed to be staring up at her. Reaching around the edge of the door, Ella felt for the key. It took a moment to locate it and then attempt to pull it out.

  “I’m waiting,” Angeline said in a singsong voice.

  Finally, Ella worked the key out, stepped over Lionel again and then looked up. What was the woman going to do once she had the key? For a moment, Ella didn’t know what her best chance was. But while she’d struggled to remove the key, she’d noticed that there appeared to be a dugout off to her left. How far the tunnel went under the house, she had no idea. But it was definitely deep enough to hide a person.

  Ella knew she had to stall for time. Waco would be looking for her. Pretending she was moving to the steps, she pushed past them and ducked into the darkness tunneling under the house.

  “What are you doing?” Angeline demanded.

  Ella could tell that the older woman was leaning out over the stairs, trying to see her. “Tell me why you want the key.”

  Silence. Then she heard a sigh from overhead. “Because it is literally the key to the money. So don’t make me come down there to get it.”

  Ella looked at the key in her hand. The light wasn’t great down here, but she realized she’d never actually studied the key. It was large and ornate. She ran her fingers along the curved edges and felt tiny numbers stamped on the inside edge of the filigree.

  “How long have you known about the vault and that it was empty?” Ella asked.

  Angeline chuckled. “My father used to give me grief for always having my face in a book. I loved to read and the others left me alone. No one ever paid any attention to me, but I watched all of them.”

  “Clearly, you aren’t dying.”

  “Not yet, but I was a sickly child. It was easy to continue to be sickly. Watching them was how I knew about your mother being pregnant. I knew she hadn’t lost the baby. My father wasn’t fooled by the miscarriage. Neither was Lionel. He knew he had to get to that money before Marvin left all his wealth to Stacy’s son. We all knew that our father had already called about having his will changed. We didn’t know, though, that he’d made out a handwritten will.”

  Ella heard the sound of paper being balled up. A moment later, the copy of the will came tumbling down the stairs to land next to Lionel.

  She had to keep Angeline talking. “So, Lionel killed him, switched the keys, then found out the one around his father’s neck wasn’t the right one,” Ella said. “How long have you known we were going to find the vault empty?”

  “I wasn’t sure, but it certainly made sense. My father wasn’t a young man and he’d made a lot of enemies—even in his own house. He couldn’t trust his wife, and he knew that once he was dead and gone, we would go through our assets unless he could protect them,” Angeline said and sighed.

  “Eventually you would sell the house,” Ella said, seeing where she was headed with this.

  The older woman laughed. “He couldn’t leave the money in the vault for fear that we were so stupid we’d sell the house and never find the vault—or that one of us would take the key from around his neck when we killed him.”

  “How did you know the key was really the key to the money?” Ella thought Angeline might not answer.

  After a moment, she said, “My father was determined the money would go to his unborn son. He wasn’t about to let us get our hands on it. I was surprised when Lionel found the steel vault that he didn’t try to blast it open with dynamite. Or at least try to get someone to pick the lock or make a new key.”

  “But then he would have had to share the wealth,” Ella said.

  She heard a smile in Angeline’s voice. “You forced Lionel into admitting that he knew where it was. Not that he planned to share it, had the money been in there. If I hadn’t shot him, my body and Mercy’s would already be down there.”

  “So all you needed was the original key?”

  Angeline chuckled. “I had no idea that your mother had taken it. I’d just assumed that when Lionel killed our father, he’d gotten the key. When that proved untrue, all I could do was wait. Then someone made an anonymous phone call from the Gateway bar about the bones in the well.”

  “Lionel,” Ella said.

  “That’s when I knew for certain that he’d killed our father and somehow hadn’t gotten the right key.”

  “But you would know the right key because it opened the empty vault,” Ella said. “I suspect you’re more interested in the numbers stamped on the key. Some offshore bank account number?” Ella guessed.

  “I could tell you were a smart woman the first time I met you. But enough stalling. I’ll make you the same deal you made with Lionel. Bring me the key.”

  Ella laughed and didn’t move. “You must think I’m naive.”

  “More than naive if you think I won’t come down there.”

  Ella jumped as another gunshot echoed in the closed space, the bullet pinging off the steel vault and thudding into Lionel’s body on the ground.

  * * *

  WACO WAS ALREADY headed down the hall, gun drawn, when he heard the shot. He had to get to Ella and now he knew exactly where she was, he thought as he raced to the double doors at the end.

  He could hear Hud breaking in somewhere else in the house. Backup would be on the way. But Waco couldn’t wait for it. He had to go in. He had to try to save Ella.

  As he approached, he noticed a sliver of light coming from between the double doors. He slowed and moved cautiously, his heart in his throat and a mantra playing in his head. Let Ella be all right.

  At the sound of voices, he eased one of the doors open and peered inside. The first thing he saw was Mercy lying on the floor. She didn’t move as he opened the door a little wider and noted the wheelchair lying on its side. No sign of Angeline, though.

  Pushing the door even wider, he spotted her. She was standing at the edge of an opening in the floor. Who he didn’t see was Ella.

  Waco hadn’t thought he’d made a sound, but he saw Angeline begin to turn. The gun in her hand caught the dull light an instant before he heard the shot. The bullet carved a wormhole through the wood door frame before lodging itself in the hallway wall next to him.

  “Ella!” he yelled, ducking back at the sound of splintering wood off to his right. “Ella!” His voice broke. He was desperate to hear her voice and felt a lunge of relief when he heard her respond from somewhere beneath the floor opening.

  He quickly peeked around the corner of the partially open door, his weapon at the ready. Angeline was gone. He did a quick survey of the huge room and, heart dropping, knew where she’d disappeared to so quickly.

  * * *

  JEREMIAH MOVED AS quickly as he could through the cramped tunnel. In places, the dirt had caved in and he’d had to force his way through. He could hear voices and felt he was getting closer when he heard more gunshots.

  The batteries in his flashlight dimmed. Earlier, he’d been feeling pretty cocky. He had skills. But when he’d heard the gunshots, he’d hesitated for a moment. He was a small-time criminal. At least, that was what everyone in Hell and Gone had always told him. He’d resented it, but now he could see some truth in it.

  Maybe the cop was right and he was out of his league and not prepared for this.

  Or maybe not.

  Now, as he stared ahead into the black
hole in the earth, he thought of Ella. Holding his flashlight in front of him, he pushed deeper into the tunnel. His gut told him he had to get to his sister.

  * * *

  ELLA HEARD THE creak of the stairs after she’d called out to Waco, followed at once by the gunshot. She knew now that Angeline must have fired the shot and was coming down those stairs still armed.

  She hurriedly looked back toward the vault for something to use as a weapon and spotted Lionel’s gun lying next to his body. Pocketing the key, she scrambled for the weapon. She’d just wrapped her fingers around the grip when she heard Angeline’s sharp bark of a laugh directly above her.

  Ella spun around and pointed the gun at the older woman now halfway down the stairs.

  “That gun is useless,” Angeline said as she continued down the stairs. Her gun aimed at Ella’s chest, she was smiling as if she knew something Ella didn’t.

  Taking aim, Ella pulled the trigger. Click. She felt her eyes widen in alarm at the dry sound. She pulled the trigger again. Click. Click. Click.

  “I took the bullets out of Lionel’s gun,” the older woman said. “The fool didn’t even check.” Angeline was almost to her when she kicked the gun out of Ella’s hand and then seemed to fly directly at her. She grabbed hold of Ella’s long braid and pressed the barrel of her gun to Ella’s head.

  “Give me the key. Slip it into my pocket now.”

  Ella didn’t hesitate. She could feel Angeline’s strength in the hold she had on her hair. But it was the determination in that grip that had her turning over the key. She slipped it into the woman’s pocket an instant before Angeline turned them both as Waco appeared above them.

  “Throw down your weapon, Detective, or I’ll kill her. I’ve already killed my own family. Do you really think I wouldn’t shoot that tramp Stacy’s daughter?”

  “You’re trapped,” he said, sounding much calmer than Ella felt. “You can’t get away. Let her go. You don’t want to make this any worse.”

  Angeline laughed. “How could it be any worse?”

  That was when Ella heard a noise. It had come from the darkness under the house in that tunneled-in space where moments before she’d been hiding. She cut her eyes in that direction and saw something move.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ella could feel Angeline tense. Had she heard something, as well? Or was she reacting to Waco? Either way, Ella could almost sense the woman’s trigger finger getting itchy. Angeline had the key, but how did she think she would get away? Ella could hear the sound of sirens and people upstairs in the house. She knew it would be her uncle and backup.

  But she feared Angeline planned to end this long before the rest of the law arrived.

  Looking up at Waco, Ella knew she had to do something. Now!

  Angeline had her gaze locked with Waco’s in a standoff. Ella knew she would have only one chance. She shifted her body just enough that she could swing her arm back, leading with the elbow. She caught Angeline in the side and doubled her over.

  Angeline let go of her braid, the barrel of the gun that had been at Ella’s temple falling away for a moment, giving Waco a clear shot. The gun’s report echoed deafeningly through the space around them. Angeline let out a cry, blood oozing from her shoulder as she shoved past Ella, dived into the darkness under the house and disappeared.

  Ella didn’t have a chance to move before Waco clamored down the steps. He pulled her into his arms, the gun still in his hand. “Are you all right? Ella? Look at me.”

  She raised her eyes to him, but all she could do was nod. She’d been so sure Angeline was going to kill him or her. Or them both.

  Waco quickly released her and stepped in front of her, using his body as a human shield when they both heard movement in the darkness beyond the vault room.

  To Ella’s surprise, Angeline reappeared, stumbling toward them. Her clothing was covered in mud, as if she’d fallen, and she was no longer carrying her weapon. Behind her, Jeremiah came out, grinning, with her gun.

  “Look who I found trying to get away,” he said, his grin growing broader. “Hey, sis. Glad to see you’re all right. I see the detective here saved you.”

  “She saved us both,” Waco said. “You don’t want to underestimate your sister.” He put his arm around Ella and pulled her close as the rumble of footfalls could be heard on the floor above them. A few moments later, her uncle filled the opening at the top of the stairs.

  She smiled up at him.

  Hud shook his head and held out a hand. “Come on. It’s time to go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Two weeks later, Ella looked around the large living room at her family gathered there. The story about the Hanover takedown had hit all the papers, highlighting the gory details—a lot of them provided by Angeline herself. She was promising to write a book about growing up in her dysfunctional family. Said she was playing with the title The Hanover House of Horrors. The Hanover matriarch seemed to be enjoying her time in the spotlight, as if almost looking forward to prison.

  Mercy and Lionel were dead. Ella knew she could have been, too. She’d taken a dangerous chance. Lionel had killed his father after Marvin had said he was going to replace him with another son. Ella believed more than the money had motivated Lionel, but they would never know for sure.

  At least one of the Hanovers had been brought to justice. There wouldn’t be a trial, though, Waco was now telling the family, since Angeline had confessed to everything and waived that right.

  Jeremiah appeared instantly disappointed. Apparently, he’d hoped to get up on the stand as a witness.

  He also seemed to be enjoying his moment in the sun. Even Uncle Hud had grudgingly told Jeremiah that he’d done an okay job catching Angeline before she could get away. True, backup had been waiting outside at the root-cellar opening, so she wouldn’t have gotten far. But Hud left that part out.

  Uncle Hud had finally retired entirely, walking away from his lifetime’s calling. Ella could tell it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. She’d looked at Waco, knowing that she would soon have the same fears her aunt Dana had had all those years. Waco loved what he did. Like Uncle Hud, he wouldn’t quit until he absolutely had to.

  “I think I’d like to be a cop,” Jeremiah announced to everyone.

  Hud groaned.

  “My son can be whatever he wants,” Stacy declared, daring her brother-in-law to say differently.

  “I do have one question,” Ella said. “The words carved into the wall at the bottom of the well...”

  “Stacy don’t?” Waco said.

  “What do you think he was trying to tell her?”

  They all looked at Stacy. “I’ve thought about that,” she said. “I think he was trying to tell me not to get rid of his son. He wanted a part of him to live on that he could be proud of.”

  Ella thought that was one interpretation. She was just glad that Marvin hadn’t been trying to name his killer. If true, then Marvin had been thinking of his unborn son instead of the son who’d knocked him down the well and left him for dead.

  “Time to eat!” Dana announced, changing the subject. She had cooked two huge hens with dressing, garden green beans, mashed potatoes and relish she and Stacy had made last fall.

  They all ate and talked, the dining room a dull roar of voices and laughter, keeping the conversation light.

  Ella looked at Waco and smiled. He fit right in here as he argued with Jeremiah, teased Dana and asked for more of everything.

  * * *

  AFTER DINNER, she and Waco walked up to her cabin. They stopped on the porch and leaned on the railing to look out over the ranch, the river and the dark purple mountains against the starry sky.

  “Jeremiah wants me to help him get into the police academy,” Waco said without looking at her.

  “I think he might be good at it, except for the part
of following procedure, but then, you’d know more about that than I would,” she said with a grin.

  Waco shook his head. “It scares me that you could be more like your mother and brother than I know.”

  “Fear is a good thing,” she joked, then sobered. “You have to admit it—my brother came through for us.”

  “Your brother disobeyed every order I gave him.”

  She smiled over at him. “So did I.” She felt a chill, reminded of how close they had all come to losing their lives that night.

  “I was getting to that next,” he said softly, the roughness of his voice sending even more shivers over her bared skin.

  “Really?” she said, tossing out the challenge as he opened the front door to her cabin. She stepped through and heard him lock the door behind her. She turned to face him.

  “We’re going to have to establish some rules, you and I, for the future,” he said as he took a step toward her.

  “For the future?” she asked innocently.

  “Our future. Yours and mine.”

  She cocked a brow at him. “I can’t wait to hear about this future.”

  He reached out and brushed her hair back from her eyes. “I’m going to be your husband.”

  “That does sound like it might be interesting.”

  He moved closer. “You’re going to be my wife.”

  She met his blue-eyed gaze. “Hmm. If you say the word obey right now, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

  He was so close now that she could breathe in his intoxicating male scent and the great outdoors in the hair curling at his neck.

  “I would never waste my breath on the word obey anywhere near you. But we do need to discuss boundaries,” he said.

  Ella reached up and ran her fingertips over the scruff on his strong jaw, imagining what it would feel like on her skin. Desire shot like a flame through her veins. “Sounds serious. Where do you suggest we have this discussion?”