The Legacy of Copper Creek

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The Legacy of Copper Creek Page 22

by R. C. Ryan


  Along the main highway, Ash was driving while Griff was using binoculars to scan the area beyond.

  As they listened to the conversation on their cell phones’ speaker systems, Ash drummed nervous fingers on the wheel. “I agree with Mad and Whit. I don’t believe for a minute this was all orchestrated by Cara. I liked her the minute I met her. What’s more, Brenna really liked her. And I trust my wife’s instincts.”

  Griff nodded. “Juliet and Brenna had a bet going as to how long it would take before Whit realized he was in love. They were both thrilled with the prospect of having Cara for a sister-in-law.” He turned to glance at Ash. “There’s something to be said for a female’s intuition. I just think our smart wives would have caught on if Cara was a phony.”

  Ash checked the truck’s navigation map. “So where is she now?” He studied the various routes in and out of Copper Creek. “If I wanted to hide my crime and dispose of a body without anyone ever finding it, I’d head to the hills right up there”—he touched a spot on the dashboard map—“and find the most isolated spot I could.”

  His voice, carried over the entire network of family phones and police intercoms, declared, “Griff and I are leaving the highway and heading toward the hills. We think that’s the most likely spot a kidnapper would go.”

  Whit’s voice came on instantly. “I agree. In fact, I’m already heading toward the west range. It’s got everything a criminal would want. Wilderness, almost impassible trails, and because of the heavy forestation, little chance of being spotted from the air.”

  He gave a sudden curse when he noted tire tracks in the soft earth where snow had melted. His heart started racing. A vehicle had gone this way, and recently. The tracks were fresh. “I’ve just come across fresh tire tracks in the damp ground. I’m no expert—they could have been made by any sort of vehicle—but I’m betting there weren’t too many visitors to this barren stretch of landscape in the past few hours.”

  Mad’s voice joined in. “Juliet and I are over that area now. We’ll keep a close eye, lad.”

  Willow listened to the others before turning to Brady. “Do you agree with their choice of location?”

  His eyes narrowed in concentration. “I do. But I’m not sure all of us should converge on a single location. If we’re wrong, we could all be in one place while our crook is somewhere else, getting away with the perfect crime.”

  “Not perfect.” Willow’s voice was soft, to mask the pain. “If Myrna lives, we’ll have a witness to what really happened.”

  “That won’t do Cara any good if he succeeds in carrying out his plan for her.”

  “So you believe Cara has been kidnapped?”

  He closed a hand over Willow’s. “I do. Now more than ever.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, as if to block out the fear. “I agree.” Then she turned to him. “Whit spotted tire tracks. That’s enough for me. Hurry, Brady. We need to get there.”

  The foreman turned the wheel and left the dirt road, heading across a flat stretch of MacKenzie land before starting up to the ridge of a high meadow.

  Cara struggled to spot landmarks as the truck continued a slow, steady climb.

  She turned to the surly driver. “Are we still on MacKenzie land?”

  He shot her a dark look and held his silence, breaking it only to mutter a fierce oath as their vehicle jerked over a hidden boulder. For a moment the truck listed to one side, and Cara was unable to stop the momentum that had her sliding across the seat and slamming against him.

  He gave her a rough shove that sent her crashing into the passenger door. Her head jolted against the side window hard enough to make her see stars.

  She shook her head, struggling to clear her brain. Whit had said their ranch was big. But she couldn’t imagine owning this much land. Maybe they’d already left the MacKenzie ranch. Maybe they’d already left the county, for all she knew. The only thing she knew for certain was that this wasn’t the area where she’d met Whit.

  Whit. Had he returned home yet? Had he read that phony confession? Was he cursing her and calling himself every kind of fool for having ever trusted her?

  The thought of hurting Whit, of having him think the worst of her, sent a fresh stab of pain to her already breaking heart.

  While Mad turned the Cessna in a slow circle, Juliet grabbed his arm. “I think I see something.”

  He eased back on the controls, allowing the small plane to slow.

  “There.” She pointed and he followed the direction to catch a beacon of light.

  The old man frowned. “It could be sunlight reflecting off water. Except that there’s no stream in this particular area. The creek and river are up ahead.” He pointed to the binoculars. “I’ll hold steady. You take a closer look.”

  She peered through the binoculars and gave a slow shake of her head. “It’s gone.”

  “Then that could mean movement.” He pointed. “Look ahead or behind and see if you catch something.”

  After several seconds of silence, Juliet grew excited. “There.” She peered intently. “Yes. Sunlight. I think it’s on a windshield. It’s barely visible, but I believe that’s a vehicle moving in an upward direction.” She followed the movement before saying, “Up that hill. Directly into that forest ahead.”

  Mad gave their location and shouted into his speaker, “A vehicle moving up the west ridge. Barely visible through the canopy of trees. Unless I miss my guess, it’s headed toward the high ridge where Copper River meets Copper Creek. Probably the most inhospitable piece of land we own. But a good place for a crime. Now get on it, lads.”

  Ira’s voice crackled over the intercom. “I hope all of you got that.”

  After a jumble of voices, Ira took command. “I’m aboard one of the state police helicopters. We should arrive in six to eight minutes. Whit, where are you?”

  Whit’s tone was rough with emotion. “I’m practically there. Once the copters get close, there’s no chance for surprises, so I’m going to try to slip around to the far side of the ridge and get there ahead of this slimeball.”

  The police chief’s voice remained calm. “Remember this. We still don’t know if Cara Walton is driving the vehicle or if she’s been abducted. Either way, all of you need to be prepared for anything.”

  Whit gritted his teeth and floored the gas pedal as he veered off the trail he’d been following, determined to stop this madness. Ira could say what he wanted. Whit knew in his heart that Cara was being taken against her will. And he was willing to do whatever it took to save her.

  Brady and Willow listened to the directions given by Chief Ira Pettigrew before changing course and heading toward the distant ridge. Ash and Griff did the same.

  Mad and Juliet, from their vantage point in the air, were able to see the movement of ranch trucks converging on the lone truck up ahead.

  Mad turned to Juliet, who was tracking every move through the binoculars. “If the driver gets even a hint that he’s being followed, he could easily kill Cara to keep her quiet.”

  Juliet was trembling with agitation. “I feel so helpless.”

  “Aye, lass.” The old man made a calculated decision. “I’m heading for the ridge, but I’ll aim for the back side of it, to throw the driver off the track. With any luck, there may be enough of a clearing to allow me to land this bird.”

  Above the sound of the truck’s engine, Cara thought she heard something. Sitting very still, she scanned the sky outside the window. Seeing nothing, she decided it was probably only the pounding of her heart. This man was going to a lot of trouble to get her as far from civilization as possible. He’d made no secret of his intention to kill her. What’s more, he intended for his crime to never be discovered. She had to come up with a way to save herself. But her mind was such a jumble of worries, all she could think of was running, as soon as possible. With her wrists bound behind her, she wasn’t even able to reach for the door handle; otherwise, her best bet would have been to leap out while they were
moving. But, she vowed, as soon as he came to a stop and let her out, she would run, regardless of the absolute certainty that he would shoot her in the back rather than let her get away.

  His foot hit the brake pedal. “What the hell?”

  In the silence that followed, he lowered the window and the sound of a plane’s engines could be heard.

  As the minutes dragged on, it became obvious that the plane was drawing closer.

  He put the truck in gear and moved deeper into the woods, where it would be impossible to be seen.

  The plane continued on until the drone of the engines faded.

  The stranger shot Cara a grim smile. “For a minute I was afraid someone might be looking for you. I guess it was just some hotshot rancher checking on his herd. Like I said, why would anybody care about a nobody like you?”

  They rolled forward, deeper into the thick tangle of dark, gloomy woods.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Whit reached the summit and parked his truck in the shelter of a thick cluster of ponderosa pines that completely hid the vehicle from view.

  Keeping to the woods on foot, rifle in hand, he watched the trail below, hoping for a glimpse of the stolen ranch truck bearing Cara and whoever had abducted her.

  Hearing the sound of an approaching vehicle, he took refuge behind the trunk of a giant pine.

  As the truck came into view, his heart nearly stopped when he caught sight of Cara’s pale face peering through the passenger window. In her eyes he could read all the pain, all the terror she was experiencing. Though she blocked his view of the driver, he felt an overwhelming sense of fury at the stranger who had inflicted such pain on the woman he loved.

  The woman he loved.

  That knowledge left him shaken to the core.

  Hadn’t he known ever since meeting Cara Walton that she was different from all the other women he’d known? That she’d touched some special place in his heart that he’d always believed was untouchable? Why had it taken something this dark and dangerous to make him accept the truth?

  He felt a wild surge of emotions. Fear that he wouldn’t be fast enough, or accurate enough, to keep her safe from this monster. Absolute fury at the madman threatening her life. And a fierce sense of protectiveness for this one small woman who had already been through so much pain in her life.

  When the truck halted, Whit’s finger tightened on the trigger. All he needed was one clear shot and this stranger would pay dearly for what he’d done.

  When the truck came to a sudden halt, Cara’s blood started throbbing in her temples. She stared around the vast wilderness and felt so alone.

  Alone, but not helpless, she vowed.

  This was the moment she’d prepared for, and dreaded. As soon as the driver opened her door, she would have to run, no matter what.

  The stranger stepped out of the truck and circled around to the passenger side.

  Cara braced, ready to make good her escape.

  Instead, as he opened the door, he took a firm grasp on her arm, hauling her so roughly from the truck, she lost her balance and fell. He swore and yanked her to her feet, keeping an iron grip on her as he forced her to move along beside him. Though she tried to twist free, he wasn’t about to let her go.

  As they walked, she saw signs of small, freshly dug holes in the ground. They were too small to have been made by a shovel, but they appeared to be deep.

  “What—”

  “None of your business,” he snarled.

  He dragged her forward until they came to a fallen log. Before releasing her, he pressed her forcibly down on the log.

  “Could you at least release my wrists?”

  “Aw, are you feeling uncomfortable?” His tone grew dangerously quiet. “In a few more minutes you won’t feel anything at all.” Kneeling behind her, he reached into his pocket and produced a switchblade. With the press of his finger, it opened and he quickly cut through the plastic restraints.

  As they fell away and Cara began rubbing her bloodied wrists, he leaned close to whisper in her ear, “I’m not doing this for any humane reason, but I need your hands free so you can kill yourself.”

  Her eyes went wide. “What do you—”

  “If anyone ever happens across what remains of your carcass when the wild animals are through with you,” he said with an evil smile, “an autopsy will prove that you actually took your own life. With this gun.”

  He used his handkerchief to wipe the pistol carefully before lifting it and pressing the muzzle to her temple.

  She used that moment to push herself up, ramming the top of her head under his chin, snapping it so hard he could taste blood as a tooth broke after piercing his lip.

  He gave a bellow of rage and fell backward. That was all the time Cara needed to start running.

  Before she’d managed more than a couple of steps, the stranger’s hand tangled in her hair, pulling her back with such force she cried out in pain, her hope of freedom dashed.

  Across the clearing, Whit stepped out of his place of concealment, his rifle aimed at the man. Until now, Cara had blocked his chance for a clear shot of her abductor. But now, as he took aim, the man spotted him and quickly wrapped an arm around Cara’s throat, pressing his pistol to her temple.

  “Now you have two choices,” the figure behind Cara called. “Drop your weapon, or, if you decide to be a hero, you can take that one-in-a-million chance of shooting me before I manage to blow her away. You willing to gamble on her life?”

  “Let her go.” Whit dropped his rifle. “Kill me instead.”

  “I have a better idea. I’ll just kill two for the price of one.” The man laughed at his little joke as he pushed Cara ahead of him until he was close enough to kick the rifle aside.

  Whit made an audible gasp when, for the first time, he was able to see the man’s face.

  “Lance? Lance McMillan? What the hell…?”

  At Cara’s blank look, Whit said, “This is the son of my father’s trusted lawyer and one of his oldest friends. He’s also our family lawyer since his father retired. What is this all about, Lance?”

  The lawyer kept a firm grasp on Cara’s neck, his arm wrapped around it so tightly he was cutting off her breath, while his pistol was pressed painfully against her temple.

  Leaning close he said, “If you get any more clever ideas about running, it’ll be the last idea you ever have.” He looked over at Whit. “And if you’re thinking about being a hero, just remember that you’ll be the cause of the lady’s sudden demise. I can pull this trigger faster than you can move.”

  “Why, Lance? What am I missing here? Why would a successful lawyer resort to criminal activity?” Whit demanded.

  “I wouldn’t expect a guy who shovels manure and tends fat, stupid cows for a living to understand. I realized years ago that there was a better way to live than to shuffle documents for rich old men who called themselves friends of my father. Hell, my father had no ambition beyond doing their bidding, driving clear across Montana to draw up wills and land purchase agreements and be invited along on their hunting and fishing trips as his reward. I’ll choose my own rewards, thank you very much. And I prefer my private plane and pilot, my new car, my million-dollar house in Billings, and my own hunting lodge, where I’m the host, not the guest.”

  “And you got all this by stealing?”

  “Let’s just say I decided to forge my own path instead of following my father’s advice to earn everything the old-fashioned way.”

  “Yeah.” Whit took a step closer, watching for any opportunity to get close enough to attack. “Why work for it when you can steal what others worked so hard for?”

  “Now you get it.” Lance gave a chilling laugh. “Like old Abe.”

  Whit’s head came up. “You killed him? For his land?”

  “Not just land. I needed to be assured that he’d retained mineral rights to his land. I had some soil borings done. The old geezer was sitting on acres of gold-rich land.”

  Cara
’s eyes widened. “Is that the reason for those holes we just passed? Soil borings?”

  Whit looked from Cara to Lance. “You’ve had soil borings done on MacKenzie land? Why?”

  “When I took over my father’s work, I learned that your father and grandfather retained all the mineral rights to their land. More than a year ago, I hired a private firm to do some work in secret. To see if I’ve…inherited more than just wilderness.”

  “Inherited?” Whit’s blood started heating as the implications of what Lance was revealing began to register.

  “I guess you haven’t put it all together yet. Too much for a stupid cowboy to ponder, is it?”

  “That’s the second time you’ve called me stupid.” Whit inched closer. “Since you seem fixated on your brilliance, why don’t you fill in this stupid cowboy?”

  Lance’s head lifted. His chest expanded. It was obvious that Whit had tapped into his source of pride. “Since I was a kid, I’ve watched all these wealthy ranchers work like dogs, fighting the weather, the predators, determined to protect their precious cattle, when all along, the true value isn’t what’s being fed by the land, but what’s beneath it. So I decided I’d use my brains to my advantage and get my hands on as much land as I could.”

  “Even if it meant killing a few hard-working ranchers along the way?” Whit’s eyes narrowed. “So you needed to get rid of Cara, the only witness to your threat against old Abe. But if there were other victims, won’t you have to eliminate any witnesses to those crimes as well?”

  “I’m too smart to leave witnesses. That’s why I had to shoot the old biddy at your place.”

  “Myrna. A sweet lady you’ve known for a lifetime. And you did it without an ounce of regret?”

 

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