by DiAnn Mills
Carr’s stolen rifle lay in the corner of the stall.
Chapter 13
Bella instructed Carr and Jasper not to touch the rifle. She tugged on her gloves, then carried the weapon to her car to transport later for prints. She’d been in this same stall yesterday, and nothing had been there but a pile of loose hay and the lingering odor of horse. The rifle had been planted as if the FBI were a group of children playing a game of hide-and-seek. She blew out an exasperated sigh. The likelihood of anyone’s fingerprints but Carr’s being on the rifle was slim. So why would the killer go to this length to frustrate all concerned, except to prove he could?
Today’s incident sounded like Brandt was up to his old tricks of control and maneuver, as though the investigators were marionettes. She sure would like to be the one to handcuff him. Had he arranged Sheriff Adams’s untimely death? Most likely so. Daredevil Adams must have stumbled onto something that pointed to the killer, but what?
Piece it all together. The answers are there. She had to keep looking at it from different perspectives. Think like a criminal. Where does his motivation lead him? She had to wear his head. Feel with his cold heart. Walk where he stalked.
* * *
“I’ve read and reread online what I could find about the Spider Rock treasure,” Carr said, without an attempt to hide the aggravation in his voice. “So the killer is after the treasure, which means the three victims knew or found something that resulted in their deaths.” He stared out the window of his library and continued to voice his thoughts to Bella and Vic, who had arrived around noon. “But none of the past searches or findings indicate the gold could be on the High Butte. Nothing in the rock etchings lead here. Period.”
Bella crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s compare notes, because we’re missing something. I’m familiar with the indecipherable maps, and like you, I agree the idea of the gold on your ranch is against anything the legend claims.”
Carr turned to face the two agents. Since he and Bella had returned from riding across his acreage, they’d discussed and explored possibilities with nothing making sense. Vic had joined them in the library but had merely listened.
“One story is that the gold originated with Francisco Pizarro, a Spanish soldier-explorer who landed in the New World in search of wealth for Spain,” Carr said. “He had this insatiable thirst for gold, which led him to barbaric treatment of the Incas to attain their wealth. One of his captains became greedy for the treasure and convinced some of his soldiers to steal a portion of it. They hightailed it north from Peru, up through Mexico to the current Texas panhandle in search of safety. Who knows why they hid the treasure? Could be the Indians stalked them. The captain is the one who supposedly made the original spiderweb map and then burned it onto parchment with charcoal.”
“That’s a whole lot more than what I know.” Vic lifted a glass of iced tea to his lips. “You know, Bella. It would have been nice if you’d waited for me before you took the ranch tour. Not really smart to examine a crime scene with a suspect.”
Bella raised her glass as if to toast him. “I believe you did the same yesterday with one of the deputies. But point well taken.”
Vic offered a faint smile. More like a smirk. “Touché.”
These two did not mix. Carr had questioned their compatibility the previous day: young female lead agent working with a seasoned veteran.
“What did you observe yesterday?” she said.
“I’ve searched the perimeter of the butte three times, and I have yet to see any indication of digging or carved rock. My theory is Professor Miller signed Spider Rock in the dirt because he knew he no longer would have an opportunity to search for it.”
Carr didn’t share the same mind-set, but he needed to hear their viewpoints.
“Carr and I must have read the same information,” Bella said. “The soldiers loaded forty mules or llamas, depending on the source of history, of gold and silver for the trek north. A priest, who carried his Bible, also accompanied them. Maybe so God would bless their endeavor. The men disappeared along with any traces of how to read the map. I don’t think contemporary experts ever learned which came first—the parchment map or the rock etchings.”
Carr picked up several printed pages about the Spider Rock legend and handed them to Vic. “The three Spider Rock locations formed a triangle of sorts, stretching from Aspermont near the Brazos River to Clyde and Rotan.”
“Our killer may have deciphered how to read the signs and lines that supposedly lead to the treasure,” Vic said. “It’s amazing how all of modern technology hasn’t been able to figure it out. The soldier who drew the map had to be a genius.” Sarcasm ignited his last phrase.
Bella paced the library. “Oh, I think the treasure was dug up long ago, and the one who found it kept it to himself. He’d probably seen enough men killed.”
“Possibly. But the three victims on my ranch obviously believed in the legend.” Carr wished one of them could tie the treasure and his ranch into one package. He peered first into Vic’s face and then into Bella’s, capturing her gaze. For a fleeting moment, a peculiar twinge settled in his stomach. He assumed it was the talk of treasure.
“Definitely they met with the curse,” she added.
The three had worked together too many hours and needed rest. Carr cleared his throat. “I’m not superstitious, but this almost makes a believer out of me. Look at how history depicts the lives of those who tried to find it. In the twentieth century alone, men were murdered, lost their families, died penniless, and some even went crazy looking for it. Sounds like a curse to me.”
Vic paused from taking notes. “You two sure have spent a lot of time working on this aspect of the case. However, I’ve been doing a little researching on my own.” He eyed Bella curiously. “Did your family search for the gold?”
“Doesn’t everyone out here?”
“I don’t know, which is why I asked you.” Vic’s tone sharpened.
Carr sensed the conversation was again propelling in an antagonistic direction. Darren would have nipped this unprofessionalism at the root.
Bella smiled, and Carr silently cheered her on. “I believe I told you I was selected for this assignment because I’m from the area.”
Vic nodded with a slight sneer. “Indeed you did.”
Not a muscle moved on Bella’s face. “Are you looking to take over the lead in this investigation?”
“If I wanted it, I could have it.”
“Okay now.” Carr interrupted the silence thick enough to cut with a machete. “This treasure talk makes me want to find out what Lydia knows. Recorded legends and locals’ opinions sometimes conflict.”
“Sounds good,” Bella said. “What do you think, Vic?”
“I have things to do. I’ll call you later. Want to drive home to see the wife and grandkids for the weekend.”
“Be safe and enjoy. See you Monday morning.”
“Right. I’ll check in on Sunday night.”
Carr couldn’t ignore what he’d witnessed between Vic and Bella, even if none of it was his call. Vic said his good-byes and left them alone in the library.
Bella pressed her lips together in a thin smile. “Maybe he needs a good dose of family to sweeten his disposition.”
Or a five-pound bag of sugar. “Let’s go find Lydia.”
Lydia sat in the shaded courtyard reading, seemingly engrossed. Carr wished she’d give up the suspense novels until this was over. Whatever happened to women reading romance?
Bella and Carr seated themselves on the comfortable patio furniture in vivid Southwest colors of red and gold, much like the area sunsets. He did love his home. Had he really appreciated the beauty before the tragedies?
“What can you tell us about the Spider Rock treasure?” Carr said. “We’ve read online information, and I’ve ordered a book about the history of the legend.”
Lydia lifted a finger to silence them and finished reading a page. She inserted a bookmark and closed
the book. “I thought you two were researching that information.”
“We are,” Carr continued. “But we’d like to hear your take. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of stories through the years.”
Lydia’s eyes widened, but he saw the smile. “I’m sixty-seven, not a hundred and seven. But I’ve heard rumors and the like.”
“Like what?”
“Since I haven’t seen proof, all I can do is repeat the stories.”
“I want to hear it all,” Bella said.
Lydia took a deep breath and tilted her head. “This may sound bizarre to you, but you asked. Ancient Indian ghosts who haunt the seekers. Men and women who disappear. Dreams that become obsessions and drive men to murder—even their own families.”
Carr could easily believe the latter. He glanced at Bella, who seemed to agree.
“Many times in an investigation, friends and neighbors know more than we do,” Bella said. “I ignored much of what I heard when I lived here, so I’m no help.”
“Let’s see.” Lydia hesitated. “I’ve been told some of the families who’ve found Spanish relics hoard them, passing them from generation to generation and not revealing their finds to anyone. A lot of superstition layers these tales too. I imagine if all of the finds were laid out, the treasure could be found.” Carr thought she’d finished; then she focused on him. “I’ve heard rumors the treasure is buried here on the High Butte. But you already figured that out.”
“Do you know the source?”
“This could be a key to what’s happening in your community,” Bella said.
“Hmm. I’d have to ask around. There’s supposed to be an old man in Junction—older than dirt—who believes the clues point to the gold buried in Runnels County. He’s done quite a bit of research.”
Carr chuckled at Lydia’s description of the old man.
“I imagine you’ve heard of Brandt Richardson,” Bella said.
Lydia’s eyes snapped up to meet first Carr’s, then Bella’s. “Yes. He’s one of those who’s obsessed with finding the treasure. No one has seen him for a long time since authorities are after him for murder.”
“Do you know who was the last to see him?” Bella said.
“Not really. About twelve years ago, he broke up a marriage west of here. The woman left her husband and kids for him. At the time, the husband swore to kill him and didn’t mind letting folks know about it. Then about eight years ago, Richardson surfaced again and supposedly hired a killer to get rid of a couple of treasure hunters. But most of us believed he’d done his own dirty work.”
Richardson had his fingers in several pots—from stealing wives from their families to murder. Darren must have uncovered evidence to end up dead. “Nothing since?”
“No.” Lydia’s long silver earrings bounced against her cheeks.
Carr stood from his chair. “Don’t discuss another interesting fact. I want a bottle of water. Oh, I’ll get three.”
* * *
Bella watched Carr disappear inside the house. A sweet breeze cooled her face, temporarily alleviating the gravity of the circumstances before her. How pleasant to sit and enjoy the beautiful home with the sounds of nature to pacify the chaos surrounding the community. She turned and smiled at Lydia. What a dear lady.
“About fourteen years ago,” Lydia said, “I remember a young girl from this area disappeared. Ballinger News and other local papers covered the story and printed her picture. Her parents feared something horrible had happened to her. The girl was on every prayer list in the state. Then the story faded into oblivion for the next local excitement.”
Bella kept her composure, but inside, where the demons of yesterday clawed at the mask of today, the gnawing fear of being recognized surfaced. “Interesting. Anyone ever find her?”
Lydia’s dark eyes bored into Bella’s soul. “Not back then.”
All the training and self-control, all the martial arts and target practice, and her desire to forget the past and leave it behind didn’t stop the fragmenting of emotions. “What would you have me say?”
“Say? I don’t know. Why did you take this assignment?”
“It’s my job.”
“Or your destiny. God has brought you home for a reason, but I don’t think you realize it.”
“God and I aren’t on good terms. Never have been.”
“Doesn’t stop Him from pursuing you.”
Lydia sounded like Aunt Debbie. “Not interested. If He remotely resembles my own father, then I’ll pass.”
“Anyone ever talk to you about God?”
“My aunt took me with her to church and made sure I learned all about Christianity. But I’d already formed my own opinion.”
“I see. Are you happy?”
No. Not really.
“No need to answer, Bella. I see the misery in your eyes.”
The door from the kitchen opened, and Carr returned with the bottles of water and a pitcher of lemonade.
“Thanks.” She turned to Carr. “I’ll take the water and a rain check on the lemonade. I need to run a few errands before I set off for Abilene.”
Carr set the pitcher on a small table. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
His gesture warmed her despite the uneasiness with what Lydia knew about her. Carr would find out soon enough, but not right now. “That’s all right. You’re ready to relax.”
“But I’m a gentleman.”
Yes, he was. Once they were outside and walking toward her car in the intense heat, reality snagged her again. “Do you understand why I keep returning to your ranch?”
“Sure do. Three men were murdered here, and your job is to find the killer.”
Does he really understand? “You are a suspect along with Brandt Richardson.” She said the words slowly, deliberately. “And you might hit the charts again once the autopsy report is in for Darren.”
“Don’t think my status with the FBI is anything I’ve forgotten.” Carr snapped the words like a crack of thunder. “The sooner you realize I’m on the side of the law, the sooner you’ll be able to find the real killer.”
Bella allowed his anger to settle before she responded. Given the same situation, she’d be worried about the future and testy too. She considered telling him the truth about herself, even more than what Lydia knew. Wait. Vic thinks Carr is involved, and he has twenty years of experience. But her gut feeling was that he was innocent. If she learned later he’d murdered those men, then she’d need to resign.
“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 att
itude.”
“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.