by DiAnn Mills
Dear Mr. Sullivan,
It has been brought to our attention that you are being investigated for three homicides found on your property. I’m sure you will understand the necessity of our stance in this grave matter.
Carr shook his head at the bad pun before he continued reading.
Until the situation is resolved, we cannot endorse your application for the facility housing and rehabilitating at-risk teen boys. In addition we cannot offer financial assistance. We wish you success with your endeavor.
“Cowards.” He resisted the urge to crumple the letter in his fists. They couldn’t pick up the phone and talk about the crimes that had taken place on his property.
He inwardly groaned, feeling like he’d been kicked in the teeth. What good did it do him to have these thousands of acres if he couldn’t use them for the glory of God? The bunkhouse had already been renovated with a full, new kitchen to accommodate twenty boys. He’d received estimates to construct a building that would house an auditorium and game area. He’d walked an area beside the proposed auditorium for an Olympic-size swimming pool and basketball court. Now it all was put on hold.
The whole ugly mess regarding the murders made him want to sink his fist into the wall. He wouldn’t, but the temptation made his fingers tingle.
Lydia appeared in the doorway. “I heard you pound your desk, so I thought I’d check on you.”
“Did I?” He lifted a brow. “Must have affected me worse than I thought.”
“What?”
“Oh, the endorsement and funding from my denomination has been withdrawn. I’ll need to contact the psychologist we hired, the physical activities director, and the teacher.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. So they canceled everything?”
“No, they need the situation resolved, which isn’t that bad. Can’t blame them in the least. Who wants a killer attempting to rehabilitate the hope of the future?”
“I’m sure it will get back on track once the investigation reveals who is responsible.” Lydia slipped into a chair across from him. “Aren’t Bella or Vic any closer to solving the crimes?”
“Haven’t seen Vic, and if Bella has made progress, she hasn’t let on.”
“What did you and I talk about before all of this began?”
“Pleasant things. And we debated our political differences.”
“And quite adamantly, as I remember.” Lydia smiled, and it coaxed one from him. “Our discussions made Jasper nervous.”
“I believe, given the choice, he’d rather have our politics on the forefront than what’s there now.” He stuffed the rejection letter into the envelope and dropped it into a desk drawer. “Bella and I are going riding early in the morning.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. She looks pale and tired, and the ride should relax her.”
“I’m taking her to the butte and back. Won’t be long.” He studied Lydia’s face. “Do you think that’s a mistake?”
“The butte provides the best view of a beautiful sunrise. It was breathtaking before the killings and will continue to bless us.”
Good. “My thoughts too.”
“She’s a good match for you—sweet when she needs to be sweet and firm when the occasion arises.”
“Hadn’t thought about it that much.”
Lydia laid her hand on the desktop. “The first step is admitting there’s a crisis of the heart.”
He laughed. “Her confession about living here must have gotten to you. You’re a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“I’m a woman, remember?” She rose from the chair. “Seriously, I’m sorry about the letter. I’m praying for all of this to end and bring our lives back to normal. God wants you to learn from the tragedies, but I have no idea what or why.”
“Jasper and I discussed the same. The only path forward is to trust God and realize He wants the best for me.”
Lydia left him alone, but restlessness filled him. The silence that usually blessed him with peace now thundered in his ears. He had plenty to do outside. Anything beat trying to outguess God.
He rubbed his fist in his hand. He wanted to help those boys, show at-risk teens how to follow Jesus and be real men. Disappointment cut through him like a bolt of lightning. If God had something better in store, then he sure wished He would give him a preview.
Chapter 23
After searching her hotel room like someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder for anything Brandt might have done or left behind, Bella washed her face and resolved to shake off the reality of the stalking demon. Trained professionals used their training, not their scarred pasts. This wasn’t the time to allow emotions of any kind to take precedence over her assignment.
She scrolled through her e-mails, looking for the report about Stanton and Mair Warick. And there it was. She clicked on the message and fixed her eyes on every word. Once she finished the report, she stood from the chair and walked to the window. Rubbing the chill bumps from her arms, she mentally fit a corner piece into the crime picture.
Mair left the country with Brandt twelve years ago. She’d been seen last in Rio de Janeiro as well as Peru. Recent findings revealed the woman now went under the name of Lynne Michaels and had successfully dodged the FBI’s radar.
Peru . . . as in the source of the poison that killed Darren Adams.
When Bella had read the report in Houston, she’d skimmed over the information about Brandt’s leaving the U.S. twelve years ago with a woman. She hadn’t probed to find out the woman’s name, and neither did she have the foresight to deepen the research. After all, the woman had disappeared. According to the original report, Brandt and the woman had parted company a few years ago. Bella had allowed her personal feelings to get in the way of the investigation.
Vic had been right. So right. Shame filled her for what she’d failed to do or accomplish with this assignment. No wonder Brandt had successfully implemented his plan.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
As of right now, Bella’s method of investigation was changing.
Bella’s siblings were being raised by a selfish animal—their father. Stanton Warick could have killed all of those victims on Carr’s ranch, including Darren. He currently worked as a foreman on a cattle ranch, where he lived with his children. His record was clean of arrests or suspicions, except for a DUI after Mair left him.
She picked up her cell phone and pressed in Tiffany Adams’s number. The woman answered on the first ring.
“Hi, Tiffany, this is Bella Jordan. I’m sorry to bother you, but a recent development has come to my attention.”
“What . . . what is it?” The woman’s voice shattered. “Have you found out who poisoned Darren?”
“I’m getting closer. Are you okay?”
“Some days are better than others. It’s all part of the process. We’re all grieving, and each of us has our own way of showing it. I want to help you, so please ask what you need.”
“Did Darren ever mention Stanton Warick?”
“Darren didn’t talk work with me. He was afraid it would upset me, a habit he started years ago. But the name sounds familiar. Hold on a minute.”
Bella waited while Tiffany asked whoever was nearby if the name Stanton Warick was familiar.
“Agent Jordan? I just asked my sons about the name. They said two boys with the name of Warick are basketball rivals from a neighboring high school.”
Bella scolded herself for trembling. “Ty and Alex?”
Tiffany repeated the names, and Bella heard a young man respond affirmatively.
“Do they know if the boys are often in trouble with the law?”
Tiffany posed the question, and Bella waited again.
“Neither of them thinks so. In fact, Ty was a junior high counselor at church camp last summer.”
Bella’s stomach did a flip. Maybe one of the kids had come through this okay. “Thanks so much. If anything comes to mind about the Waricks, would you call me?”
Bella disc
onnected the call and laid the phone beside her laptop. She reread her father’s background check. Brandt had broken up her father’s marriage. Mair had deserted her four children and left them with Stanton. As though her father knew anything about rearing kids. Could he and Brandt possibly have mended their differences with Mair absent from the picture? What if the two of them were leading her brothers and sister down the same greedy path? Maybe not Ty.
The longer she peered at the screen, the more she faced the ugly truth about herself. As soon as she finished her ride with Carr in the morning, she planned to take a drive to see her brothers and sister. Destiny had arrived. Why had she waited? Fear? Selfishness? Did she think by ignoring them, her family would disappear? Regret rippled through her for ignoring those who needed her. What Aunt Debbie had done for her, she could do for them. It would be hard, but investing in the future of her siblings was the least she could do. If she faced the truth head-on, she realized she needed them as much as they needed her.
Stanton Warick. His parting words had been a threat, and she hadn’t forgotten a single word. But hadn’t she claimed courage a long time ago? The analyst’s report had an address and a phone number for her father. She wrapped her fingers around her cell phone and took another thirty seconds to gather strength. Her heart sped up to match her thoughts. Finally she pressed in the numbers. A young man answered on the second ring.
“Ty?”
“No. This is Alex.”
She swallowed her nervousness. “This is Rachel. Your sister.”
“Hey. Dad said you went by Bella now.”
“I do. Are y’all going to be around tomorrow late morning? I’d like to stop by and see you.”
“Awesome. What time’s good? We’ll be here.”
“Great. Ten thirty sounds good.” Bella moistened her dry lips. She’d been less shaken when criminals were shooting at her.
“Can’t wait. We’ve been following the investigation. You rock, Sister.”
Bella forced a chuckle while too many thoughts chased through her mind about how and why her siblings were following the case. She ended the call and drank in several deep breaths.
After working through the rest of her e-mails, Bella opened a message from Aunt Debbie. Oh, how she needed to hear the voice of her dear aunt, even if it was in an e-mail. She didn’t dare call, or she’d cry, and then Aunt Debbie would find her way to Abilene. That would never do. Bella could only imagine the life her brothers and sister had spent with their father, knowing their mother had left them for a fugitive.
The subject of the message read, A long dog’s night.
Hi, Bella!
The longer you are on this case, the longer I spend time on my knees. I find myself remembering the years when you first came to me, the frightened and determined fifteen-year-old, and the fine woman you’ve become.
Everything here is okay, but I had a bad night. The cat somehow got into the house, and you know how I despise cats in the house. Can’t sleep right knowing those sneaky little varmints are prowling about. Anyway, the cat must have decided to get even with my banishing her to the outside. She did her business in the bathroom—at least she had the right room. I woke up to a frightful smell and had to chase her around the house three times before I could catch her. Then I had to clean up the mess before I could go back to sleep.
Shortly after midnight, Rockefeller decided if the cat could enlist her free spirit, it was okay for him too.
It wasn’t.
I sent him to his kennel. About four o’clock, Rockefeller’s crying got the best of me, so I got up and let him out. We talked. Everybody is happy again.
I know you can’t tell me everything about the case, but can you fudge a little and fill in some of the details for this middle-aged lady who’s glued to the news? I’m ready to set the media straight about their bizarre accusations.
Have you seen your dad, Mair, or your brothers and sister?
Love,
Your zany aunt Debbie
“Tomorrow, I will have much to report,” Bella whispered.
Chapter 24
“So how soon after the papers are filed can we get in and dig?” Brandt fired one question after another at Aros on the other end of the phone. This needed to be wrapped up soon and completed according to every letter of the law.
Brandt had the map, and three members of the team had located the entrance when Brandt had eliminated them from the equation. If the three hadn’t wasted so much time, he would have the gold by now.
“Told you, I have a plan,” Aros said.
“I’m paying you, not the other way around. What is this foolproof plan? Because I haven’t seen anything that’s helping the cause.”
The man blew an exasperated sigh into the phone. Brandt let him huff and puff all he wanted. He had a special reward for him.
“The plan, Aros. Now.”
“Okay, but I deserve a bigger cut after you find out about this one. Sullivan learned about his church’s denomination stopping the funding and support for his project to help teen boys. I’m going to call him about the progress with the investigation and lead into church business. When he gives me his sad story, I’m going to suggest he might be the next target. With a little persuasion, I think he’ll will his land to the church. We’ll then have the land and the mineral rights. With my current responsibilities at the church, I’ll make sure we get our hands on what we need.”
“You’d better make sure it’s done right.”
“Don’t worry, Brandt. The—”
“Do not use my name.” Hatred for the weasel who thought he was indispensable nearly cost Brandt his composure.
“Sure. I forgot. Let me remind you how often you use mine. Like I started to say, the locals who attend this church have put their trust in God first and me second.”
“I’m not so believing.”
“You will be. The gold is almost in our hands.”
My hands.
Chapter 25
“I realized this morning that you’ve seen more sunrises in West Texas than I have.” Carr handed Bella a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee. He’d slept little last night in anticipation of sharing his favorite time of the day with her. In truth, he was concerned about her welfare and the lack of help from Vic.
“But I haven’t seen them on horseback.” She lifted the mug to her lips. “This coffee is fabulous.”
“Thanks. In my old days, I was known as a coffee snob.” He shrugged. “Guess I still am.”
“I’m glad it carried over from city to country.”
He stole a glance at the jean-clad woman, the freshness of morning still on her face, beauty as perfect as God created in Eve.
“Mr. Sullivan.” Bella laughed.
He raised a brow.
“Thank you.”
“Oops. I need to watch my transparency. Let’s take our coffee to the stable and get saddled up. Any longer in the house, and I’ll be in trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Yeah. I can’t be trusted with a pretty woman.”
“Is this the man who was furious with me yesterday?”
“The same.”
“Have you forgotten who I am?”
“Not at all. It’s Saturday. Time to take a break.”
She didn’t reply, and he realized she intended to work as hard today as any other.
Within a short while, the horses were saddled and ready. When Carr reached for a rifle, she asked him to leave it.
“I have my firearm. We’ll be okay,” she said. “Nothing personal. You know I believe in your innocence.”
“How am I supposed to defend the lady from wild animals? You know—lions, tigers, and bears?”
“We women today are independent creatures. I’ll take care of you. And you have your portable radio and cell phone.”
He tapped them, both clipped to his belt. “Uh, where is your weapon?”
She lifted the left leg of her jeans to reveal an ankle holster.
C
arr chuckled. What else could he say? The pair rode out across the field toward the butte and the rising sun.
Bella gasped, and he followed her gaze to the eastern sky. “If I did see a sunrise this beautiful, I don’t remember it. It’s as if a huge bonfire has ignited the sky.”
“No matter how late I’m up the night before, I’ve got to see the sun bring in the day over the horizon.” A couple of the questions about her entered his mind. “This case must be a hard one. I mean personally.”
“That’s a delicate way to put it.” Her voice was devoid of emotion.
“How did you survive without your parents?”
“My mother died when I was three.”
“Okay, how did you elevate yourself from a fifteen-year-old runaway to a respected member of the FBI?”
“My mother’s sister took me in. She gave me more love and nurturing than I’d received since my mother died. Aunt Debbie legally adopted me, and I took on her name.”
“I’ve heard you mention her. So you’re still close?”
“Oh yes. My aunt is quite the character. She loves animals, and she has this rather eccentric and sometimes bizarre outlook on life.”
For the next several minutes, Carr listened to Bella expound on one hilarious tale after another about Aunt Debbie. “I’d like to meet her,” he finally said.
“You’d be entertained, and you’d love her,” Bella said. “She’s a humor writer for a Christian women’s magazine and on staff for a family-oriented sitcom.”
“Are you a Christian?” Surely an aunt who wrote for Christian media had influenced her niece for the same.
“My aunt would like to think so.”
“I see.” Another topic for them to talk about once this was over.
“I have a question for you.”
“Religious or otherwise?”
She laughed. “Both. Your pastor, Kent Matthews—does he do routine counseling?”
“Sure. Young and old. He was a psychologist before becoming a pastor. Why?”