by DiAnn Mills
If she were completely honest with herself, she’d admit that love was an antidote for the ugliness of the world, a euphoria that seemed bathed in tender glances. Without the Divine working in her life, she’d never have accepted what Carr meant to her. How incredibly beautiful.
Wesley drove over the bridge at Elm Creek and past the Ballinger bakery and café that boasted of wireless Internet. Distant and familiar at the same time. They passed the courthouse, a yellow rock building with a statue of Charles H. Noyes on the front lawn—whoever he was. Across the street was a sandwich shop where, before her trip to the hospital, she and Carr had enjoyed a fabulous lunch—back before she admitted her feelings for him. Deputy Roano, now the acting sheriff, preferred the Tex-Mex food at Alejandras restaurant. He and Carr had fussed about it. Carr won.
Outside the town, a huge cross had been erected on a hill after she’d left the area fourteen years ago. It stood symbolically for who and what she’d become.
Wesley drove past the sheriff’s department, a one-story stone building with a metal roof, across the street from the United Methodist Spanish mission. The shopping district was sparse with most of the buildings reminiscent of the turn of the twentieth century downtown. Wesley’s phone rang, interrupting her reverie.
“Would you believe that was Lydia?” Wesley palmed the steering wheel and laughed. “She needs milk and bananas. So you two get an escort to the Shoppin’ Baskit.”
The three made a quick stop for the grocery items, and Carr bought a dozen chocolate chip cookies. The locals stared, but Bella didn’t care. In fact, she enjoyed every minute of their short excursion. Back in the car, they made their way through the little town en route to the High Butte.
“You’re looking at this town as though you’d never seen it before,” Carr said.
“Is that why I’m getting a tour? Actually, I don’t think I ever paid much attention when I was younger.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“New eyes and rose-colored glasses.” She meant her faith, but as soon as the words were spoken, she understood both men had assumed something else.
“If I reached over to hold your hand, would I get slapped?” Carr said.
“You have to obtain my permission,” Wesley said. “Rose-colored glasses or not. The law is the law.”
“Might have to write you up. Damaging government property is a federal offense,” Bella said. “I’m sure there’s some sort of protocol.” She recalled his tenderness when she’d been shot. But until the murderer was arrested, she’d keep her heart intact. “While I was in the hospital, I did a lot of thinking about the case.”
“Before or after Mair called you?”
“Both. I’ve already told Frank this, but now I’m tossing my thoughts your way too.” She took a deep breath, pushing aside their lightheartedness. “More players have to be involved in this besides Brandt and my dad. My guess: two others are working with him, doing his dirty work.”
“Any idea who?” Carr said.
She smiled. “Not you. But I want to spend the afternoon rereading the books and Web sites about the Spider Rock treasure. I also want to talk to Lydia. She mentioned some things I should have followed up on.” She stared out the window as both sides of the road gave way to pasture. “Actually, I was planning to dive deeper into her comments, but someone decided to stop my progress. Or rather, the task force’s progress.”
“Finally you agree we’re a team.”
“I’m in on that,” Wesley called from the front seat. “Not a day passes that I don’t think about Uncle Darren and his dedication to enforcing the law. I want all of those guys found today.”
We all do. The day had arrived when she no longer had to face Brandt Richardson or her father alone. Bella thought of her siblings and hoped they hadn’t gone too far astray. The boys might very well be candidates for Carr’s home for at-risk teens.
“What is Richardson’s background?” Wesley said. “What makes a guy do anything for a chance at some lost treasure?”
Bella sorted through all that had been discovered about Brandt. “He had good parents, the middle child of a suburban couple in Houston. Made good grades until he reached junior high. Then he jumped into puberty, and behavior problems erupted, much of which were attributed to the middle child syndrome of wanting attention. Parents placed him in counseling, and soon after, he was diagnosed as bipolar. Medication and counseling helped, but once he reached his midteens, he refused to take the prescription or have blood work done. However, other areas of his life improved. He gave up smoking, didn’t do drugs, and managed a four point in high school. He joined track and earned a scholarship to college. Still he remained a loner but stayed out of trouble. Once he graduated from college, he broke contact with his parents and family. None have heard from him since.”
“A decent kid who went bad,” Wesley said.
“Oh, I think the psychology was there all along,” Bella said. “Just because he didn’t act on his tendencies when he was younger doesn’t mean he didn’t want to.”
“I certainly don’t understand the workings of the criminal mind like I should,” Wesley continued. “But I will. I owe Uncle Darren that much.”
“Give yourself some time. However—” she glanced at Carr—“sometimes first impressions are not the most reliable.”
Chapter 39
Carr wanted Bella’s undivided attention before he talked to her about his conversation with Stanton Warick. She needed to get settled in the downstairs guest room and rest. Lydia suggested a nap, and to Carr’s amazement, Bella agreed. Although she’d been released from the hospital, she looked too pale to him. No point in upsetting her, and relaying his meeting with Warick would definitely agitate her.
Carr viewed the reformed man with muddled feelings. Warick had convincingly told his story of shame and rehabilitation and how the church and county social services helped him become the father his children needed. But had Carr swallowed a mass of lies? Where would he be if others had not given him an opportunity to prove his convictions?
But what if Carr had been led down a path of deceit? What if Warick’s pleas for help to make sure Bella was safe, relieved of her current assignment, and reconciled with her father and siblings were a ploy? Ty seemed like a good kid, but he could have learned the art of deceit from an excellent teacher.
The worst scenario came with Warick and Richardson working together to find the lost treasure and destroying any evidence of their involvement. That also meant eliminating some members of the task force.
Tomorrow he and Kent planned a visit to the Warick family. The boys all worked on the ranch where they lived, and the girl had a babysitting job in Ballinger. The only time to visit was late at night or early morning. Kent and Carr chose morning, and they’d be bringing Lydia’s homemade breakfast burritos. He kept the information to himself, which meant he kept his plans from Frank, too. That man had feelings for Bella—something Carr would deal with when the murderer was arrested.
The house had given him claustrophobia, or rather his concerns had caused his mind to reach explosive stage. He needed to get outside and work off his stress.
In the stable, Carr stuck the pitchfork into another pile of wet and matted straw. He emptied it into a wheelbarrow and thrust the pitchfork into the dirty straw again. Cleaning out stalls was a perpetual chore, always out with the filth and in with the clean. Where did Warick fit into the purposefulness of life? Carr sure wished he had the answers.
* * *
Bella drifted in and out of sleep. The trip from the hospital to the High Butte was harder on her than she’d ever admit. Finally she forced herself to stay awake and check text messages on her phone. At least that part of civilization was available here.
Her cell phone buzzed with a text message. With sleep-laden eyes she read the words: Call me at this number. Vic.
She picked up the landline on her nightstand and pressed in the number on the text.
“This is Bella.�
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“Thanks for getting back to me.”
Immediately her senses were sharpened. “How are you doing?”
“Pretty good. Taking each day at a time. I heard you’re recovering okay.”
“Sure. What can I do for you?”
“Something about the case keeps bothering me.”
“I remember when you said you’d found evidence, but I never heard a thing. I also wondered if you’d followed up on Lexie Bronson—the bartender in Abilene.”
“She’s clean. Doesn’t know a thing. Anyway, my mind’s been in a daze worrying about my wife.”
“I understand. How is she?”
“Spending more time sleeping. That’s what she’s doing now, so I thought I’d call. The appointed sheriff, uh—”
“Roano?”
“That’s him. I overheard a phone call that led me to believe he might be working with Richardson. Something about ‘having more money to spend soon’ and ‘making sure Sullivan got his due.’”
Bella recalled the many times Roano had sworn to find evidence to convict Carr . . . and the black eye. “I’ll get on it. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
She disconnected the call and phoned Pete at FIG. Vic’s observation could mean nothing—or everything.
* * *
Carr and Kent drove onto the Circle D Ranch at dawn and followed Carr’s directions to the Warick home. The one-story rock and frame home had recently been painted, and the roof looked new. Two dust-covered, older model trucks sat in front of a single garage. All looked quiet, but lights shone through the window of the small home.
“This is it.” Carr turned off the engine to his truck. “I hope this convinces me one way or the other about Warick.”
“Me too.” Kent wiped the perspiration from his forehead, even with the air-conditioning cranked up to full blast. “I’ve always believed that how a man’s children behave is a reflection of their father.”
“Good thing you didn’t come to my house. I had no respect for discipline, and my dad tried everything he could think of to straighten me out.”
“But how did you act when folks came by to visit?”
“Like manners were my middle name.”
“Precisely.” Kent opened the passenger door of the truck. “I’ll grab the doughnuts, and you grab Lydia’s burritos. Not sure how much time we’ll have since everyone has a job to do.”
“I appreciate your helping me arrange this.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s see what we can find out.”
Carr watched Stanton Warick step onto the front porch and wave. Carr and Kent returned the gesture. A young girl joined Warick on the porch. Even in the faint light of dawn, Carr saw the girl’s striking resemblance to her father and Bella. His heart sped into fifth gear at the thought of Bella’s reaction. He understood her wanting to make a positive impact on these kids, but he hoped their father had taken a step in that direction twelve years ago.
Carr stepped out of his truck and grabbed breakfast. His gaze fixed on a rusted red wagon near the steps. “I don’t believe it.”
“What?” Kent said.
“It’s a Radio Flyer.” Carr pointed to the old wagon loaded down with flowering plants. “I had one of those as a kid. That wagon and I were inseparable. We tore up and down the sidewalk like we owned it. Wore many a hole through the right knee of my jeans.”
Warick laughed. “My boys did everything but sleep in it when they were little. If they weren’t carryin’ each other, then they had some project going on. I couldn’t part with the wagon once they got older.”
Carr peered into Stanton’s eyes and saw what he needed to know.
Chapter 40
Bella wanted to record every word Carr said about her siblings. At first she was irritated that he went to see them without telling her, but she’d visit them as soon as she could drive.
“Were they receptive to your visit?” She settled back in a kitchen chair.
“Absolutely. They want to see you, and the two older boys remember you. I thought maybe tomorrow night the kids could come for a barbecue. That is, if you’re feeling up to it.” His shoulders lifted and fell. “Ty said he could drive them here.”
Alex had sounded good when she talked to him before her hospital stay. She didn’t need to think twice about it. “I’d love a visit.”
“Great. I’ll arrange it.”
“Did they have the look of abuse?”
“Not at all. The Circle D is a good-size ranch, and the foreman’s quarters are neat and clean. The boys work there, and Anne babysits during the week for a couple in Ballinger. You should see her. Looks so much like her big sis. In fact, I had to do a double take. They are well-mannered, respectful—prayed before we ate.”
How could they not be hardened after a life with their father? “Wish I could see what they look like.”
Carr fished his camera from his pocket and laid it on the table. “I took a bunch of pictures. All I need to do is download them. I’ll go get my laptop from the library.”
“Then I want to talk to you about their father.”
“Your father too.”
Did she hear an edge in his voice? “I’m hoping he’s ready to relinquish custody to me.”
“Ty’s eighteen and ready for college.” He paused, and she recognized his manner of thinking through something before speaking. “I met Stanton a few nights ago at the church.”
She frowned. “What was he doing there?”
“Ty is considering the ministry, and his dad had arranged for him to talk to the music minister and Kent before he made a final decision.”
“My brother . . . a pastor?” She thought of her siblings as four nearly grown kids who needed guidance. What happened? It was good. God had definitely looked out for them, but this information was not what she expected. Not so sure it was what she wanted to hear either. She wanted to take care of her siblings.
“I see the questions on your face, and I’m ready to answer what I can. But first I want you to see their pictures.”
Bella took a deep breath, wishing her energy level would return sooner than the doctors anticipated. Confusion about her brothers and sister caused a chill to race up her arms. How was she supposed to feel or act or think? What was she supposed to say when it came to her siblings? Dad and Carr talked—about what? Her dad’s ability to fire a rifle from the top of a butte? dig for buried gold by lantern light?
She halted her thoughts. Even if her reflections about Dad were true, she shouldn’t dwell on them. The priority was her brothers and sister.
Her fragile faith gave her hope, and the Scripture she’d memorized years ago now had meaning. But the challenges of her family frightened her. She picked up her cell to text Frank about the kids’ visit tomorrow night, and she didn’t want him there. Knowing Frank, he’d interrogate each one. Another thought took root. Perhaps Carr had found new evidence leading to the killer’s arrest. Her dad might want a plea bargain.
* * *
Carr clicked on the last photo of the Warick teens, fourteen-year-old Anne. He watched Bella’s guarded emotions melt like ice.
“She looks so much like me at that age.” Bella’s soft voice broke with the emotion that he sensed had been building since he showed her the first picture. She reached to the computer screen and almost touched the smiling face. “She looks happy. All of them have beautiful smiles.”
He handed her a tissue, and she dabbed her eyes. “Ty looks like Grandfather Warick, and Alex and Zack have Mair’s light hair and blue eyes.”
Carr peered at the screen. “How can you tell they have blue eyes?”
She laughed and sniffed. “I remember them as babies and toddlers.” She took his hand. “Thank you. I will never forget this. Tomorrow . . .” She straightened. “Now I want to see the pictures again.”
This time he laughed. “When you’re finished, we can have the discussion about your dad.”
She nodded, while her attention stayed
glued to the computer screen. Once she’d clicked through the photos again, she turned to him. “I’m ready. I’ve thought about it most of the day, and I’m hoping you’ve found evidence to solve these murders.”
Bella was about to be disappointed—and probably furious at him for what he was going to say. He also understood this might end their relationship before it began.
Carr closed the lid of the laptop. “I met your dad at Kent’s office on Monday night. I told you Ty had an appointment with the music minister and Kent, and Stanton came along for moral support. Once I learned who he was, it was all I could do to keep from punching him in the nose.” He peered into her eyes and took her hand. “In fact, I had to excuse myself and spend some time in the sanctuary.”
“I’m not so sure I’d have had any self-control.”
“God used the situation to deal with me about some of my own issues. When I finished my come-to-Jesus meeting, as Jasper calls it, I realized I needed to face Stanton in Kent’s office. I saw him at the back of the church and offered my apologies. He asked if he could tell me his story.”
“I can only imagine what he conjured up.” Her face tightened.
Help me, here. “Your dad relayed the same atrocities about his abuse to you and the rest of his family. He even added a few more events that you omitted. But most of his account happened after you left the area.” Carr proceeded to tell Bella about the affair between Brandt Richardson and Mair while he continued to search for the Spider Rock treasure. “When Mair left, Stanton turned to drinking. In short, when he saw Anne was sick, he took her to a clinic. The doctor there gave him a choice of getting help for his drinking and cleaning up his life or losing his kids. Stanton chose fatherhood. He got help, ended up in church, and became a Christian. He’s got good kids, which he attributes to God. He also said he’d tried unsuccessfully through the years to contact you and apologize.”