by DiAnn Mills
Bella nodded through a hardened expression. “I destroyed his letters. Then Aunt Debbie and I moved, and we didn’t leave a forwarding address.”
Carr saw she was not handling this well, but he had to continue. “His story is much longer, but he wanted to tell you himself.”
“Does he think I’m going to forgive him and welcome dear old Dad into my arms?”
He refused to comment because Bella knew the answer to that question. She glanced away, but he saw a single tear drip onto her cheek. He wanted to comfort her, but her hostility was between her and God.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Carr finally said. “I have a good ear.”
“For years I had nightmares about him. What he and Brandt did. And that is why I entered the FBI.” She rubbed her uninjured hand on her jeans. “If I’m to remain true to my faith, then I have to forgive him.” She blinked again. “And Brandt.”
“It’s tough.”
She nodded and swiped at a tear. “Do you know I’ve shed more tears here than I have since I was a kid?”
“Look where you are. Look at what’s happened. Look at the emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical drain on your life.”
“But to forgive Dad or even Brandt makes me feel like I’m weak.”
“Not at all. It takes more strength to let go of the past and step forward than to darken our hearts with hate.”
Several seconds passed, and he waited. How well he understood the turmoil of facing the devil and his wiles head-on.
“I can forgive Dad,” she said. “I appreciate the fact he did well for my brothers and sister. But I don’t want to ever see him. Never. I can’t put myself there.”
“It would be hard.”
“Brandt will take more time. Maybe never. I feel like he’s the devil with skin on.”
“Again, I understand.”
“Glad you do, because I don’t understand myself. One thing I ask.”
“What?”
“Dad has to be interviewed for the investigation, but I’ll have Roano and Frank handle it. Do not ever arrange a face-to-face between us for the purpose of reconciliation. If you find that necessary, my trust in you is gone.”
His poor Bella. He could only pray for her heart to heal and for God to give her peace.
Chapter 41
Bella watched a late-model truck pull up to the ranch house. Her pulse quickened. Three teen boys and a girl piled out of the truck. Where are their seat belts?
Her babies. She’d rocked them to sleep, fed them, played with them, and then deserted them to a man who apparently had done a U-turn.
A sob caught in her throat, and she covered her mouth.
“Are you okay?” Carr’s arm slipped around her waist. “Maybe this is too soon. You’re not well by any means.”
She forced a smile and blinked back the emotion. “No, I’m fine. Very fine. And I’m excited.” She turned to Lydia. “Thank you again for inviting them to dinner. Both of you.”
“My pleasure. Can’t go wrong with grilled burgers and chicken.”
“My job,” Carr said. “And I’m on my way to turn on the grill.”
Bella’s emotions had turned to pure giddiness. “I’m going to meet them on the front porch.”
Carr stepped back and gestured toward the door. “Your entourage awaits.”
She hurried past him. “I think it’s the other way around.”
Bella opened the door and gasped. The speech she had planned all day disappeared from her thoughts. Standing before her were four jean-clad teenagers who mirrored the babies and toddlers she’d loved so dearly.
“Rachel?” the tallest boy said.
“Ty?”
He opened his arms, and she fell into them laughing and sobbing. Her other siblings touched her back, uninjured arm, face. Bella embraced an inkling of heaven.
When dinner was ready, they gathered around the table and prayed before digging in. “Alex, tell me about what is going on with you,” Bella said midway through the boy’s second hamburger. Ty had spoken freely about his call into the ministry.
“I tend to be the black sheep, but Dad and Ty are doing their best to make sure I behave.”
“Sure you want to confess crimes to an FBI agent?” However, her laugh didn’t match the whirling in her stomach.
“Sounds like a plan to me. After spending a night in jail for drinking, I think I’ll be in law enforcement. Sure looks better on the outside than the inside.”
They all laughed, but Bella took careful mental notes.
“Going into law enforcement would be something I could do for Sheriff Adams.” Alex reached for a chicken leg dripping in barbecue sauce. “Since he’s the one who picked me up and gave me the worst lecture of my life.”
“Those weren’t your exact words, Bro,” Zack said. The two boys could have passed for twins with their long legs, straw-colored hair, and large blue-gray eyes. “‘In my grill like a redneck on steroids’ is what you said.”
Alex grabbed the picante sauce. “That’s before someone murdered him. And Dad was harder on me than the sheriff. Gave me two hundred hours of community service on the ranch.”
Good. Sounds like Dad changed his ways for the sake of the kids.
Alex wiped his fingers on a checkered napkin. “Rachel—or do you want us to call you Bella?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Anyway, I know none of the others will say a word about this. But since I’m the one who has no problem speaking my mind, I will. We all know what Dad did. It’s not a secret. We’ve all chosen to use how he treated us as a lesson on what not to do.” He tossed a glance at Ty. “See, I do know a few things.”
Ty chuckled. “Maybe you should consider the ministry.”
Alex pointed a half-eaten drumstick at his older brother. “Forget it. Zack, your turn.”
“Uh . . . I like baseball.”
“What position?” Bella said.
“Second base.”
“He’s good.” Anne had spoken little during the meal. “Daddy says he could get a college scholarship. He makes all of the hits too. You should see him play.”
Anne clearly adored Zack. “Are you playing during the summer?” Bella’s shoulder throbbed, but she would not break the spell—this wonderful, magical enchantment.
Zack moistened his lips the way she remembered Mair doing. “Our church has a team, young guys and old guys.”
“Watch it,” Carr said. “I play on our church’s team, and we beat you the first game.”
“New Hope?” Zack’s forehead crinkled.
“Yep.”
“We hadn’t any time to practice.”
Carr laughed. “Neither did we, but I remember you made the only hits.”
Zack nodded. “And don’t you forget it when we play you again. You’ll be eatin’ dirt. We’ve got a game tomorrow night. Wanna come?”
Bella looked at Carr. She wanted to attend Zack’s game, but she didn’t want to see her dad. Oh, she was such a brave FBI agent.
“I’ll take you,” Carr said. “That way I can watch Zack’s strategy.”
Bella nodded. She could handle it. “We’ll be there. So what’s your ultimate goal?”
Zack pressed his lips together and reached for the corn and jalapeño casserole. “Not sure. Maybe coach high school baseball.” He pointed to Anne. “You’re next, princess.”
“I don’t like that name.”
“We know,” Alex said. “But, princess, it’s all you.”
Bella studied the face of her little sister, whose resemblance stirred Bella’s soul. Was it wrong to welcome her sister’s mirrored looks? “I understand you babysit for a couple in Ballinger.”
“Yes, ma’am—”
“I’m your sister, sweetie. No need to ma’am a sister.”
Anne grinned. “Daddy told me to mind my manners.”
Another reason to hide her feelings about Saint Dad. That’s wrong. Lord, this is harder than I thought. “How old is the
child you babysit?”
“There are two of them—boys—and they’re two and three.”
“Sounds like a handful.” Bella studied Anne’s face. Her green eyes sparkled.
“They are, but I love ’em. We play and do crafts.”
“And school? You’re going to be a freshman this year?”
“Yes, and I know what else you’re going to ask. I want to be a pediatrician.”
Beautiful, lofty goals for a sweet girl. For all of them. “Wonderful.”
“Rachel,” Ty said, “when are you going to eat?”
“Now, little brother. My, how did I get along without you?” She reached for a bun and a burger.
“Tell us about it,” Alex said. “Can we ask you questions?”
Oh, great. “I suppose.”
“Ever been shot before?” Alex said.
“No. Been shot at. Don’t care to have it happen again.”
“Ever shoot anybody?” Alex continued.
“Alex,” Ty and Zack said.
Bella held up her hand to let them know Alex’s question was not off-limits. “Yes, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough,” Alex said.
Ty relaxed a bit, and she was pleased with the way he worked at being a good role model. However, he might take his family position a bit too seriously.
Lydia passed the potato salad around the table. “Looks like you four are hooked up close.”
“I guess,” Ty said, “if I understand what you mean. We look out for each other.”
“My father used that phrase.” Lydia went on. “It comes from the old days when a man hooked up a team of horses close to the wagon so they’d work well together.”
“That’s us,” Ty said. “We’ll be hooked even closer now that Rachel is with us.”
Bella peered into the face of her brother. When they met again, she’d ask them about returning to Houston with her.
Long after the house quieted that night, Bella whipped off an e-mail to Aunt Debbie. She detailed each sibling, their likes and hobbies and personality.
. . . I could go on and on with the evening. I’m so proud of them and surprised they’ve done well despite Dad. God is looking out for them. According to Carr, Dad changed shortly after Mair left him. That’s good for them, but I don’t trust him.
Attached are pictures. Aren’t they a handsome bunch?
Aunt Debbie, Dad could be involved in these murders, and I’m afraid of how the kids would handle it. They are so trusting, as though he never did anything wrong. Lots of fears for them are running through my head.
Love,
Bella
She brushed her teeth and washed her face and heard the chirp of an incoming e-mail.
My dear Bella,
Rockefeller and I are up late watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Can’t get enough of Frodo, Sam, the beautiful Arwen, too-pretty Legolas, and that hunk Aragorn. Makes a woman blush just looking at him—and with me, it’s all about hot flashes. Lots of good stuff.
Then I read your e-mail and I’m blubbering. Those precious babies are all grown-up. Looking at Anne is like looking at you. Honey, God is calling you to not only forgive your Dad but give him a chance. I think I hear your stubborn streak coming through cyberspace. But be open, dear one. Who knows what’s in the future?
Okay, Rockefeller is at the door, and I need to let him out. He’s actually been quite good. I found that one-on-one time with him, along with his special doggy treats, makes him a much better behaved dog.
Love you bunches,
Aunt Debbie
Chapter 42
Bella studied the road through her car’s rearview mirror. She’d left the High Butte at four thirty this morning while the house was dark and quiet. Carr and Lydia would have handcuffed her if they’d had any idea she planned a trip to Junction, about two hours away, where Interstate 10 intersected with Highway 83. An old man by the name of Shep Wither worked at the McDonald’s there. He claimed to have information about the Spider Rock treasure possibly being located in Runnels County. Brandt might have milked him for all he was worth, yet she needed the same information.
Wither’s shift ended at ten this morning, and he knew to expect her. She’d brought her laptop to work on the investigation until the man was free to talk.
Another glance in the rearview mirror indicated no one was following. She would not have been surprised to see Carr’s fancy red F-250 on her bumper or another vehicle that could have been the killer’s. Oh, but Carr was proud of that truck.
At the McDonald’s, she ordered a large coffee, two packets of honey, and a sausage McMuffin. She didn’t need to ask for Shep Wither. He stood a head taller than any of the kids frying hash browns, serving breakfast, or pouring drinks, and he had ancient leather for skin. Lydia and Jasper had described him perfectly. Wither reached over the counter and grasped her hand like it was porcelain and grinned a full mouthful of his own pearly white teeth. Bet he was a lady-killer in his day.
“I’ll be over there.” She pointed to a booth. “I brought plenty of work to do.”
“A pretty lady like you should be relaxin’.” He drew out each syllable as though they were the only two people in the restaurant.
She smiled and took her sack of food. “I’ll remember that.” She scooted into the booth and opened the lid of her coffee to cool. After adding both packets of honey, she turned on her laptop.
Hours later, Wither joined her. “Sure would be nice if I could get off work every day to visit with a beautiful woman.”
“I’m sure you have no problem attracting women.”
He chuckled, and she imagined he had been charming ladies since he was in diapers. “What happened to your arm?”
“Someone tried to use me for target practice.”
“What does he look like?”
He wants to defend my honor. “Never saw him.”
“Hmm. Interesting. You’re curious about why the Spider Rock treasure is buried in Runnels County.”
“I am. First of all, I need to tell you I’m an FBI agent investigating four murders in Runnels County.” She pulled out her creds. Wither reached into his shirt pocket and fished out a pair of glasses. From the time he took, he surely read every word.
“Am I being recorded?” he said, seemingly convinced of her status.
“No, sir.”
“The FBI doesn’t get called in on every murder.”
“One of the suspects is already wanted by us.”
“But you must be close, or you wouldn’t have a bullet hole in your shoulder. I read about the killings. One of the men wrote Spider Rock in the dirt before he died. Then the sheriff was poisoned.”
“Right. I understand others have asked you about the gold.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you have any names of those who asked about your theory?”
“No theory at all. It’s fact. One of the dead men asked me about the Spider Rock treasure located there—Walt Higgins from Waco.”
Until now, Higgins’s name hadn’t been mentioned as much as the other two men. “Was he the only one who asked you about it?”
“Yep. Most folks in these parts think I’m crazy.”
Maybe you are, but I’m enjoying your eccentricity. “So you gave the map to Higgins.”
“Not at first. I had to find out if he was Christian. When he told me what church he belonged to, I contacted his pastor. Then I gave him a copy of the map.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Can’t.”
Getting information out of Wither was tasking her brain. “Why not?”
“Got stolen.”
She leaned across the table. “I bet you have it memorized.”
He leaned closer. “You know I do.”
“Can you draw it for me?”
His eyes twinkled. “Not here. Don’t trust any of these grease-lickin’ folks.”
She swallowed her laughter. “Where, then?”
“Follow me to my place, and I’ll draw the map for you.”
“Am I safe?”
“Depends if my woman is there.”
Bella grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”
She slipped into her car and followed Shep about six miles out of Junction to a mobile home down a dirt road. Shep’s woman happened to be about twenty-five and model material. She glared at Bella, probably for any signs of potentially stealing her man.
“Now, sweetheart, this here’s a real FBI agent. She’s trying to solve those murders in Runnels County. She’s not after me.” Wither winked at Bella. “And I need for you to promise me you won’t tell a soul about this.”
“If you do, you could be in danger,” Bella said. “There’ve been four murders linked to this, and I wouldn’t want you and Mr. Wither to be added to the list of victims.”
The young woman’s eyes widened, revealing mascara-coated eyelashes long enough to swat flies. “I promise. Are you sure you weren’t followed?”
“I left the area at four thirty to throw off anyone attempting to follow.” Bella pointed to her left arm. “As you can see from my shoulder, the murderer plays for keeps. But the road was clear this morning.”
Bella spent the next hour waiting on Wither to draw the map. He indicated the treasure was buried where Carr and Jasper had found the three victims on the High Butte Ranch.
“Why do you think the treasure is buried there instead of the other places indicated by previous findings? All the clues point to the triangle of Aspermont, Rotan, and Clyde.”
“Because they all read the Spider Rock map wrong.” He excused himself and returned with a copy of the treasure map rolled up like a scroll. “This one didn’t get stolen. See how the spiderweb circles and connects with itself. That indicates the treasure is outside of the web. My great-grandfather was friends with an old Mexican fellow who insisted the real treasure was buried at the foot of this butte. He insisted anything found within the triangle of Aspermont, Clyde, and Rotan would bring destruction. I reckon you’ve heard about the curse. Looks like you got a taste of it yourself.”
Bella recalled Lydia referring to stories about the treasure passed down from generation to generation. For certain, the three victims believed the gold was buried on the High Butte. And so did whoever had killed them.