Pursuit of Justice

by DiAnn Mills

  “Now for situation two,” he said. “Why are you on this assignment? Because it doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Remember? I’m familiar with the area. I spent the first fifteen years of my life in Runnels County.”

  “Must you always be so secretive? Enlighten me as to why you think your father is involved with the shooting and possibly the murders.”

  She regretted saying a word about her father. Without hard proof, she had nothing to base her suspicions on except his angry threat and greedy craving for the Spider Rock treasure. “He is—or rather, was—a treasure hunter.”

  “Is he capable of murder?”

  “You and I both know the answer to that.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  She swallowed hard. “No excuse. But here is what I do know. I learned the night before the shooting that my stepmother divorced him for Brandt Richardson. Dear old Dad ended up with their four kids. I can only imagine how they’ve had to take care of themselves. Anyway, I planned to investigate the whole matter after the morning ride on the butte when someone used Carr and me for target practice.”

  Frank picked up his notepad. “I want names and addresses.”

  She would not exploit her siblings. “I can’t, Frank. I know you have the means to find names and addresses, but not my brothers and sister. Do what you need with Stanton Warick, but leave the rest of my family to me.”

  “Honey—”

  “I’m not your honey, and don’t patronize me. Give me a few days or whatever you can for me to talk to those kids.”

  “I can’t promise you that.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  Frank marched to the door. “I need air.”

  “A few days.”

  He stopped and swung around. “All right. Then I’m stepping in.”

  Chapter 31

  On Monday morning, Carr woke with a resolve that no one could squelch. When he lived in Dallas, nothing stopped him from finding answers to questions that ate at him night and day. This was worse, because the problem affected more than him.

  “The shooting was not your fault.” Lydia carried a basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room. “Any thought otherwise is pure foolishness.”

  “It is if the shooter meant to get rid of me.” Carr paced the tiled floor of the kitchen, stopping briefly to note the setting sun and remembering when it rose Saturday morning.

  “From all the unexplainable events over the past two weeks, I think if you were supposed to be the only recipient of some shooter’s greed, you’d be at the funeral home.”

  “Might be a better alternative than Bella in the hospital.”

  Lydia uncharacteristically dropped the basket with a loud splat. “Feeling sorry for yourself doesn’t undo the tragedy that’s hit this ranch.”

  She had a way of scooping him right out of his self-pity. “I’m going to do a little snooping on my own.”

  Her gaze swung to him. Like fire on kindling. “What are you planning?”

  “I’m going to see Kent, then visit a couple of kids in the area.”

  “You’re going to see the Warick kids, aren’t you?”

  “And any other cousins or uncles.”

  She shook her finger at him. Her eyes pooled. “Carr, this is not smart. I . . . can’t let you put yourself in danger. What about Vic or the new agent or one of the deputies?”

  “I’m sure they all have their methods of investigation. I need to do this for myself.”

  “I forbid it.” The three words thundered around him.

  If Carr hadn’t seen the seriousness in her face, he’d have laughed. “What are you going to do about it?” He understood her fears, but what—? “You’re not going to try to stop me by contacting the FBI or the county sheriff’s department, are you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I don’t need a mother, Lydia.” He snatched up his keys. “A shooter couldn’t do much more damage to me than a few members of the sheriff’s department.”

  “Why didn’t you press charges against Roano?”

  Carr fumed. “And what makes you think Roano blacked my eye?”

  She lifted her chin, hostility in every muscle. “You’re asking to be the next warm grave. You can’t fight the killers and hotheaded deputies and sheriffs.”

  “And what would you have me do?”

  “Mind your own business and let the law enforcement people take care of solving murders and murder attempts.”

  “Fat chance. I’m not about to let someone commit murder on my property, poison my friend, and try to kill Bella without a fight.”

  “Are you going to break the law in the process?”

  Carr’s thoughts scrambled. Lydia had never reacted with such vehemence. “I’m not that man. Neither do I plan on making an example out of lawbreakers. I’m looking for answers.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think the FBI would spend time talking to kids.”

  “But those kids have a daddy, and you already know what Stanton Warick is capable of. And those kids have a stepfather who is a serial murderer.”

  Carr felt as though she’d thrown ice water on him. How did I not see the connection? “The Warick kids are Bella’s siblings?”

  “Half brothers and a sister.”

  The jigsaw puzzle now took on more meaning. “I thought those kids were cousins or something. That means Brandt Richardson is their stepfather.”

  Lydia stared at the basket on the floor. “That’s it.”

  “What a mess. Why . . . why did she accept this assignment?”

  “A woman like Bella can’t leave the past dormant forever.”

  Carr tried to understand the reason Bella parceled out truth like slices of pizza. “A couple of kids aren’t murderers.”

  “Tell that to the parents who lost kids to the Columbine massacre.”

  Carr touched her arm. “Please. I’ll call Frank as soon as I’m finished. I’ll call you too. Besides, I may learn I can’t talk to the kids, especially since their dad is Stanton Warick. This is a whim. Kent is going with me. Sort of a summer visit to a few of the kids to see how they’re getting along.”

  “If you leave, I won’t be here when you get back.”

  Carr startled; then his anger mounted. “You do what you have to do. I have to find out who’s turned our community into a haven for murderers.” He started to add that he wasn’t a coward but changed his mind. He left Lydia standing in the kitchen.

  Outside in the steadily rising temperatures, he flung open the truck door, flipped on the engine, and headed to the highway while wrestling with his and Lydia’s argument. The new revelation about Bella made him crazy with fear for her and furious that she’d kept the information from him.

  But this wild, irrational ultimatum wasn’t Lydia’s normal behavior. They didn’t quarrel and threaten like those who didn’t care for each other. They were Christians who reacted and responded to each other as they wanted to be treated. He fondly called her Mom. She labeled him her son. Lydia hadn’t meant what she’d said. But what did she mean?

  Carr stepped on the brakes before he reached the highway and spun the truck around. Cold chills raced up and down his arms and neck. Understanding gripped him, and he hurried back to the house, kicking up dirt in his wake. Lydia hadn’t made sense, and in her harsh words, he hadn’t heard the truth.

  He took long strides onto the front porch and threw open the door. He made his way into the living room and on to where Lydia stood in the same spot in the kitchen, except now she sobbed.

  “Lydia, who threatened you?”

  Chapter 32

  Bella had two more days in the hospital, and then she was a free woman again. Swartzer urged her to return to Houston to recuperate, but she convinced him to let her stay. Carr offered the hospitality of the High Butte Ranch, and she took it—for professional and personal reasons. The latter she chose to explore after the murderer was arrested. She intended to be in the t
hick of the investigation and the High Butte looked like headquarters to her. Frank wanted her to stay with him at the Courtesy Inn in Abilene so he could take care of her. Soon they’d have to talk about where their relationship was not going.

  She eased out a slow sigh. Neither Carr nor Kent Matthews recognized the picture of Professor Howard MacGregor. Perhaps it was the beard, mustache, and shoulder-length hair. She thought something about him was familiar, but at times her own exuberance in an investigation caused her to leap on details that had nothing to do with the case. This was no exception.

  She laughed at an e-mail follow-up regarding Charles Habid, the manager at the Courtesy Inn. He’d cornered Frank with a little of his own investigative work. In his enthusiasm to assist the FBI, he’d gone through various receipts of the hotel’s restaurant for the past few months and discovered a couple of matching signatures from different customers. Sure enough. Brandt had stayed at the hotel using different names and disguises. Habid decided to apply to the FBI.

  The media had changed its tune about dragging Carr’s and her names through the mud. A little plus in the FBI’s favor, but she wasn’t so sure she liked the cost. The TV news now made her and Carr look like heroes. She preferred to think they were victims. Someone had even run a section on Vic Anderson’s wife and her fight with cancer. Reporters sympathized with the veteran agent who made a decision to spend his wife’s final days with her rather than continue his stellar career with the FBI. Oh, fickle media. They could turn again tomorrow.

  In the meantime, she had much to do. Frank had jumped into the investigation with both feet, just as she expected. He hadn’t turned up anything new, but he and Carr had discussed the Spider Rock legend in depth. The two men had established a rapport. Or had they? Frank could have doubts about Carr’s innocence. And if Frank’s ways of perception were anything like they’d been in the past, then he saw the attraction between her and Carr. What a blow to Frank’s heart and an issue she needed to address soon.

  I’ve got to stop worrying about Frank and be a contributing agent in this investigation. Later she’d address personal issues. Now she sounded like Frank.

  Bella wanted to see her brothers and sister and begin making arrangements for their future. Her demanding job meant their care would be difficult, but she’d neglected them too long. The boys needed good role models, and Anne . . . Girls had so many needs. Someone must have taken an interest in them, or they wouldn’t have attended a church youth event. And the initial contact had to be done before Frank approached them.

  Bella blew out an exasperated sigh. Rats. She hated being in the hospital. So much to do, and with the guards posted outside the door, she had to have an escort to walk the halls.

  Her relationship with Carr—or rather the beginnings—excited and alarmed her. While lying in the hospital bed counting the holes in the ceiling tiles and then conjuring up the patterns they made, she resorted to logic about the two not having a future together. Once arrests were made for all the crimes, he’d go back to ranching, and she’d go back to her position in the violent crimes department in Houston—and finish raising her siblings. But she did allow herself to dream.

  Bella’s BlackBerry rang, and she saw the caller was Carr. At the sight of his name, she warmed. “Hey. How are you?”

  “Good.” But his tone denied it.

  Her stomach churned. “What’s happened?”

  “Is Frank there? He’s not answering his phone.”

  “No. He may be out of range. Had an appointment with Roano. So what’s going on that you need to talk to him?”

  “I’d rather not burden you with it.”

  “Carr, you might as well tell me because I won’t let up until you do.”

  Silence swung like a pendulum, and she envisioned his brows narrowing and the tiny lines deepening around his blue eyes. “Lydia received a threatening phone call.”

  Not that sweet lady. “Oh no. What did she say?”

  “A man called yesterday and said she would be next on the hit list if she didn’t convince me to stop assisting the FBI.”

  “What does she know that someone would view her as a threat?”

  “I asked her the same thing, and she claims nothing. I also asked her if she and Jasper should visit a relative until this is over.”

  “And?”

  “Told me to forget it. She’s planning to see you later on today, and it would take a crowbar to budge Jasper.”

  “Sure, and I’m not surprised she won’t take a vacation until this is over.” Bella sensed a mixture of rage and protectiveness rising from her toes. “I’ll get someone to keep twenty-four-hour surveillance on both of you.”

  “The call was made to frighten her, not me.”

  “I don’t read it the same way.”

  “I have no intentions of hiding out. Lydia is scared and rightfully so. I appreciate what you can do for her, but—”

  “Tell me what could be more important than saving your life.” Carr could be so infuriatingly stubborn.

  “I’m not hiding out like a scared kid. If I was supposed to be dead, it would have already happened.”

  No point in arguing with him. One thing they had in common was tenacity. “I’ve been doing some thinking, and I want to talk to you and Lydia.”

  “We can head over now.”

  “Do you want to wait until someone is assigned to protect both of you?”

  “For Lydia, yes. Not me.”

  “Okay. I’ll make a call and get back with you in a couple of minutes. Then let me know when you’re on your way.” Carr had taken a bullet for her. He deserved to know the rest of the truth.

  * * *

  “Did you drive yourself here?” Fear in mammoth proportions coursed through Bella’s body for Carr and Lydia.

  “Deputy Wesley Adams was our chauffeur. Roano assigned him to Lydia. He’s Darren’s nephew.”

  “Yes, I remember him. Took his uncle’s death real hard.”

  Carr looked exceptionally handsome in jeans and a green striped shirt. She’d always given cowboys a second glance.

  She knotted the sheet draped over her waist. If she didn’t tell them the truth, the deceit would fester like infection in an open wound. Honesty was supposed to be good for the soul. No. That was confession. Same thing. “I want to tell you what happened fourteen years ago when I left Runnels County.” She slid a look first at Lydia and then at Carr. “In a short time, we’ve become friends, and I think telling you this is fair.” When neither of them responded, she took a deep breath.

  “My father and Brandt Richardson were partners in searching for the Spider Rock treasure. In my opinion, Brandt supplied the brains, and Dad supplied his back. Brandt claimed the gold was buried on our ranch, but nothing ever came of it. I heard very little about their plans. It was a hush-hush business, like two little boys with a secret. Dad had a big problem—gambling. He couldn’t hold on to a paycheck. Mair, my stepmother, did her best to get it from him before he spent it all, but it seldom happened. The two of them had four children together. Those kids . . .” She captured Carr’s gaze. “Those kids are the Waricks I wanted to see last Saturday morning. They aren’t my cousins, but my half brothers and sister.” She waited for him to react.

  He frowned. He already knows.

  “I appreciate your telling me about them. Does your boss in Houston know about your siblings?”

  “He does now.”

  Carr nodded slowly and she continued. “I’m hoping to get them away from Dad. Anyway, his gambling debts exceeded thousands of dollars. Then Brandt offered him a way out of his problem. He’d pay off the creditors if Dad agreed to let him marry me.”

  “What?” Carr’s face reddened. “He wanted to sell you to Richardson?”

  Bella nodded. “Mair agreed, and I couldn’t change their minds. When I told Brandt I’d never marry him, that I’d run away first, he told me I’d live to regret it. He went to Dad and said the deal was off. Dad was furious. He told me if I ruined hi
s chances to get out of debt and find the gold, he’d dig a grave with my name on it. I ran off and made my way to Abilene.”

  “You walked?” Lydia reached out for her hand.

  “About twenty-five miles of it. A trucker picked me up and drove me into town. I stayed at a women’s shelter there for about three weeks. The director took a liking to me, most likely because she realized I was younger than eighteen, and I was so frightened. One day she had me ride along with her to an abandoned women’s shelter in Snyder. There, stored away in an old jail built in the early 1900s, were red silhouettes of all the women and children who’d died at the hand of family violence. I cried buckets, the first time I’d allowed myself to grieve for all the troubles in my life. After telling her about what really happened, we talked about my options, and I remembered my mother’s sister. Somehow she found Aunt Debbie. When the judge heard my story, Dad denied it, but he did give up custody. Aunt Debbie adopted me. The rest you already know.”

  Carr stood and paced the floor. He looked drained, and his eyes moistened. “No child, no woman should live with that kind of fear. Why ever did you take this assignment, knowing either of those men could kill you?”

  “To stop them.” She shrugged. “To be honest, I think it was vengeance. And I need to take care of my siblings before it’s too late. I’ve neglected them far too long.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and the tears threatening to make her look like a pathetic woman instead of a lead agent. “Once here, I learned more about my family. Twelve years ago, Mair left my dad for Brandt. They took off to South America, where she changed her name and dropped out of sight. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d killed her, except she may have been the woman who purchased flowers for me. So in the thick of all the mud, my siblings’ stepfather is on the FBI’s fugitive list.”

  “Thank you.” Carr leaned over the bed. “Earlier today I learned about your brothers and sister. There’s so much I now understand. No wonder the flowers upset you.”

  “I have to get past it and go on with the investigation. I haven’t been able to secure enough evidence to put the killings on Brandt or Dad, but I believe both of them are involved.”