Pursuit of Justice (21 page)

Chapter 36

Carr had no expectations when it came to Stanton Warick. So when the man walked into Kent’s office, sporting auburn hair and green eyes, looking very much like his Bella, Carr wanted to punch him in the nose. Looking into the face of the man who may have murdered four times and tried to kill Bella brought fire into his very soul.

“Carr, this is Stanton Warick.” Kent seemed to measure each syllable. Perhaps he remembered the months Carr spent in anger management. Right now, he needed a refresher course. This man had attempted to
sell
his daughter to pay off gambling debts.

Warick reached out his hand. Carr stood and accepted the gesture—reluctantly. If this was going to be confession night for Warick, then he intended to take notes. “I’m not here to interrupt your counseling session.”

“It’s a meeting,” Warick said. “Not sure counseling is part of it.”

“I’m a friend of Bella’s.” Carr knew he should extend Christian love and fellowship and all the other things that he was
supposed
to do. But frankly, his heart denied Warick access to anything remotely resembling friendship or acceptance.

“Rachel needs good friends.” Warick’s face tightened as though pained. Well, he should be. “I’m trying to get the courage to see her. Did she receive the flowers?”

“Did you shoot her?”

“Easy,” Kent said.

Warick stiffened. “No, I did not shoot my own daughter. Does she think that?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course she does, and who could blame her?”

Carr studied him: jeans and a yellow shirt. Leatherlike skin. Worked outside—probably digging for treasure. Strong too. He glanced at Kent, whose face had turned a ghastly shade of white, which looked incredibly odd with his freckles.

“I did
not
arrange for both of you to be here,” Kent said. “Carr stopped by about another matter.”

“But I would have been here if I knew you were coming.” Carr heard the grit of his own animosity.

Warick dropped his arms to his side. “You heard what I did to my daughter.”

Carr’s fists clenched at his sides. “I did.” What was he doing letting his old self take control? He had to get out of Kent’s office. His attitude was a disgrace to everything he claimed to believe in. No matter what Stanton Warick had done, God would judge him.
God
would judge him. Not Carr Sullivan. He peered into Kent’s face and then Warick’s. “Excuse me.” He made his way down the hall to the sanctuary and inside, then down to a front pew.

God, I need help here. I can’t help Bella or myself by breathing fire. It’s as if You never entered my life.
He buried his face in his hands. How could he ever help at-risk boys? For that matter, how could he expect to have a relationship with Bella when his life centered on himself—and his temper? The storms that had thrown his world off course had invited the old methods of dealing with problems.

“I thought my temper was gone,” he whispered.

Conviction shattered what was left of his pride. He’d denied his anger, shoved it aside, and not comprehended that anger in itself was not wrong. But how he handled it, how he channeled the adrenaline, was the sin. Instead he’d stuck a Band-Aid over the whole ugly situation—said all the right things. Went through all the proper motions.

A cloud of what his life had been like in Dallas streamed across his mind. He’d been forgiven, but in the growing process, he’d allowed himself to believe that living a monastic life meant he was immune from sin. Jasper had said the same thing, as though the older man knew the blackness invading Carr’s heart. He thought he understood. How very wrong. He slipped from the pew onto his knees. His temper might always haunt him, but that didn’t mean it had to overtake him.

When he finally lifted his head and sensed the burden of trying to fix himself had vanished, he realized unfinished business. He made his way toward the back of the darkened church and saw Warick sitting in the back pew.

“I owe you an apology,” Carr said. “It’s not my call to judge or condemn you.”

Warick slowly stood. “I’d like to tell you my story.”

The man deserved a listening ear. “All right.”

The two men met midway in the aisle. Carr revisited his commitment and his dedication to placing God first. For the next several minutes, Stanton Warick told about his past greed, his gambling problem, his search for the Spider Rock treasure with Brandt Richardson, and what he’d done to his daughter. Every word matched what Bella had revealed. All the while, Carr prayed for a discerning spirit. Because even though he’d confessed his temper and his judgmental spirit, Carr also had a responsibility to filter the truth.

“Once Brandt confirmed the treasure was not on my land, he grew bored. I continued to dig, but he spent more and more time with Mair. A few months later, she confessed their affair. My ego took a plunge. I loved Mair, and I thought Brandt and I were friends. Soon after, she left me and the kids.” Warick shrugged.

“The first few days were a blur. I had no idea what it was like to take care of my own children, so I stayed drunk until the booze ran out. Spending time alone with them showed me what all Mair had put up with through the years. I couldn’t blame her for leaving, any more than I could blame Rachel for running away. The kids were hungry, and their clothes were dirty and ragged. Ty told me I was a lousy dad, and he’d rather go live with Rachel. She loved them—even gave them her portion of food. Anne cried until I took her to a free clinic and learned she had a double ear infection. The doctor didn’t spare words about my lack of parenting. In fact, he dialed social services while I was in his office and handed me the phone.

“That woke me up. I got help for them and myself. The only counseling available was through a pastor, and he showed me how to love my children and make changes. More importantly, I gave my life over to a God who was a perfect role model. I sold my small ranch to pay my debts and took on a job as a foreman near here. I’ve been at the same job, and we’ve been at that church ever since. I love my kids, and I’ve repeatedly apologized to them for all the hurt I caused. They’re all good kids, know Jesus, and love each other. They say they’ve forgiven me and their mother. Although she hasn’t seen them since the day she left. I doubt if she’d recognize any of them. But it’s Rachel who needs to hear my confession.” He swiped at a tear.

“At first I thought she’d have a better life with Debbie, and I’m sure she did. But she deserves to hear my apology. Now someone is trying to kill her.”

Carr questioned Warick’s every word. He glanced toward the back of the church and saw a man standing there. “Are you looking for someone, sir?”

“Is the pastor around?”

“His office is down the hall on the right.”

The man, who looked homeless and hungry, appeared confused. “Can you show me? I can wait in one of these pews until you’re finished.”

Carr nodded while the man limped to a seat behind them. “Sir, we’re having a private conversation. If you’d kindly wait in the back, I’ll be right with you.”

The man looked none too pleased, but he moved.

“Who do you think is behind the shootings?” Carr whispered.

Warick lifted his chin. “No doubt in my mind it’s Brandt. He has a philosophy—what’s his is his, and he won’t let it go. He claims the treasure and Rachel are his. I . . . I found out what hotel she’s staying at and put a note on her windshield to warn her about Brandt.”

Question after question burned in Carr’s mind. Later he’d ponder the truth, if any, in Warick’s words. “Why didn’t you go to the police when those men were murdered on my ranch?”

“I feared what Brandt would do to my kids. I never dreamed he’d try to hurt Rachel.”

“You don’t think your ex-wife would have stopped him?”

“No. She loves Richardson, and she’s blind to anything he does. I ought to know.” He blew out a sigh. “I haven’t seen her in twelve years, and I have no reason to believe they’re still together. Brandt was obsessed with Rachel. How Mair dealt with that is beyond me.”

Carr chose not to comment. Thoughts poured in and out of his head like running water. The revelations of the late afternoon and evening had left him exhausted and yet at peace. His temper was in God’s hands, where it should have been all along. Listening to Stanton Warick with an open mind was another matter. He longed for time to pray about the man, to figure out if his words were true.

The stillness in the sanctuary calmed him even more. “Why are you telling me this?”

Warick gripped the pew in front of him. “I want my daughter safe from Brandt. I also want her off this case. Brandt’s clever and manipulative, and he won’t give up. Let someone else from the FBI handle the investigation, but send my Rachel home. And lastly, I want reconciliation with my daughter. In that order.”

“Why do you think she’d listen to me?”

“I saw the TV report about the two of you.”

“Media hype. Not a word of it was true.” But Carr wished it were.

“But you spend a lot of time with her. At the very least you’re friends.”

Carr considered a rebuttal, but perhaps listening to Warick made more sense. “I doubt if she will abandon her assignment. I’ve tried and gotten nowhere. As far as reconciliation, I can tell her about this conversation. Bella has a mind of her own, and once it’s made up, it takes an act of God to change it.”

“I couldn’t ask for more.”

“Why are you here tonight?”

“Ty, my oldest son, is considering the ministry, and I wanted him to talk to several pastors in the community.”

He’s the young man Kent was talking about?
“I’d like to meet him.”

“Uh, okay. He had an appointment with the music minister, then Pastor Matthews.” Warick glanced at the back of the church and down the hall as though his son waited for him. “Let’s find him.”

The two men exited the sanctuary together. Oddly enough, the man in the back pew had disappeared.

“I wonder . . .” Warick rubbed his chin. “Oh, never mind. Let’s go find Ty.”

Chapter 37

Tomorrow Bella could escape this prison called a hospital, more like a torture chamber with the daily bloodsuckers in their little white jackets. The doctor had told her she couldn’t drive, but Bella had already tuned out such nonsense. All she needed to do was forgo the pain medication and snatch up her keys. Oh, she’d wait maybe two days before a solo flight, but not a day more. Too many things to do.

The recorder inside her purse contained a list of all the follow-ups and questions for Frank, but typing on her laptop with her left arm in a sling was tedious. One item kept pestering her: how had the three victims met and discussed the treasure hunt without mentioning the details to their families? Brandt had surely drawn them into meetings, phoned them, something. But those involved with the victims claimed they were clueless.

Bella’s cell phone rang. She answered without looking at the number. The moment she heard the woman’s voice, she recognized the caller.

“Mair,” Bella said. “It’s been a long time. Or are you going by Lynne?” She tucked the phone between her shoulder and her ear, then grabbed the pen and paper on her table.

“I heard you had an accident.”

“Clear in Peru? Or are you not there anymore? And you wanted to make sure I was okay?”

“You are my children’s half sister.”

Bella decided not to ask when the last time was she’d seen them. “But you’re no longer my stepmother.”

“You’ve done your homework. The FBI has trained you better than I expected. If you know about my divorce from your father, then you know I’m with Brandt.”

Bella forced a laugh. “Better you than me.”

“Come now, Rachel. Are you still harboring bad feelings about his little infatuation with you?”

“Not at all. I thought you were a smarter woman than to team up with him. Do you have a fixation for losers?” Bella scribbled their conversation. If only she could get the attention of one of the officers.

“Your father made top billing.”

Bella wished there were something close at hand that she could throw at the guard and snag his attention. “So Brandt had you pick out flowers and then call me?”

“He didn’t have a thing to do with it. I was concerned.”

“About what?” Bella took a purposeful pause.

“You were nearly killed. One of your father’s stupid tricks, I’m sure.”

“Possibly. What do you want?”

“I don’t want a thing. Just a friendly chat.”

“Why not a friendly visit? You know my room number.”

Mair laughed. “I’m not stupid.”

A nurse entered the room, and Bella mouthed,
Police
. An instant later, one of the officers stood at her bedside. She jotted down,
Brandt Richardson’s wife. May be in the hospital. Tall blonde in her midforties.
The officer nodded and snatched up his radio. He rushed into the hall.

“Besides, I don’t want to be arrested either,” Mair continued.

“Brandt’s aim might be a little better next time.”

“He didn’t shoot you.”

“I’m sure he knows who did. What about the other four dead men?”

“If they’re dead, then it’s their own fault.”

Mair had hardened. Sad, but true. “Is that the reason you’re calling—to warn me?”

“Possibly. I don’t really want to see you dead, especially when you helped me with the kids.”

Bella needed to keep Mair on the phone. By now the policemen were looking for her. “What do you remember?”

“Oh, the sweet girl who worked hard and never gave us any trouble. Until—”

“You and Dad sold me to Brandt.”

Mair laughed. “He wasn’t serious.”

“Brandt or Dad?”

“Brandt, of course. Hey, gotta run.” The phone disconnected.

Mair had been in the hospital, and Brandt could have been with her. Bella leaned back against the pillow. So close. Like in the elevator at the hotel. He might be the master of disguise, but his little game of charades was about over.

Chapter 38

The following morning, the doctor released Bella. She had a two-page list to work through and wanted to start today. But she knew her strength would wane before she got to item number three.

From the backseat of Wesley’s squad car, Bella turned to Carr, once more thanking him for picking her up from the hospital, helping her gather up her belongings at the hotel, and allowing her to stay at the High Butte until she could again take a hotel room. Hopefully, the murderer would be arrested this week, and all of their lives could go back to normal.

Frank had volunteered to stay at the High Butte until they arrived. He had his own set of questions for Lydia and Jasper about the series of murders. Unfortunately, when Frank learned about Bella’s stand as a Christian, he’d be upset. He was agnostic and had no problem defending his views.

“You are amazingly radiant today,” Carr said. “Is it my charming personality?”

She laughed, and it felt good. Really good. “I had a date last night.”

A pained look spread over his face. “Now I’m crushed.”

“Oh, you could never compete.”

“Why’s that?” All traces of humor vanished from his face, and Bella knew without a doubt his feelings for her were sincere. Yet she refused to confess her feelings until this was over.

“I had a date with God.”

He grinned. “You go, girl. Your life will never be the same. Lydia will be ecstatic.”

“I want to tell her in person.” Bella glanced at her phone and saw she had a message. How had she missed this? Must have been when she was helping Carr pack her suitcase, which had been a little embarrassing. The call was from Frank. A twinge of sympathy for what she felt for Carr swept over her. Her reasons for abandoning a relationship with Frank tugged at her heart. She shared with him that her career came first. After all, part of the reason she wanted this assignment was for a promotion.
Not anymore.

Shaking away thoughts of romance with Carr and the multitude of problems an affair of the heart could cause, she listened to Frank’s message.

“I forgot to tell you I’ve requested Yvonne Taylor’s cell phone records,” Frank said. “I think you already did this, but I wanted to see if anything had changed. They’ll be sent to your phone, probably today.” She texted Frank and thanked him for the information.

“Good news?”

“Just a lead.” An idea had struck her while she was in the hospital concerning the technology available for modern medicine. Why not? She pressed in the number for Pete at the FIG in Houston. Glancing at Carr beside her, she realized she didn’t need to hide this from him. “Good morning, Pete. I’m looking for information on Brandt Richardson while he was in South America. Is it possible he could have had a medical procedure to repair his vocal cords? If there’s a remote possibility this could have happened, do some prying. Thanks. Yes, I’m feeling pretty good.” Bella glanced at Carr. “I have a great nurse.” She ended the call and dropped her BlackBerry into her shoulder bag.

Carr rolled his eyes. “Nurse? How about a hero or a knight? Better yet, a cowboy, a real John Wayne.” He hesitated. “Seriously, if Richardson has shed his hoarse voice, that opens a lot of possibilities. Along with his many disguises.”

“Exactly. He could be someone we trust, disguising his looks while we’ve been looking for a man with a distinct voice pattern.”

“So now you wait until they get back to you.”

She nodded. “James Bond.”

“Instead of John Wayne?”

“It’s all in the technology.”

Wesley drove on toward Ballinger, making small talk and forcing a laugh from both of them. Bella noted he kept a watchful eye on the rearview mirror. She appreciated what the county sheriff’s department was doing for her—and those she cared about. They talked about Carr’s childhood: his parents, who’d been professionals; his older brother, who followed in his father’s footsteps as a surgeon; and his grandmother, a devout Catholic.

“Tell me about the home for at-risk teen boys.”

He nodded. “I simply want it to be an opportunity for a second chance at life, like it was for me. God allowed me to have the High Butte Ranch for a purpose, and I think this is it. Before the investigation, I lined up a reputable fellow who would help with counseling and directing the boys’ aggressive behavior toward healthy outlets. Since then, he’s withdrawn his acceptance. Can’t blame him for not wanting to get involved. I’d also interviewed a couple of teachers to aid the boys in continuing their education or possibly obtaining their GED. Online learning is another option for those who want to advance their education. Lydia would be in charge of food and hiring domestic help, and Jasper would show them about ranching and taking on responsibilities. An activities director would work with Jasper and me for a balance of fun and chores. The one person I hadn’t been able to find yet is a youth minister.”

“What about yourself?”

“Hmm. Kent suggested I could fill the spot, and I have been taking distance and online classes for a biblical studies degree. Maybe I could.”

She so enjoyed talking to him without analyzing his word choice and body language. “You’d be perfect.”

“Well, until my name is officially cleared and arrests made, everything is on hold. Used to be, I thought bad luck trailed me wherever I went. But I think God is maturing my faith, taking me through a few challenges so I can better lead those boys.”

“I think you’re right.”

His gaze caught hers. She should look away and break the spell, except she was right where she wanted to be.

“Sure is quiet back there,” Wesley said.

Carr cleared his throat. “So now you’re a bodyguard turned chaperone?”

“Both. What do you think my uncle would have done?”

“Given us the same hard time as you are,” Carr said.

As Bella entered Ballinger, riding in the squad car and enjoying Carr’s company, all of her past thoughts about what she wanted for her life faded. How peculiar that here, in a part of the country she detested, she’d found a relationship with God and for the first time discovered honest feelings for a man. The past and the present had collided, and even with the uncertainties of the future, the world felt right.

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.”