Unlock the Truth (33 page)
Zeke pulled the rifle from Cyril’s hand. Blood ran down the old guy’s forehead and he sank to his knees on the rocky trail. It had been a perfect shot to the temple. Good for Zeke, all that high school sport had paid off.
The voices grew louder, calling for Dena.
“Over here,” she yelled back.
Within minutes, Deputy Ortiz and a couple of Sheriff’s deputies arrived. Stanton panted up the trail several moments later, and amidst exasperated glares at Dena and Zeke, he handcuffed Cyril and led him away.
Zeke pulled Dena tight to his chest. Neither one spoke for a moment, just held on tight.
“I love you,” he whispered into her hair.
“And I love you. Now let’s go and find your horse.”
Zeke put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, and they heard the clop of hooves as José came back around the bend.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Early the following morning, Dena sighed and poured another cup of coffee. They all sat at the table on the long back verandah of the hacienda.
“I’ll never get over the beauty of the desert,” Dena said, appreciating the latest shade of bluish-purple that colored the mountains. She thought this one might be her favorite.
Irma bustled about, still in shock, although she’d insisted on making everyone brunch. There were newspapers spread everywhere, and a small television played in the background. Debbie and Rachel came through the house, calling out to everyone and carrying more food.
Once everyone had settled back down, Rocky looked over at Zeke. “Will you rebuild the casita?”
“Yes, in some way,” Zeke said. “Sit down, Irma, you don’t look too good.”
“I should look good?” Irma’s dark eyes flashed as she waved her arms around. Then she picked up a bowl, and a wooden spoon, and stirred. “I come to work…casita is burned…everyone almost get killed…I learn Cyril was Isabella’s lover for many years…he is blackmailer…murderer.” She sat on the edge of a chair and shuddered. “I should look good?”
Manny laughed. “Mama, you forgot the good stuff, Zeke and Dena are in love.”
“Really?” Rachel asked.
“Told you so,” Debbie said, and grinned.
Manny looked from one woman to the other, and then shook his head. “Stanton told me I’m no longer under suspicion.”
“Gambling,” Irma said, and rapped his hand with the wooden spoon.
“Ouch.” Manny sucked at his knuckles.
“But why Cyril kill the two women?” Irma asked.
Rocky sighed heavily, and then lifted his bandaged leg down off the cushion. “Cyril was married. Then his wife died a couple of years ago, which I always thought was under suspicious circumstances, and he wanted to marry Isabella and merge both farms.”
“Yes,” Dena said. “Then he started to blackmail her—”
“Because she turned him down,” Rocky said. “She confessed her affair to me and swore me to secrecy.”
“But the young women?” Irma asked again.
“I was working at the church fair. Carli bought some necklaces and we flirted and talked. Some months later I met her again. It was just coming on summer, and Cyril was with me. He wanted an introduction.”
“And you did that?” Dena asked softly.
Rocky nodded. “I didn’t really know Carli, but we talked on the phone. She liked to tease, call me Bobby. It wasn’t until they discovered Susie’s body that I remembered Cyril said that Carli reminded him of Isabella. I aligned myself with him. Pretended I was willing to switch camps.”
“Then I came along and made a mess of things?” Dena asked.
“Not a mess,” Rocky said. “You blew things out of the water. Cyril got scared. I worried that you’d be harmed before I could prove anything, so I tried to run you out of town.”
“What was the thing with my telephone number?” Zeke asked.
“Stanton thinks Cyril put the slip of paper with your number in the women’s clothing before he buried them to cast suspicion. I convinced him you’d sell and I’d run the place. I figured that would keep Dena safe for a while, but I was wrong.”
Zeke looked across the table, smiled and raised an eyebrow. Dena smiled back, nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to say out loud, to those they loved, what they’d discussed in private.
“I think champagne is in order,” Zeke said.
“Okay, I get,” Irma said.
Manny leaned across the table and spoke softly. “I’m sorry Rocky, you know…for telling Dena of my suspicions without real proof.”
“Forget it,” Rocky said. “Isabella was like a mother to me…the only mother I’d ever known. When she asked me to forever keep her secret from Zeke, I had to say yes.”
“I understand that,” Zeke said. “But it was wrong of me to even slightly suspect you.”
“At least you didn’t shoot him,” Dena said.
Rocky grinned. “I was lucky Zeke believed in me enough to want to come find me and talk about it.” He looked up and gave Stanton, who walked through the door, a mock salute. “Stanton here was ready to sink a couple of bullets.” He laughed.
“Should have,” Stanton said, and ruffled Rocky’s hair. He sat down at the table next to Rachel. “How’s the leg?”
Rocky gave a little shake of his hand. “Pain comes and goes.”
Irma came back with a bottle of cold bubbly and a tray of glasses, and placed them on the table. “The casita, you rebuild?”
Zeke’s BlackBerry rang and he reached for it. “Hang on a minute.” He put the phone to his ear. “Yes,” he said. “I figured as much. Good, yes, send me copies of the checks by fax.”
“Endorsed and signed by Cyril, right?” Dena asked.
“Just like we figured,” he said with a nod, and then slid the BlackBerry into his pocket. He looked over at Stanton. “So even though he hasn’t confessed to the murders, you’ve got him on arson, and now proof of blackmail. Everything else will fall into place with the DNA results.”
Stanton nodded.
Dena let out a huge breath. Zeke had his demons put to bed. She’d begun to come to grips with her issues with her mother. Her mother was the one she’d wanted when in the midst of danger, and that spoke volumes.
“News is on,” Stanton said, and then nodded toward the television.
Dena looked up. A photograph of Carli, and one of Susie, flashed onto the screen. This time there was no panic attack when she saw their faces, but there was still sadness. There’d always be sadness. She looked up and met Zeke’s soft gaze. He understood, and she knew he’d always be there for her.
Susie and Carli’s murderer was behind bars, awaiting trial. Rocky had been released of his obligations to Isabella, and Manny was no longer under suspicion by the local cops. And Stanton was back in the good books again with the PD, and from what she could see, getting a knee massage from Rachel. Dena smiled. Carli and Susie could rest easily now.
Zeke leaned over, turned off the television. He popped the cork on the champagne bottle. “I’ll pull the remains of the casita down and rebuild. It will be a full guest house. I told Dena’s mother this morning that she’s welcome here any time. I’ll landscape it too.”
“Oh, plant some peace roses in memory of the three women we love,” Dena said, and clasped her hands tight. “They’re so pretty.”
“Peace roses?” Zeke said, and grinned slyly. “I was thinking of making it a granny-flat. Don’t know how peaceful it would be around here, especially if I can talk you into marriage.”
“Marriage…I’ve known you for a week.”
“Yeah, but when you know, you know.”
Dena laughed, and whacked him on the arm. “How would you like a wife who was a P.I.?”
“Ouch. See, see what I mean? No peace and quiet,” Zeke said, and feigned injury. He stood and poured champagne into the flutes. “If that was what you wanted, to work full time, have your own business, I could deal.”
“You’d have to,” Dena said. “Besides, you’ll go back to practicing law.”
“Uh uh.” Zeke shook his head. “I’ve got a farm to run.”
“Which reminds me, we have work to do,” Dena said. “We shouldn’t be sitting around and—”
“She’s such a slave-driver,” Zeke said. “We’ve got a chili-cook off and an art fair to arrange, all within a week. What was I thinking?”
Dena laughed. “Shut up, Cabrera. You love it. You adore being bossed around. But, I might forgo being a P.I.—”
“No, don’t,” Debbie said. “I could moonlight for you. I love mystery, and—”
“Hey, I thought you were moonlighting at Cliffs,” Rachel said with a pout.
Dena laughed. “Maybe Rocky should be my side kick.”
“Not me.” Rocky scowled and raised both hands.
“Hey,” Zeke said. “I almost forgot. We’ve got houseguests coming on Sunday.”
“Who?” Rocky asked.
“Jim and Hal, our buyers. I’ll call and ask them to come Saturday, for the chili cook-off.” Zeke tilted his head and gazed at Dena. “Would your mother, and Ruth, like to come down?”
“Oh,” Dena said. Her mother would be thrilled to be included. They’d talked earlier this morning. They’d cried too, over a lot of things, but mainly about being able to let Carli rest now. And her mother had confessed she’d only said those things about Zeke’s eyebrows because she’d suspected where Dena was and what she was attempting to do.
“Yes.” Dena smiled and nodded. She reached over and stroked Zeke’s hand with her thumb. “Thank you for thinking of them. They’d like that.”
“What are you going to do now the case is solved, Dena?” Rocky asked. “Are you going back to work in L.A.?”
Dena shook her head. “No. I’m serious about being a private investigator. I’m going to start a business down here.” She winked at Zeke. “Until I start making babies.”
Irma gasped, gripped her hands together over her heart, and her eyes filled with tears. “
Niňos
,” she whispered.
Zeke dropped a light kiss on Dena’s lips. “Yes, Irma. Children…and knowing Dena’s enthusiasm for new projects, the Cabrera name stands a good chance to live on, and on—”
“And on,” Rocky said.
Dena blushed and laughed, but placed a full champagne flute in front of everyone.
“Oh, and Rocky,” Zeke said. “I’m deeding you the old ranch house and the land east of the lake.”
“No,” Rocky said, wide-eyed.
“Yes. It’s a done deal. I called the lawyer this morning, my brother.” Zeke raised his glass. “A toast to Three C’s and…what will you name your land, Rocky?”
“The Isabella Ranch,” Rocky said, with no hesitation.
“To Three C’s and the Isabella Ranch.” Zeke smiled at Dena from above the rim of his glass. She winked back.
“To Three C’s and the Isabella Ranch,” everyone said in unison, and there wasn’t a dry eye at the table as the glasses clinked.
A word about the author...
Robena Grant writes contemporary romance about ordinary women who are thrust into extraordinary circumstances. Travel and discovering new places brings her great pleasure, and she often includes these discoveries in her stories.
She is Australian by birth, lives in Southern California, and has two grown children.
Robena may be contacted at www.robenagrant.com
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