Pursuit of Justice (25 page)

Read Pursuit of Justice Online

Authors: DiAnn Mills

Tags: #Suspense

BOOK: Pursuit of Justice
9.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter 46

Bella slowly opened her eyes. Was that her phone alerting her to a text message? Her gaze flew to the clock radio on the nightstand: 4:00. Yesterday morning had been 4:15 when she climbed out of bed for the drive to Junction. Some days she hated being a light sleeper. Snatching up her phone, she saw Frank wanted her to call him. This could not be good. She quickly pressed in his number on the landline.

“Hi, Frank, what’s going on?”

“Yvonne Taylor’s body was found outside a bar in Austin. Bullet in her head.”

“Oh no.” Bella remembered the conversation with Yvonne, hoping the woman would help in the investigation. “Unfortunately, it looks like I was right about her involvement.”

“Dead right.”

She brushed her hand across her face to sharpen her senses. “How many more will have to die before we catch him?” The memory of the attractive woman who had swallowed Brandt’s charms filled her with regret—and anger.

“If she’d come to us, we could have placed her in protective custody.”

“Either Brandt followed me that day or she contacted him after my visit. From her expression when I showed her the photos, she recognized one of his disguises. Which confirms that he was the fourth person on the team.”

“Bella, do you have any idea who’s working with him? Whoever it is has a bird’s-eye view of everything we do.”

Frank only asked her questions like this when he was fresh out of ideas. “I’ve suspected Carr, Darren—and he might have been involved, but that means there’s someone else. Vic was on my list for a while and Stanton Warick,” she said. “Warick has my vote, but he’s giving the impression of being an upright citizen.”

“I hear the sarcasm.”

“Perhaps that’s all it is. I’m working from a biased point of view.” She let the personalities of those around her settle. “Frank, I appreciate your calling me about Yvonne’s death, and I also appreciate your asking me what I think. Yesterday afternoon I asked for a full report on Aros Kemptor, the attorney handling New Hope’s legal dealings. A couple of his transactions look suspicious.”

“Hadn’t heard of him.”

“Kemptor may not be his real name. I’ll let you know as soon as I learn something.”

“What have you found? You know I hate not knowing every detail of an investigation.”

“Not sure. It has to do with raising funds for a building project. Carr handed over his mineral rights to the church and willed his ranch to them too. Kemptor is either looking out for numero uno or sincerely interested in growing his church.”

“I want that report as soon as you get it.”

“I’ve already asked them to copy you.”

Frank sighed, another of his habits when he was changing his topic of conversation. “How are you feeling?”

“Getting stronger every day.”

“Ready to move from the High Butte to a hotel?”

No, but how do I explain my reasons?
“This location keeps me close to the assignment.”

“I can get a two-bedroom suite. No problem.”

Not so long ago, she wouldn’t have thought twice about such an arrangement. But given her recent decision to draw closer to Christ, and knowing the standard of purity to which He wanted her to aspire, she didn’t feel right about it now.

“I can’t stay with you in a hotel room, Frank.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have any problem staying at the High Butte Ranch with Carr Sullivan.”

He had a point. “Jasper and Lydia live here too. Plus Wesley is my bodyguard from seven to seven and another deputy does night duty.” She took another breath. “My room is beside Jasper and Lydia’s, and Carr’s room is upstairs.”

“I’m no fool. I see what’s going on between you two, and it has nothing to do with the task force or religion.”

Four o’clock in the morning was not the right time to discuss personal issues. If there ever was a good time. “Frank, you remember I grew up in church. I never made a decision to follow Christ then, but I have now. No matter how I feel about Carr or you or any other man, I’m not going conduct myself the same way as before.”

“Thanks a lot. Good to know our relationship meant nothing to you.”

She was starting to feel edgy—real edgy. “That’s not fair, and it’s definitely not true. What I mean—”

“Never mind. We’ll talk about our relationship, or lack of one, when this case is closed. I care enough about you to want the best. Get back with me as soon as you can about Kemptor.” He ended the call before she could say another word.

With her mind whirling like an F5 tornado, she climbed out of bed and struggled to slip a robe on over her bandaged arm. Carr had an espresso maker in the kitchen that made single cups of the best coffee in the world. She needed one and could possibly offer a cup to the deputy posted outside the front door. More importantly, she wanted to sort through her notes about Aros Kemptor. The attorney
could
be looking out for the church’s best interests. But Bella wanted to find out if he’d taken advantage of other members’ financial holdings and mineral rights. As soon as daylight marched across the sky, she’d contact Pastor Kent.

Oops.
She’d see him at church this morning. And Aros Kemptor too. For sure, she’d obtain Kemptor’s fingerprints. Her first time to church in years and she planned to work on the investigation while worshiping God. Something about that didn’t seem reverent.

“Can’t sleep?” Lydia’s sweet voice brought a smile to Bella’s lips. “Or are you planning another escape from the High Butte?”

“No wild morning rides today. Just received a call from Frank.”

“Trouble?”

“New information. I need a little caffeine to do some processing.”

“Would you like for me to leave you alone?”

Bella remembered Lydia’s daughter was the secretary at New Hope’s business office. “Actually, you might be able to help me.”

“Then I’ll put on a whole pot.”

A few moments later, the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirled through the air, and the two sat at the kitchen table in their robes sipping on the most perfect brew known to mankind.

“I have a magnet on my refrigerator that says, ‘A morning without coffee is like sleep,’” Bella said.

Lydia rested her chin on her palm. “I agree.”

Bella took a breath. “I’d like to talk to your daughter, the one who works at New Hope.”

“She’s our only daughter.” Lydia smiled. “I was wondering when you’d want to talk to her. I assumed since she works for Pastor Kent that you’d want to ask her a few questions.”

Smart woman.
“Exactly. Does she talk to you about her position at New Hope?”

“Hmm.” Lydia handed her a napkin, and Bella placed the spoon on it after she’d stirred more honey into her coffee. “I’ve heard her say that the devil does his best work in churches.”

“Probably so with politics and such. My aunt Debbie says it’s impossible for Christians to agree in an argument. Everybody’s right because they all prayed about it.”

“We must drive God crazy with the way we treat each other. But back to my daughter’s position at New Hope. She keeps her views to herself, so I’m not much help. Except I don’t want her to know about the threat.”

Bella nodded. “Has she ever mentioned Aros Kemptor?”

Lydia shook her head. “I could ask.”

“No need. I’ll talk to her Monday morning. Wouldn’t want to bother her at church.”

“Is this a private party?” Carr stood in the doorway. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with tousled hair and sleep-laden eyes, he looked . . . well, too appealing. She needed to guard her emotions.

“Sorry to wake you.” Bella meant it. She’d put him through a rough time at last night’s ball game, and she’d heard him pace the floor above her long after midnight.

“I followed my nose, and the coffee was more enticing than sleep.”

“Horsefeathers,” Lydia said. “You’re nosy.”

He proceeded to pour himself a cup of coffee. “I’m a man, and I wanted to make sure that two beautiful women weren’t talking about me.”

“Men.” The lines around Lydia’s eyes deepened. “Must it always be about you?”

“Of course.” He scooted back a chair and eased into it. He glanced at Bella. “I’ve been thinking about Aros.”

“And?”

“Impossible. No man would spend a year giving away money and volunteering his time and resources unless God was a priority.”

Bella took a sip from her mug. “Oh, really? What if he’d planned it that way?”

“Do you suspect every person you come in contact with?” Carr said.

Bella lifted a brow, slightly amused. But she quickly saw his question bordered on irritation. “I suspected you, didn’t I?”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “You did.”

My suspicions really bother him.
“Tell me more about Kemptor. Convince me I’m on a rabbit trail. And think about the information he could have given to Brandt about you.”

“Nothing points to it. The man has offered me legal advice. And he did not coerce me into giving the church mineral rights or naming New Hope in my will. That was all me. Aros . . .” He stopped. “Maybe not all me.”

Good. Carr was thinking through past conversations with the lawyer. “He could have used your generosity to his benefit.”

He frowned. “I think you’re wrong on this one.”

“I’m checking the paperwork tomorrow.” She felt the tension. Lydia quietly slipped from the chair and the kitchen and returned to her and Jasper’s room. “If he worked for Brandt, then having access to your mineral rights would put them in an advantageous position. They could find the gold and haul it out without anyone knowing. If you caught on to what was happening, then you could be killed, and the ranch would belong to them.”

“Then why murder four men—”

“Five, but the fifth is a woman. Daniel Kegley’s fiancée.”

Carr grimaced. “When did this happen?”

“Frank woke me at four.”

He rubbed his palms together, his face grim. “I sure need church this morning.”

“So do I.” The thought struck her again that worshiping God while gathering fingerprints for a murder investigation might not be exactly what He had in mind. Especially since this would be her first trip to church since becoming a Christian.

“You know Aros will be there,” Carr said. “In fact, it’s his Sunday to distribute bulletins.”

Thank You.
“Is he the only one?”

“No. One of the youth will be passing them out too.”

“Would you do me a favor?”

When he hesitated, she leaned closer. “This may go a long way in proving Aros innocent or guilty.”

“Okay.” He breathed out a sigh.

“You take one of his bulletins, and I’ll take one from the youth.”

“Sneaky, aren’t you?” A faint grin met her gaze, and she knew his apprehension had been appeased.

“It’s called training.”

He took her left hand and kissed it. Not since her days in the hospital had he displayed what she saw in his eyes. “I’ll be so glad when this is over. Last night at the ball game scared the daylights out of me. You nearly died on us before, and I didn’t want to go through that again. Sounds selfish, I know. But I’m tired of funerals.”

“It’s my job, Carr. What I do.” She placed her other hand over top of his and remembered the flying trip in the ambulance when the calluses on his hands and his audible prayer comforted her. “I know this is difficult for you to understand. The very idea of someone you call a friend being a part of all these murders has to keep you in a panic mode.” She remembered Darren, who might have been involved too.

“It’s more than that.”

She understood what he didn’t say. “I think the time has come for me to find somewhere else to stay until arrests are made.”

“No way. Here I have some sort of control over your safety. Don’t you know how I feel about you by now?”

Bella wished Lydia hadn’t left them alone. “Those feelings could put you in danger.”

“I don’t care.”

She desperately needed the right words to convince him of the need to separate. “Aren’t you concerned about your reputation—with a single woman as a guest at your home?”

He laughed. “I’ve been accused of murder. Lydia is here. A deputy is within earshot at all times. Jasper is close by. Frank pops in and out as well. My reputation? You’d better come up with a better excuse than that one, Special Agent Jordan.”

“Still, it’s a reality.” She glanced at the clock. “Can’t believe it’s six o’clock.”

“The youth are having a pancake and sausage breakfast this morning at seven thirty. Proceeds go to church camp.”

“I can be ready.”

“What about spending the afternoon with me?”

“Doing what?”

“There’s an old man who works at the McDonald’s in Junction,” Carr said. “He likes pretty ladies, and I want to make sure he’s not after mine.”

Bella caught the twinkle in his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope. You said you had more questions for him.”

“And if we’re followed?”

“I have a one-armed FBI agent to protect me.”

If Bella pressured him, she’d probably discover this was a ploy to spend time with her alone. Then again, she did want to ask Shep Wither a few more questions.

Chapter 47

Bella settled back in the comfort extraordinaire of Carr’s plush truck. She adjusted the seat and the lumbar position, and if she didn’t watch it, she’d drift off to sleep. But catching up on rest was postponed until she no longer found it necessary to keep watch through the truck’s side mirror.

“I’m sorry Shep wasn’t working today or at home,” she said.

“Maybe they went to Vegas.”

“Doubt it. He and God are pretty tight.”

“Uh, but he has a live-in girlfriend.”

She tossed him a why-didn’t-I-think-of-that look.

Carr laughed. “I’ve been reading up on my distance-learning FBI training. And I was anxious to evaluate how you handled him—and his girlfriend.”

“You would have enjoyed him. Even if you are jealous.”

“Ah. Now I know I’ll be back. The area reminds me of wanting to drive to the livestock auction in Junction.”

What if the only excitement in her life were baseball games, pancake breakfasts, and an occasional livestock auction? Her mind drifted while she continued to focus on the side mirror.

From Junction, the white, rocky hills looked like balding men scattered among mesquite trees. She rolled down her window and smelled the dry air, hinting of another era when air-conditioning was unheard of. She’d spent many an hour as a girl thinking about historical Texas and what it might have been like to live back then.

Bella’s mind slipped back in time. She could hear the cattle drivers snapping their whips and calling out to the livestock.
“Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’. Keep them dogies rollin’.”
She inwardly laughed, realizing she was having a good time all by herself. What would Carr say if he could read her musings?

How could she despise a terrain and embrace it at the same time? Memories of the girl who desperately wanted to be loved wrapped around her heart. Would it have been different then if she’d known Christ? Possibly so. Unfortunately, she might have been more easily convinced to obey Dad and marry Brandt.

Her attention focused on the ever-turning windmills pumping water to livestock. Clear blue skies with an occasional puff of a cloud, rising like the smoke from an old man’s pipe. She’d forgotten all of this.

They passed huge ranches, many bordered by stone fences that often had fancy gates for the more affluent ranchers. The abundance of stone added to the beauty of homes as the glistening rock exuded natural beauty. The stones had their disadvantages too. Rattlers loved to hide under their coolness, and they also plagued any man wanting to till the ground or a woman who desired a vegetable or flower garden. The realistic person realized the land was good only for cattle, horses, sheep, and goats.

The only thing that bloomed with regularity were wildflowers and the cacti and prickly pear in spring. A few fields held hay and grain, but not many. Those who fancied prickly pear jellies, peppers, and whatever else a creative cook could muster had plenty of produce for the trade. Some ranchers claimed to grow oil—those were the ones who had the money to put back into their land. And any small town worth much to the community had a Dairy Queen, a Sonic, and a camouflage flag waving
Open
for the hunters.

If given a choice, she’d have been a Comanche in this area and pitched her tepee along the Colorado River. Lived out her days keeping her warrior happy and tending to their children. She’d tan deer hide or whatever animal her warrior brought in and never complain about cleaning fish. Sure would beat running down a serial murderer.

“Where are you?” Carr said. “Besides noting every vehicle behind us.”

“Daydreaming.”

“About us?”

“Don’t you wish?” He hadn’t been that far off. “Do you like pecan pie? I’m hungry.”

He laughed. “I’ve been tossed aside for a pie. But yes. I own a large pecan orchard in Oklahoma. Want to go there?” He slowed as they entered a small town.

He never ceased to surprise her. “Not today. But it sounds like fun.” A large banner stretched across the street and welcomed them with Season’s Greetings. “Oh, my goodness. Are those Christmas lights? I didn’t notice these the other day.”

“Figures,” he said. “This is probably where you were talking to me about Aros.”

Reality registered. “Thanks for the church bulletin. It’s safe in my shoulder bag.”

“Your one-hundred-pound purse probably contains land mines.”

“Keep thinking that, and we’ll do just fine.” She noted a Jeep had followed them for the past ten miles or so. “Did you tell anyone where we were going?”

“Only Lydia. The Jeep has your attention too? What if I turn onto the next road?”

“Go for it.” She snatched up her cell and phoned the operations center in Houston. “I suspect I’m being followed. Can’t read the license plate; I’m—” Her cell no longer had connectivity. “We’re on our own.”

“Looks like those days of dodging cops while under the influence might have paid off.”

She took another look at the Jeep. “That’s comforting. Did you outrun them?”

“All but once.” Carr turned onto a country road on the left. “I apologize for early this morning. Didn’t mean to be so harsh about Aros.”

“No problem.”

“Kent trusts him, and I do too. But I thought of something during the sermon that I wanted to toss by you. Kent spoke about how King David mourned for those in his army who had betrayed him. Caused me to think about Aros. Kent is a dynamic preacher and counselor. He’s a man of vision but not necessarily a man of business. That’s why he has surrounded himself with deacons who have the expertise he lacks. However, he has been known to make an inappropriate decision—like all of us.”

“What are you trying to say, Carr?”

“Not enough time has elapsed for Aros to present my mineral rights papers to the deacons. On the other hand, would Kent ask him to present anyone’s donation? He may want to protect the giver’s privacy.”

“Fine line of anonymity there. Tomorrow we’ll have a better picture of who Aros is and what he represents.”

“Impatience is my middle name. How far down this road do we go until we backtrack?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Bella’s cell phone rang, and she saw the caller was Pete from FIG. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Just received an update on Richardson.”

Her pulse quickened. “Okay. Bring it on.”

“While in Mexico City, he had surgery to repair his vocal cords. From what we’ve learned, his voice is now normal.”

“Thanks. I appreciate this. I’d already figured out that he’d had surgery, and this verifies it. I’ll get the info out to the task force.” She ended the call and hit speed dial for Frank. While she waited for him to answer, she glanced at Carr. “I’ll explain as soon as I talk to Frank.”

What if Brandt had said he was Higgins when he met with the old man in Junction? Wither needed round-the-clock protection. Preferably a trip out of Junction. Two items to talk over with Frank.

Other books

Desert Rain by Lowell, Elizabeth
Stolen Wishes by Lexi Ryan
Crawlers by John Shirley
Weekend Wife by Carolyn Zane