Page 88 of Concrete Evidence
“That’s where the case goes foggy again. Hard to believe Buddy and Saundra would stoop to murdering their own daughter, but if they’re already complicit in the other murders, Avery may be considered collateral damage. On the other hand, Craig has had a spotless record since his teen years before the senator took him in. But greed can change a person’s priorities.”
“There’s no bequest for him in the senator’s will. Craig is better off with the senator free of any accusations, and he appears smarter than to cut a deal with Buddy and Saundra. If Craig planned to end up on top, he’d get rid of Avery and stay in the senator’s good graces.”
Shipley gripped his fist. “With both of them out of the picture, Buddy and Saundra would contest the will and have the potential to gain it all. But we need evidence, and believe me, we’ve looked.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“I’m not authorized to give you names. Just what I’ve told you.”
Marc tapped his finger on the steering wheel to keep from punching Shipley. “This is a sophisticated plan, and framing someone is a central part of it. The obvious culprits are the senator, Craig, Buddy and Saundra, and Avery. The dam’s construction and the murders point to all of them. Every one of them is incredibly intelligent. They’d not implicate themselves.”
“Looking beyond them, who has the most to gain and the most to lose?” Shipley said.
“For sure the owner of a blue Yamaha Tracer 9GT—the man who wears blue, gold, and red Nikes. A woman who phoned my mother looking for me and the woman who called me claiming to represent the senator’s allies. Add the person who stole my father’s gun, used a computer-generated voice to make threatening calls, and placed a GPS tracker on Avery’s car.”
“Vengeance. Someone who felt the senator cheated him.” Shipley huffed. “The motive could be political or business. And we’ve gone through a list already.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Not without permission.”
“I suggest getting permission. Now. I want to talk to the senator’s pastor and a recently fired ranch hand. I need the senator’s whereabouts.”
Shipley glanced at his watch. “He’ll be at the ranch’s main gate in about fifteen minutes.”
50
THE TIME NEARED 9P.M.,still early, but Avery longed to go to bed. Donita Wilkins had bid them good night thirty minutes before. Tough day in view of all that had happened.
Tessa sat with her in the media room engrossed in a Netflix documentary on the FBI. Avery liked her. A typical teen, like the ones Avery worked with at church. Tessa had a bit of old-soul wisdom. Strikingly beautiful too with incredibly smooth skin, and thick honey-colored hair. Avery smiled. Marc already had the protection gene going, and keeping the boys away from Tessa might be a bigger challenge than he faced with any FBI case.
The sound of heavy feet in the hallway caught her attention. Marc and Lieutenant Shipley must need to speak to her. Avery drew in a cleansing breath. For a few moments her mind had wandered to a calmer place than reality.
“Hey, sweet girl.” The man in the doorway startled her.
She flew into Granddad’s strong arms, fighting tears but not fighting love. The smell of the man who’d always loved her, guided her, and shared his insight ushered strength into her weary body. Bigger than life but still a man. She hesitated to let him go.
Thank You.
Stepping back, she saw the wetness in his blue eyes and swiped beneath her own. “I was afraid I’d never see you again.”
He touched her stitched arm, where she’d abandoned the sling earlier today. “My efforts to keep you safe failed.”
“I’m okay.” She scanned him from head to toe. He’d lost weight, and his weathered face offered a glimpse of the turmoil he’d suffered. “I have so many questions, but not now. Let me feast on having you home.”
She glanced behind him to see Lieutenant Shipley. Marc nodded. The lieutenant maintained a grim demeanor. Granddad’s arrival must not have his approval. But why?
“Gentlemen, I’d like a few minutes with my granddaughter before we talk business.”
“I’ll go to my room,” Tessa said.
Granddad made his way to the girl’s side. “No way. We’ll talk in the library.” He stuck out his hand, and she grasped it. “I’m Quinn Elliott.”
“I’m Tessa Wilkins.” She bit into her lower lip. “Your ranch is amazing.”
“Thank you.” Granddad turned his head slightly. “You favor your dad more than Marc, and you’re a whole lot prettier than either of them. Your dad thought you and Marc hung the moon. Wish you were here under better circumstances.”
“Me too.”
