Free Pursuit of Justice by DiAnn Mills

treasure-digging tools or gambled it away. He and Brandt were partners back then, both men determined to get rich by finding the buried cache of sixty-four million dollars in gold on their dirt-poor ranch. But as much as she detested her father and what he’d done, would he resort to murder? She took in the surroundings, keeping her emotions deep inside. Of course he would.
    If she had cell phone access, she’d have called Pete at Houston FIG to request a full report on Stanton Warick. Bella rubbed her finger across her forehead. She’d see if a text to Pete would go through and at least get him started on the process. Three men dead, all looking for the Spider Rock treasure. Brandt Richardson was wanted for murder-for-hire. Carr Sullivan had a record of violence and evidence against him, and her own father could be knee-deep in the whole mess.

Chapter 7
    Carr sensed his anger festering like a boil. Special Agent Bella Jordan believed he’d killed those men, and no matter what he did or said, she continued on the same dead-end road. Bad pun. His stomach churned with what the future might hold. The charges. A trial. The weeks and months of waiting. He eased the truck into reverse, turned around, and drove through the pasture back toward the house. Three hours in the blazing sun while she talked to deputies and snapped pictures. When she wasn’t speaking into her little handheld recorder, she made notes.
    Bella looked at him with a half smile, as if he were nothing more than a cockroach. What happened to a man being innocent until proven guilty?
    “I want to know why you think I’m guilty.” He stopped the truck and hung his left arm over the steering wheel. Angus grazed peacefully on both sides. Two mares and their foals added to a picturesque memento of how he’d viewed his life until Monday.
    She tossed him a curious look. “Who said I did?”
    “You. Every word spoken or unspoken. I read people well enough to tell when hostility rules the moment. Is this another rung in your ladder toward a fat FBI promotion?”
    She winced for a fraction of a second, and he caught it.
    “Be careful, lady; your fangs are showing.”
    Anger peaked in her green eyes. “I resent your unfounded accusations.”
    “And I resent your assumption that I murdered those men.” His voice had risen with each word. “Seems to me you’re looking for ways to pin this on me instead of looking for evidence leading to the real murderer.”
    “I really don’t care what you think. I have a job to do.”
    “I bet the sooner you get back to your air-conditioned office in Houston, the sooner you’ll be sitting in a new office.” He looked away. Losing his temper didn’t prove a thing but his lack of control—and lack of control was what killed three men. His outburst would do nothing but move him higher on her list of suspects. He took a deep breath and then another. Putting his truck into drive, he drove on.
    Once at the house, he saw Darren had not returned. Two deputies lingered with Vic on his back porch drinking his bottled water. Carr exited his truck and made deliberate steps to the back door, forcing himself to greet the three men. Anger jutted from the pores of his skin like barbed wire. He paid taxes and obeyed the law. He followed Christ and studied His Word. What more could he do?
    Swinging open the door, he ushered Bella inside like a proper gentleman. But his thoughts were not conducive to attributes of a godly man.
    Lydia met them in the kitchen. She blinked but said nothing about his apparent dissatisfaction with what had transpired. “Sheriff Adams said he’d be back around four.”
    Not soon enough, in his opinion. “I’ll be upstairs.”
    “I have more questions for you,” Bella said.
    “I’ll be upstairs.”
    Silence drummed on between them.
    “I’m being a jerk,” he said. “Sorry.”
    “I’ve been known to have better people skills.” She blew out a sigh. “I’m sure there are more bags of trash for me