Page 21 of A Mile of Ocean (Pelican Pointe #19)

T rent woke at seven to a loud pounding on the door.

“We’ve overslept,” he mumbled to Savannah, nestled beside him.

Groggy, she shoved her hair out of her eyes and tried to sit up, only to roll over on her side to pull the covers tighter. “Considering we didn’t go to bed until four, I’d say we’re entitled to a few more hours of sleep.”

The knocking continued.

“I’ll go see who wants to talk so badly they’re here at this hour,” Trent muttered as he fumbled pulling on his jeans and a shirt.

“I’m coming,” he shouted toward the front door.

He hobbled to the living room and jerked the door open. Eastlyn Parker stood on the stoop. “This couldn’t have waited until noon?”

“I’m glad to see you, too,” she said as she marched past him into the house. “Thanks for stopping by with an update because I’ve also been working on your case since the crack of dawn.”

“Sorry. Come on in. I’ll put on coffee. We were up late last night—or was it early this morning?—going through my grandmother’s safe. She stuffed it with a lot of documents after Granddad died that explains what set this off—an ugly land grab that resulted in a lawsuit—that’s lasted for years.”

“Yeah? Well, Cooper has questions. He’ll be here at nine to go over his list with the Duchess. Feel free to attend the meeting. He discovered the de Havilands were a piece of work. Everything your grandmother told him about her family is a lie.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” he muttered, heading into the kitchen, and she followed. He took a bag of coffee from the cabinet, which was already ground, and grabbed a filter. After measuring two large scoops into an ancient Mr. Coffee, the brewing cycle kicked in with a noisy start.

“At this stage, nothing about the de Havilands would surprise me. But I can tell you this much. The Duchess must be making her family proud. We think she knew who caused our parents’ accident twenty-two years ago. But said nothing about it.”

“What kind of parent would do that?” Eastlyn asked.

“Hey, I’m just getting started. She even demanded that my grandfather stop talking about it. And that’s not all. We have a madman doing this because she inherited a five-hundred-acre ranch in 1970 called the Triple C from an old man in Wyoming. No one knows why he passed over his relatives in Oklahoma and made her his beneficiary. But that’s what happened. However, the big question for us is this. If Granddad was the one who worked the ranch and this guy wanted to disinherit his relatives, then why wasn’t Barrett the beneficiary instead of his wife? Why did Deanne de Haviland get the ranch? See my point? It doesn’t sit well. My grandfather didn’t even want it. He came to California after the guy died and started his own business. It was his dream. On the other hand, Deanne decided to run that ranch from here, something she never told anyone, something she kept hidden from my grandfather for years until recently when he received a letter exposing her little secret.”

“This five-hundred-acre ranch, by any chance was the owner Noble Colter?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because the fingerprints off the notebook matched back to Colter Zedekiah Bohannon, age forty-three, of Stillwater, Oklahoma. His prints were on file because he had been arrested during a college brawl when he was twenty-two. He served six months in jail for assault but doesn’t have so much as a speeding ticket since then.”

“Until he decided to forego the legal battles and go to war with us,” Trent asserted. “Look, the documentation in the safe proves that Josiah Bohannon and his heirs tried every way possible to get their uncle’s land back for the last fifty years. They put their faith in the court system, and it failed them. When the courts ruled against them, they offered three million dollars to get it back. This entire time, their belief was that Deanne de Haviland had fleeced their uncle, Noble Colter, and conned him into leaving her his ranch, the Triple C, back in 1970. The will had already been probated by the time Josiah, an out-of-state relative, found out his uncle had died.”

“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you, Trent,” Eastlyn explained. “Cooper discovered that that’s the kind of dirty dealings the de Havilands are known for throughout Wyoming. They didn’t discover gold, at least not on their own, not the way the Duchess told the story. Her grandfather, William de Haviland, stole someone’s mine and claimed it as his own. That was another court battle—from 1900 to 1920—that raged on for two decades until the man pursuing it died of a heart attack.”

Trent scrubbed his hands over his face. “So, what you’re saying is the de Havilands have a history of deceit and underhanded dealings that go back a hundred years or more, and it seems like it’s all coming to a head now with the land dispute and a very determined, maybe even demented, relative of Josiah Bohannon.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Noble Colter’s family has been fighting to reclaim the Triple C Ranch for years, convinced that Deanne de Haviland swindled it from him. And now, with Colter Bohannon taking matters into his own hands, things have escalated to where we are now, the toxicity reaching a violent level.”

Trent paced the kitchen, the weight of the revelations settling heavily on his shoulders. “So, we’re caught in a battle that spans decades, all because of one woman’s greed and deception.”

“Do you think she swindled Colter out of his land?”

“There’s only one way to find out. Tate’s already gunning to confront her. Cooper’s meeting gives us the perfect opportunity to do that.”

“In the meantime, we have a warrant out for Colter Bohannon,” Eastlyn noted. “There were no human remains found in the debris at the shack. So, it figures his ploy didn’t work. I know all about trying to lure him in, hoping he takes the bait. But be careful, Trent. I don’t think this Bohannon guy thinks he has anything to lose. And he’s not going down without a fight.”

“I know that. We’ll all be sitting ducks if this doesn’t work.”

Trent, Savannah, and Tate entered the main house during breakfast when all the guests—Birk and Beckett, Lucien and Brogan, Hawk, Lincoln, Drum, and Brock Childers, who was still recovering from his injury—were enjoying their meal in the dining room.

“I hear the genealogy project is going well,” Tate announced as she forked over two pieces of cinnamon toast onto her plate.

“And I hear Cooper has scheduled a meeting with you at nine this morning to go over what he found out,” Trent said to his grandmother, who looked surprised.

“I’m still deciding whether or not I want to talk to the two of you,” Duchess replied, her voice laced with an icy tone.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tate said with a shrug. “We’ll do most of the talking. We’d like to invite our guests to hear what Cooper has to say.”

Duchess glanced around the table. “Absolutely not. The project is a private family matter. I’m not even sure I want you two attending.”

“We invited ourselves,” Trent said, spreading his arms wide. “We decided the more, the merrier. Everyone in this room is fighting to hold onto the ranch, right? They deserve to know what’s going on. Tate and I want everyone to learn what Cooper discovered about the Callums and especially the de Havilands. It’s only fair.”

Duchess remained silent for a moment, eyeing Trent and Tate warily, her grip tightening around the handle of her coffee cup. “And just what have you discovered that’s so notable you want to air it publicly?”

Tate exchanged a knowing look with Trent before answering, “We didn’t discover anything. You wanted Cooper to dig deep, and he has. He’s uncovered some unsettling information about the history of the de Havilands and their connection to just about everyone in Wyoming. It’s not the pretty picture you painted.”

“It seems your family goes back a long way,” Trent said, sipping his coffee. “They have a notorious history. We should let Cooper lay it all out on the table. He probably has a spreadsheet, maybe even a PowerPoint presentation.”

The other guests exchanged curious glances, their interest piqued by the cryptic conversation unfolding before them.

“We thought it best to gather everyone together to shed light on the truth,” Trent added, his tone firm. Duchess’s composure faltered briefly before she regained her icy demeanor. “I’m not sure what game you two think you’re playing, but this is hardly the time or the place for such discussions.”

“Oh, but it is, Duchess. It’s the perfect time to air our family secrets,” Tate proclaimed. “I mean, I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of, and neither has Trent. Granddad was pretty honest in his dealings with everyone. That only leaves you with something to hide. And we really need to turn the spotlight on that dark corner you’ve been keeping to yourself.”

The grande dame’s eyes darted between Trent and Tate in cold fury. Eventually, she set her cup down, her hands trembling. “We’ll see what Cooper Richmond offers up. It doesn’t mean any of it is true.”

“Genealogy is all about digging deep into public records,” Trent explained. “Hard to proclaim it’s all a lie before you’ve heard the evidence.”

“What’s going on, Trent?” Birk asked.

“Before we try to pull off a ruse this afternoon, we need to listen to what Cooper has to say. I had a long talk with Eastlyn this morning. She knows the identity of our mystery guy,” Trent said, staring straight at his grandmother. “We need to ask our hostess if she knows a man named Josiah Bohannon from Stillwater, Oklahoma?”

“I don’t know who you mean,” Duchess stated haughtily.

“Are you sure about that?” Tate prompted. “Because you’ve been fighting him in court for the last fifty years in some way or another. That’s a long time not to know his name. You’ve repeatedly promised him one thing but failed to deliver on anything. We think your decisions have finally caught up with you because Josiah has this son who’s not taking losing his great-uncle’s ranch as well as his dad did all those years ago.”

The doorbell rang, breaking the bombshell moment.

When Dolly showed Cooper into the dining room, the silence was deafening. The man with chestnut hair graying slightly at the temples carried a laptop bag and a briefcase. He sent everyone a wide smile, his blue eyes glowing with a neighborly demeanor. “Sorry to interrupt breakfast, but I have a list of questions before continuing the research,” he announced. “Nothing seems to be adding up.”

The Duchess Callum sat at the head of the table, chin in the air, glaring at her grandchildren. “I didn’t realize hiring the husband of a cop to do a genealogy project meant that you’d turn into an amateur detective yourself, nosing around in things that are none of your business.”

Cooper’s smile widened. “Eastlyn is a very thorough cop, especially when things don’t add up. As the old saying goes, she’s like a dog with a bone. As for me, I’ve found something I enjoy doing that goes hand in hand with what she does—solving mysteries—like a forensic accountant. For me, genealogy is more than a pie chart or locating your distant cousins. It’s a venue for an amateur detective to flex his skillset.”

“It’s wonderful to have you and your skillset here,” Savannah said cheerily. “Have a seat. I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Anything to eat? There’s plenty to choose from. How about a delicious cinnamon roll? Dolly makes them fresh every morning.”

“Sure. I’ll have that,” Cooper said, removing his jacket before hanging it on the back of his chair. He removed his laptop and opened his briefcase. “Did I interrupt anything important?”

Beckett cleared his throat. “I think you must hold the key to all the madness we’ve been dealing with here. We’re waiting to hear the rest of this unsettling discovery you’ve made.”

Cooper turned serious. “I don’t know about unsettling. But Mrs. Callum asked me to do a deep genealogy dive into the history of the families. I think she expected a simple pie chart. I developed quite a bit more by utilizing newspaper articles, archives from libraries, and public records.”

“We’re all ears,” Tate prompted.

Savannah set a cup of coffee and a gigantic sweet roll in front of Cooper. “Something tells me you’ll need the caffeine and sugar kick in a few minutes.”

“I’m sure I will,” Cooper uttered before opening his laptop. “Barrett’s background was straightforward. He grew up in a group home in the late 1930s and into the 1940s, known as an orphanage outside Nashville called Brighton Children’s Home, founded in 1892. He never knew his parents. But I found his birth certificate. He was born to Louellen Callum in 1938. His father had died of respiratory failure earlier that year, leaving his mother to try and make ends meet. However, she also developed a severe infection after giving birth to her son and sadly succumbed to her illness when the baby was just six months old. Unable to find any relatives and with nowhere else to go, the authorities put him in institutional care, where he stayed until he joined the Army at seventeen. His military career lasted almost nine years with a stint overseas in Vietnam, training the South Vietnamese Army how to fight. He was awarded several medals for it.”

“He kept talking about seeing California,” Duchess added. “From the moment I met him, all he talked about was seeing the ocean, living near it, and having horses. He was a dreamer.”

“What was your dream?” Trent asked.

Duchess narrowed her eyes on her only grandson. “I wanted something of my very own, something I didn’t have to share with anyone else.”

“Like the Triple C back in Green River,” Tate implied.

“What became of the Triple C Ranch once Noble Colter died?” Cooper interjected. “Barrett worked there for six years until Colter died. He learned everything about ranching from Colter. But you’re the one who inherited the ranch, not Barrett, skipping all blood relatives.”

“Can I help it if Mr. Colter took a liking to me?” Duchess said with a wry smile. “I was quite captivating even back then.”

“That’s the problem,” Trent began. “It’s the very thing that Noble Colter’s nephew, Josiah Bohannon, fears happened. His entire family thinks you conned him into leaving you everything.”

“I’ve heard this bullshit for fifty years,” Duchess said, slamming her fist down on the table. She tossed her napkin to the side and stood up. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this garbage at my own breakfast table.”

“I thought you’d never heard of him before,” Tate accused. “I can’t keep up with the lies. Sit back down. You’re not going anywhere. We’re not letting you off the hook to sweep this under the rug this time. You’re not evading our questions the way you have previously. We deserve the truth from you. Did you suspect Josiah of causing Mom and Dad’s accident twenty-two years earlier?”

A horrified look crossed her face as she dropped back into the chair.

But Tate didn’t let up. “Mr. Bohannon tried taking you to court but lost several times over the years. Then he tried offering you three million dollars for the ranch. You even signed an agreement saying you’d return the ranch to him and his family but then backed out on the offer. A Stillwater bank was ready to wire you the money until you backed out of the deal. That happened a year before Mom and Dad died. Did a furious relative from Noble Colter’s family tree show up and shoot the tire out on Dad’s truck because you kept stonewalling him? Is that why Granddad was so upset with you when you refused to pursue anything that had to do with the accident? You even refused to discuss his suspicions. But he didn’t really have all the facts then, did he? He didn’t know what we know now. Because you knew who had caused the accident and didn’t want to rock the boat. You wanted him to stop asking questions about the accident, pursuing it. By then, you had clearly been running the Triple C by long distance, making occasional trips back there under the false pretense of visiting family.”

Trent picked up the cross-examination. “You didn’t want him to discover that you hadn’t returned the ranch to the family. You let him think you had signed the necessary paperwork until he got that certified letter a couple of days before he died. How much blood is on your hands, Duchess? How many more deaths must happen before you do the right thing?”

Duchess got to her feet again. “I’ve done nothing wrong. The courts agreed with me. Noble Colter’s will was deemed valid. It’s not my fault this monster escalated the situation to where we are now. You can’t blame me for any of this. And I demand that you stop these ridiculous accusations immediately. The Bohannon family has been a thorn in my side for too long. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It sounds like you’re all on their side. They murdered your grandfather.”

Trent looked at Tate. “See? She’s never going to get it. She will never admit that if only she’d followed through twenty-three years earlier and handed over the ranch for three million, Mom and Dad might still be alive.”

“And Grandad would definitely still be with us,” Tate said as she shot daggers toward Duchess.

But the grande dame remained steadfast and marched out of the room without another word, leaving her guests speechless.