Page 22 of A Mile of Ocean (Pelican Pointe #19)
“D oes anyone want to hear what else I discovered about the de Havilands?” Cooper asked before nibbling his cinnamon roll.
“Everyone wants to know,” Birk replied, picking up his coffee cup. “This is fascinating stuff. And here I thought we might never get to the motive behind all this.”
“The background explains a lot about this crazy mess,” Brogan said. “Think about it. You have a motivated man bent on revenge for something that happened in 1974. The guy running around on the ranch wasn’t even born yet, although he’s picked up the fight and taken it to new heights. As he sees it, his father and his family were cheated out of a rightful inheritance, and the courts slapped them back at every turn. I didn’t have that one on my bingo card.”
Cooper pulled a file from his briefcase and laid the documents on the table. “There’s quite a bit more to the story.”
Trent nodded. “Eastlyn mentioned how William de Haviland, the grandfather, stole someone’s mine and claimed it as his own, triggering a lawsuit that lasted twenty years.”
“That’s the tip of the iceberg,” Cooper noted. “It doesn’t tell you why it went on for that long. The claimant kept losing court cases because William’s younger brother, Deanne’s great-uncle, was accused of currying favors with the judges. Each trial and the outcome were recorded in the newspapers at the time, accusing the de Havilands of bribing judges or juries and intimidating witnesses. Now, move forward another fifty years. With the gold they allegedly stole, the de Havilands became prominent landowners in the area, known for their power, wealth, and influence throughout the state. However, it didn’t last forever. A scandal rocked the family in late 1969.”
“Huh? Roughly around the time our grandmother suddenly inherits the Triple C Ranch?” Tate wondered, trading glances with Savannah. “That’s a big coincidence.”
“It was revealed that her father, Jonathan de Haviland, had been embezzling funds from the family investment firm for years. This led to disgrace, financial ruin, and, ultimately, the loss of their entire fortune. Their estate was auctioned off in the summer of 1970 to pay off their debts and the victims of the embezzlement. Numerous other families acquired their land and assets. It was a huge humiliation.”
“Maybe her humiliation was enough to con Noble Colter out of his ranch,” Tate said to Trent.
“It’s certainly motivation for it,” Trent agreed.
“In an attempt to reclaim the prestige of the family,” Savannah included. “She saw an opportunity and took it.”
Cooper cleared his throat to continue. “Jonathan de Haviland’s embezzlement was not just an isolated incident. It was a systematic draining of funds from the family firm over the course of several years. He manipulated accounts, forged signatures, and diverted money into offshore accounts under false names. The extent of his deceit was staggering, and when it was finally uncovered, it sent shockwaves through not only the de Haviland family but also the entire community, ultimately the entire state.”
Trent raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the revelation. “Because it touched everyone in every corner of the state. So, this scandal not only led to their financial ruin but also tarnished their reputation in the eyes of society. That’s why she might’ve manipulated the old rancher. It’s why she agreed to leave Wyoming and move to California in the first place. Before the scandal, I doubt Duchess de Haviland ever considered picking up and moving anywhere with Barrett Callum.”
“Perhaps the scandal served as a catalyst to make a fresh start,” Savannah mused, her eyes studying the papers spread out for them to read.
“Or maybe it was a means to escape the shame that loomed over the de Haviland family,” Tate added, connecting the dots of their discussion.
Cooper nodded in agreement. “The move allowed her to distance herself from the disgrace plaguing their family name in Wyoming. But I don’t think she could relinquish the Triple C once she became its owner. I found proof online that once Josiah realized his uncle had died and he wasn’t the beneficiary, he went to court to fight for the land. That initial court filing was in 1971. Deanne dragged it out, using postponement after postponement. She kept up a steady stream of filings because she lived out of state until Josiah pressed for a ruling in 1974. He didn’t like the outcome. The fight for this property would continue for another twenty years until his lawyer suggested he buy it outright for three million.”
“Which Deanne turned down,” Savannah stressed.
“But she let Barrett think that she’d taken the offer.”
“How?” Trent asked. “How did she trick him into that? Did she produce three million dollars out of thin air?”
“She kind of did,” Cooper admitted. “It didn’t take much to see that your grandmother is a savvy businesswoman. When I dug a little deeper, I found out that she transferred three million dollars into their joint account for a brief period—three weeks to be exact—and then put it back into the offshore account she maintained after her father passed away. It’s still an active account to this day with almost thirty million in it.”
Trent shook his head. “The Rio Verde Ranch doesn’t have nearly that amount of money in its business accounts. We aren’t that flush with cash. If you don’t believe me, check with the First Bank of Pelican Pointe. That’s where Barrett has had his money since he arrived in town.”
“You might want to check your balances again,” Cooper suggested. “Your grandmother may have drained their joint account since the funeral, adding to a larger offshore balance.”
Trent exchanged looks with Tate. “Can you believe this?”
“I suspected she was ruthless, but this—” Tate trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.
“This is the ultimate betrayal,” Trent said. “How profitable is the Triple C?”
“Very,” Cooper confirmed. “During the past fifty years, she’s turned the ranch into the main beef supplier for a large fast-food conglomerate. After all, it’s a cattle ranch. And a very lucrative one at that. She has a standard contract with these people and doesn’t have to worry about price fluctuations. She’s locked into a profitable long-term contract.”
“Providing beef to a restaurant. Unbelievable,” Trent muttered.
“But what does all this mean for our scheduled afternoon covert operation?” Birk wanted to know. “Colter Bohannon is still a wanted man. He’s suspected of murdering two people. We still need to lure him into the trap.”
“And we will,” Trent stated. “But let’s replay everything that’s happened since the shooting that Friday night. Barrett and Duchess were alone at Turtle Ridge when the shooting took place. She was present in the house with Slade the night he died. Remember, Dolly was incapacitated and never saw her attacker.”
Tate nodded. “As soon as I heard the explosion, I ran downstairs and out of the house to try and help. I bumped into Trent heading for the water truck.”
“That’s right,” Trent stated. “Do we know for certain that it’s Colter Bohannon who killed Granddad and Slade? We don’t have the murder weapon. We have a lot of stuff blowing up and no visual of anybody.”
“Don’t forget the near miss aimed at you,” Savannah said, placing a hand on Trent’s shoulder. “You could’ve been killed. And Brock spent the night in the hospital after a bullet went wild.”
“Where are you going with this?” Beckett asked. “Surely, you don’t believe your grandmother would kill your grandfather, do you?”
“You tell me. She's been playing the long game all along,” Trent muttered, his voice tinged with anger and suspicion. “And we’ve been falling right into her trap. We’ve made assumptions this entire time, believing that we’re looking for a lone gunman with a grudge. What if it’s one cunning woman with a diabolical plan to get away with murdering her husband?”
“But I saw this guy,” Brock Childers added. “At least somebody dressed all in black.”
“That’s a very vague description that we’ve had to work with this whole time,” Beckett said, leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “Come to think of it, all that time up on the roof, did we ever get a clear shot of our suspect?”
Birk shook his head. “No. For a time or two, we began to think he might be a ghost.”
Hawk added his two cents. “Look, I’ve been on a lot of security details. So have Lincoln and Drum. The three of us could never understand how this guy kept evading us this time. There were never any tracks to follow for long. They always ended up at a creek bed or rocks. We began to suspect that whoever was doing this had inside knowledge.”
“What are we saying?” Brock asked. “Are you thinking Duchess had something to do with all this?”
“It sounds like that’s where you’re all headed. But how do you explain the notebook with Colter Bohannon’s fingerprints?” Savannah questioned. “That has to mean he is still the prime suspect.”
“There is that,” Trent noted. But when he saw Brock squirming in his seat, he asked, “What’s on your mind, Brock? Do you know something you aren’t telling us?”
“Not really. It’s probably nothing.”
Tate reached across the table to put her hand on Brock’s. “We need to know everything. If you saw something, now’s the time to level with us. Spit it out. Don’t hold back.”
“Well, it’s not that. It’s just that Trent paired Toby with Duchess. Right? During their patrols, Toby mentioned that Duchess kept insisting they split up. She’d disappear for an hour or two at a time, then circle back to where he was. He was complaining about it, but, you know, it was the boss so—”
“He never mentioned that to me,” Trent stated. “Why would she want to split up? We really need to find that murder weapon that was used to kill Barrett. Slade died of a shove down the stairs that broke his neck.”
“She could’ve snuck up on him. She could’ve done that,” Tate theorized. “But how did she shoot Granddad?”
Birk shifted in his chair. “I’ve got a better question. How did she manage the black truck showing up when it did? Someone—not her—drove it off the ranch and ditched it on the other side of town.”
“Simple. She had help,” Tate insisted. “She’s the owner of a successful cattle ranch in Green River. From what we now know, a multi-millionaire. My guess is that she has more assets than what’s in the offshore bank account. She has other money available, so her paying someone to help her out couldn’t be traced.”
“I’m willing to keep an open mind,” Trent informed the group. “After everything I’ve heard today, it’s possible she hired someone.”
“I’m texting Eastlyn now,” Cooper offered. “She should know if forensics found anything of value in the black truck to ID the driver.”
They waited five minutes before Eastlyn responded, and Cooper relayed that information. “The truck was wiped clean.”
“Wait a minute,” Birk stated. “Are we really suggesting your grandmother—that little old lady who offered us a place to stay—deliberately carried out a false flag OP on all of us?”
Before Trent or Tate could answer, Cooper let out an audible gasp. “Holy crap. Eastlyn just texted me. Your killer cannot possibly be Colter Bohannon.”
“Why is that?” Beckett asked.
“Because he died three weeks ago back in Stillwater. The coroner ruled his death was an apparent suicide.”
“Are the authorities sure it’s him?”
“Yeah. He was positively ID’d by fingerprints, dental records, and family members. He got into his truck, turned on the engine in the garage, and died by carbon monoxide poisoning.”
Beckett traded glances with his brother. “Then who the hell are we trying to lure into this trap?”