Every Deadly Suspicion

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

D RIVING TO THE B UCKLEY HOME always made Hanna think of Hearst Castle. The home was not a castle, but it was at the highest point in Dry Oaks, and the road that took you there wound up an incline like a grand drive. The Buckleys were, in a way, Dry Oaks royalty. Their home occupied a historical spot where a high-producing gold mine once stood, and a marker at the beginning of the drive explained the significance.

Beecher’s Mine, like most mines during the California gold rush, had burned brightly for a short time, enough to build a thriving town in the area, and then thinned out. About two hundred acres of Buckley land was originally a claim mined by Dale Beecher.

When Beecher’s Mine went bust, Everett Buckley’s great-grandfather purchased the mine and surrounding acres for pennies on the dollar. The family became the backbone of Dry Oaks. Because they stayed, invested in real estate, and helped preserve local mining history, the town did not dry up like other mining towns did. Why Dry Oaks hadn’t been named Buckley, she didn’t know.

Hanna turned right onto the drive and headed toward the main residence. While she loved her job, she hated death notifications. She’d had to do them too many times in her career to suit her.

She approached the gate, which was a mile and a half before the residence, and was surprised to find it crowded with workmen. Then she remembered that Scott was into the latest technology. Everything at the entry was to be upgraded, with underground electrical wire and digital cable. The Buckley compound would likely be the most technologically advanced property in the county. Well, at least in Dry Oaks.

Cameras and smart technology were the order of the day here. Along with heavy-duty gates and fencing. One of the workmen pointed to the right. “You can use the access road there. It’s rough and winding, but you have a four-wheel.”

Hanna nodded. They’d removed a portion of the fencing off to the side of the entry gate. She turned right and clicked on her four-wheel. She doubted she could outrun the telephone and fully expected that by the time she got to the house, Everett would already know about his son’s death.

The old rutted road wound up the hill, with tall pine trees standing sentry on either side. It was no problem for her vehicle. The driveway eventually cut to the left, and as Hanna reached the top of the hill, the house came into view on her right.

The main residence was a sprawling ranch-style log home with a wraparound porch boasting a view of the valley below. Built over the site of the main mine, it had a beautiful rustic, historic look to it, but the residence was equipped with alarms for fire and earthquake safety, and even had a fully equipped panic room in case of an emergency.

Across the parking area from the front of the house was a large barn and stable area including an exercise ring. Everett and several of his nephews raised champion quarter horses.

Hanna spied Everett at the rail of the exercise ring, watching his great-grandson Braden taking a riding lesson. Standing next to Everett was Grover, his right-hand man, and Timmons, his ranch foreman. From their smiles and joviality, Hanna guessed no one had answered a phone call about Scott’s accident. Scott’s mother had passed just after Hanna graduated from high school, and Everett never remarried. Hanna hated to be the bearer of more bad news to the man.

Where was Chase? Scott’s younger brother had been seriously injured the year Hanna was born and seemed to live in the background. Though Everett and Scott always took the lead and the limelight, she’d heard through the grapevine that the horse ranch was Chase’s responsibility.

She parked the car, got out, and walked toward Everett. Timmons saw her first and tapped Everett on the shoulder.

Everett turned as she approached, his smile fading, eyebrows arched in surprise. “Chief. What on earth brings you up here today?”

Grover also turned to watch her approach. The only thing that continued was the riding lesson.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news.”

Everett stiffened and let go of the railing.

Hanna didn’t believe he’d appreciate if she beat around the bush. “I’m sorry, Everett, there is no easy way to say this. It’s Scott. His plane crashed just now into the field on Baseline. He didn’t make it.”

“What?” Everett blanched and seemed to totter.

Grover frowned and grabbed his boss’s arm to support him.

“You’re sure?” Timmons asked.

“I saw it happen. It looked as if he just flew into the ground.”

“Where is he?” Everett asked, his voice a whisper.

Hanna sucked in a breath. “They took him to Sonora. They tried to resuscitate him, but he’s gone. I’m not certain how long it will take for the NTSB to respond. As you know, they will investigate the likely cause of the crash.” She stopped, feeling as though she were rambling.

Everett nodded almost imperceptibly. He turned to Grover. “Take me there. I want to see the plane. Then I want to see Scott.”

It would not have been Hanna’s choice to send Everett to the crash scene, but she’d been a cop long enough to know that everyone handled death and grief in their own way. She stepped aside as Grover and Everett hurried to the ranch SUV.

“You sure it was an accident?” Timmons asked.

“I’m not sure. The plane dropped fast. The NTSB will have the final say. You don’t suspect foul play, do you?”

Timmons shrugged. “Scotty loved that plane, babied it. He was a great pilot. How could he crash?”

“Does he have enemies? Had he received threats?”

“He did have his share of enemies in business. But the past few months, he’s been over the moon about his engagement. Everything has been going smooth.”

“Ah, his fiancée, is she here? Do you want me to tell her?”

“Valerie’s in Corte Madera. I expect Grover will tell her.” Timmons hooked his thumbs in his belt and spit. “This just sounds strange to me. And if it was because of some error on Scotty’s part, the old man will have a hard time swallowing that.”

Hanna could understand. Everett had retired from running the business a few years ago. Scott had taken the lead with gusto. This was a tragic event on so many levels. If the NTSB found evidence of foul play, she’d go after it like any other crime.

Just when she thought the day couldn’t get any darker, it did, with the shadow of murder hanging over it.