Chapter Twenty
“How did you get up here?” Ian demanded. Though his gaze was drawn to the gun in Craig’s hand, he forced himself to look at the man’s face, though much of it was in shadow.
“My ankle has been healed for weeks,” Craig said. “I only wore the boot and carried the cane so you’d believe I was hurt worse than I really was.”
“What are you doing here?” Bethany asked.
“I’m trying to stop you from making a big mistake,” he said.
“What mistake?” Ian took a step toward the man, but Craig waved the pistol.
“Back off, or I’ll shoot,” he said.
Ian froze, acutely aware that Bethany stood between him and the gunman. He needed to find a way to get in front of her. “What mistake are you trying to prevent?” he asked again.
“Nobody even remembered Gerald and Abby until you came along,” Craig said.
“If anyone did think of them, they believed they moved away. You had to go uncovering their bodies and letting everyone know they were murdered. And you won’t let people forget, with your photographs and memorial plaques.
As long as people remember, they’re going to keep looking for the person who killed them. ”
Had Craig killed his uncle? But asking that might anger him enough to pull the trigger. Instead, Ian asked, “Were you the one who shot at me? Did you set the fire?”
“I had to silence you.”
“We didn’t mean to upset you,” Bethany said.
Craig turned his head toward her, though the hand that held the gun remained steady. “That picture was the last straw,” he said. “With me and Abby.”
“Abby was with you?” she asked.
“She was mine before Gerald ever knew her. Katherine was mine first, too. Then Gerald decided he wanted them and took them from me. I was upset about Katherine at first. Who wouldn’t be?
But then I saw he had done me a favor, taking Katherine off my hands.
I met Abby, and I knew what love truly was. ”
“I’m sorry that happened,” Bethany said. She sounded so calm. Had her search and rescue training taught her to be so calm in a crisis, or did that come naturally?
“Abby was with me that day we rode horses,” Craig continued.
“You’re right. It was here in this canyon.
Gerald had never even seen her before that day.
But as soon as he saw her, he decided he had to have her.
He didn’t stop until he had stolen her from me.
He even tried to kill Katherine so she would be out of the picture. ”
“How did he try to kill Katherine?” Bethany asked.
If only she could keep Craig talking, maybe Ian could get to his phone. He slid one hand toward his pocket.
“Gerald was driving the car the day Katy was hurt,” Craig said.
“He ran over her and drove off. When she tried to tell people what had really happened, he told everyone she was a drunk, that she had been cheating on him with another man. She didn’t deserve that.
I went to see her in the hospital—because I was a true friend, even though I wasn’t in love with her anymore.
She told me the whole story. When Gerald divorced her and married Abby, it broke her heart.
She really did start drinking then. He ruined her life. ”
“Who set fire to Gerald and Abby’s house?” Bethany asked.
“That was me. I didn’t want to hurt them, just frighten them.” He chuckled, a sound more chilling than any of his previous anger. “He thought Walt set that fire. Gerald even accused him of it.”
“Why would Gerald accuse Walt?”
“Because Walt was Katherine’s friend, too.
Walt believed her story about the accident.
Told Gerald if he didn’t set aside money to support Katherine, he would tell everyone what he had done.
The two of them argued, but in the end, Gerald gave in.
He wanted everyone—especially Abby—to think he was a good person.
Abby had no idea.” He jerked his head back toward Ian.
“Stop fidgeting. Don’t think I don’t see you over there. ”
“What did you do, Craig?” Bethany asked. “To Gerald?”
“All I wanted was Abby to leave him and come back to me. I asked them to meet me here, in the canyon, where Gerald and Abby first met. I told them I had a present for them. They had no reason to suspect me. I was careful to not let Gerald see how much I hated him,” he said.
“All I wanted was to get him out of the picture. He didn’t deserve to live—after the way he had treated Katherine.
The way he treated me. We were like brothers growing up, yet he had betrayed me twice.
I knew if I could make Abby see what he was really like, she would love me again. ”
He fell silent, head bowed. Ian tensed. They had to keep him talking. Talking and not shooting.
“They agreed to meet you?” Ian asked.
“Yes. I led them up to the caves. They had never been in there before. I told them it was incredibly beautiful, with a lot of crystals and stuff. I knew they would want to see it,” he said.
“But when we got in there, I confronted Gerald about stealing Abby from me. I told her what he had done to Katherine, what he had done to me. Gerald denied everything, then he tried to shoot me. I wrestled with him, and the gun went off. Then I heard a scream and realized the bullet had hit Abby. I tried to go to her, but Gerald pulled me away.”
“Oh.” One soft syllable from Bethany, so full of sympathy and horror.
“He cradled her in his arms and told her everything I said was lies,” Craig said. “He told her I had never really loved her. I couldn’t stand it, knowing she would go to her grave believing the lies he was telling her. I picked up the pistol and shot him. Then I left them.
“I told everyone I knew that I had seen them leaving town. A few days later I came back and set off dynamite to trigger a rock slide. I worked with explosives in the mines and knew just where to set the charges,” he said.
“I figured if anyone suspected it had been done on purpose, they would blame Walt because he lived next to the canyon, and I stole the dynamite he had left over from blasting out a foundation for a new house. But no one even suspected.
“And then you two came along and I was reading about the murders in the papers. Then you found out I lived here and brought me to the sheriff’s attention. I tried everything I could think of to get you to go away. Let the dead stay buried.”
“Did you put the wedding ring in the cave after we found their remains?” Bethany asked.
Craig nodded. “I bought that ring for Abby. I left it as a kind of memorial for her.”
He was looking down, the barrel of the gun aimed down as well. Ian pulled his phone from his pocket. All he had to hit was one number—
Pain burned through his shoulder even as the crack of the shot reverberated around the canyon.
Bethany screamed, and Ian staggered back, then dropped to his knees, sick and dizzy.
He gripped his injured shoulder, blood seeping through his hands then watched, helpless, as Bethany grappled with Craig.
He braced himself for the sound of another gunshot, but instead Craig shoved Bethany off the catwalk. She fell, her scream cut off like a door had slammed.
* * *
Bethany’s shoulder and hip crashed into the jagged rock below the catwalk, and she clutched in the darkness for any kind of purchase.
Then she was jerked up short, like a yo-yo on the end of a string.
She clung to the rock, one foot on a narrow outcropping, the other dangling free.
The safety cable had done its job and arrested her fall, but how long could she cling here?
She looked up and, through the mesh of the catwalk, saw Craig kneeling on the edge, looking down.
At the other end of the platform, Ian lay still.
She choked back a sob and sent up a silent prayer that Ian was still alive.
She couldn’t give into that fear, and she was afraid to make a sound.
If Craig realized she was still here and not dashed on the rocks below, he might unclip the safety cable.
The catwalk began to shake, and footsteps thundered across it. A figure launched itself at Craig. “No!” a man shouted. At first Bethany thought it was the security guard, then the wrestling pair rolled into the light and she recognized Walt Spies.
The two men shouted obscenities at each other, then something bounced on the catwalk and dropped over the edge. The pistol. Walt was on his back now, Craig on top of him. Bethany stared up at the tableau, her arms and legs straining to maintain their precarious hold on the rock.
Ian rose to his knees, staggering to his feet. He moved toward the two combatants, then kicked Craig in the head. Craig howled and raised up, and Walt pushed him off. “You’re not going to kill me!” he shouted and punched Craig in the face.
Craig crumpled and lay curled on the catwalk. Walt pulled himself upright. “Make a move, and I’ll shove you right over the side,” he said. Then he turned to Ian. “The sheriff is on the way.”
“Ian!” Bethany shouted.
He looked down between his feet. “Bethany?”
“I’m on the rock, right under the catwalk. The safety line caught me. But I don’t think I can get up.”
“Hang on,” Ian said. “Help is coming.”
“What are you doing here, Walt?” she called.
“I came back to check on you two,” he said.
“I saw the photo you posted, of the six of us riding horses. I’d forgotten about that day, but seeing it reminded me of all the bad blood between Craig and his uncle Gerald—things I hadn’t thought about in decades.
It worried me that maybe he was behind all the trouble you’ve been having.
Call it instinct, I guess. I wanted to come back and tell you to keep an eye on him, even though you didn’t appreciate my warning before. ”
“You told us you didn’t know Gerald,” Ian said.
“I didn’t. Not really. I knew Craig. He knew our family rented out horses for rides in the canyons around here. He arranged that outing. That was probably the first time I ever met Gerald.”