Chapter 32

Cookie’s face blanched and she shook her head. “No, no, no! Why are you asking me about Sam? I only order supplies from him. I would never otherwise associate with someone like him.”

“Multiple denials, answering a question with a question, and claiming to be morally unable to do something.” My stomach felt rock hard. “Three signs of deception.”

“I’m not going to stand here and be accused of something I had no knowledge of. He attacked me!” Her hands formed fists. “Did you forget he hit me on the head and stabbed me?”

“No, I didn’t forget. Earlier tonight the setting sun glinted on the tip of the knife extending from a crack in a log. You jammed the knife tightly into that crack, then backed into it. That’s why you received more of a cut than a stab. The rock you used to hit yourself on the head was right where you dropped it.”

“Nonsense. Sam did it. You heard him.” Cookie’s face had gone from pale to flushed. “You all heard him.”

“We did hear Sam confess,” Grace said to me.

“He confessed to what he called ‘cleanup.’ And he said he was off on his timing, which was an accident.” I wiped my sleeve across my face, trying to get the smoky stench out of my nose. “What needed to be timed? The slide at Devil’s Keyhole. I’d bet Sam’s military experience had to do with explosives.”

No one spoke.

“But Sam also said ‘we’—plural. He had help. It had to be from someone who worked here, and so they had to die. The plan must have been to seal the exit route by blowing it up, but the timing was off and the route was closed before we could get out.

“Cookie called Sam on the radio just before she destroyed it. He knew he had to catch the helicopter and that things were coming to a head. She outlined the plan and kept in touch with him with a walkie-talkie.”

“Ridiculous!” Cookie almost yelled. “He killed the three men here on the ranch to hide his presence, then went after you and tried to kill you—”

“You’re making more and more mistakes, Cookie.” I didn’t take my gaze off her. “How could you have known someone tried to kill me? How could you have even known where I’d be?” I let her mistake sink in. “Because you were the one to suggest the route I would take, and you gave me a GPS with a low battery. You couldn’t know how long the battery would last, but you knew the dogs would head straight for Shadow Woman’s house, and I’d go after them. Besides, Sam didn’t follow me. He left for the mine as soon as he got here. You sent him ahead.”

“You’re crazy.” Cookie looked at the others. “She’s crazy.”

“You should have told Sam not to light a fire in Mae’s cookstove. Yet another mistake. It was still warm. You told Sam to put me in the cave because you knew darkness was a PTSD trigger for me—”

“How could I have known that? I don’t know you that well.”

“You knew I had PTSD. You saw my reaction to the darkness my first night here. You offered a lantern to Wyatt and Bram to get me to the cabin. You were hoping I’d get lost in the cave, go into a fugue state, or die in the geyser.” My voice shook. Putting her plans for my death into words sent chills down my back. “But Sam had no idea what I was talking about when I accused him of trying to kill me. He didn’t know about the geyser. You did. Mae couldn’t get her message through to Roy, but you were there. You understood. You moved the miners, set that fire, then murdered Mae.”

“No!”

“He believed the mine tapped out because you told him. You. His beloved sister. His only family.”

“That’s horrible.” Grace looked at Cookie now as if she were the devil incarnate. Which she was.

“You told Sam to remove my prosthesis and bring it here. You probably said that would slow me down. You had him put the prosthesis into the building, which you’d then burn. You hoped no one would question what happened to the rest of my body.”

Roy had stepped away from Cookie and was staring at her. Now he looked at me. “That can’t be right, Darby. Sam was here all last night and today. You were in the dining room when Sam shot in the window! And this morning when you rode out, Sam was shooting at you. He couldn’t have been two places at once.”

“He didn’t have to be,” I said. “Cookie was doing the shooting. I’d bet she placed the missing stash of guns next to the kitchen. She conveniently went to the kitchen for water last night. She had plenty of time to move the chair holding the door shut, shoot out the nearby window, hide the gun, replace the chair, and tuck herself under a table where I found her. Remember we were all scrambling for cover.”

“What about this morning?” Grace asked.

“Once again Cookie offered to create a diversion, again from the kitchen door.”

Cookie almost sputtered. “You’re accusing me of killing three men, stabbing Angie—”

“Another mistake, Cookie.” I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans. “We haven’t found the third ranch hand. So he’s dead too?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“You wanted Sam to buy Mule Shoe, so you started by getting the insurance dropped with the horseback incident and the hikers’ deaths. That dropped the price and changed the cash flow. Then came the ‘accidents,’ like a trap set so someone would fall through the loft onto a pitchfork. Mixing up reservations. Attracting bears. Planting dead raccoons and contaminated water. You destroyed the art room. Sam wasn’t around for any of it, and none of that would have been necessary if the mine were tapped out.”

Cookie pointed at me. “You’re delusional. Suffering from PTSD. You had to get rehabilitated at Clan Firinn, like me. I’ll be sending Scott Thomas my report. You need to be treated—”

“You were never at Clan Firinn. That was the best lie you could have told, because you knew I’d trust you.” I wanted to spit as Roy had done. “You expect an enemy to lie to you, but not a friend. That’s what took me so long to suspect you.” My voice cracked and I swallowed, then continued. “You knew all about Clan Firinn because you read Roy’s mail. And you found my note from Scott hidden in the art room. That was your biggest mistake, Cookie.”

Cookie didn’t answer.

“Scott wrote in my letter that he was sending me a gift that was ‘as per our tradition.’ That meant everyone got the same thing from the beginning. The gift was three rocks, representing the three stumbling stones I’d need to overcome, my PTSD triggers. But you had no idea what I was talking about when I showed you the rocks. You didn’t know what the gift was. I bet you thought I was asking about another kind of rock—the kind with emeralds in it.”

Cookie’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“I have just one question for you, Cookie. Why did you try to kill Angie? Unlike the ranch hands, she didn’t see Sam get off the helicopter.”

“I caught her snooping in my room. She knew too much. And so do you.”

I lifted Sam’s pistol and pointed it at her.

She laughed, high-pitched and shrill. “Your gun is empty. I unloaded it before giving it to Sam.”

I kept my gun aimed at her.

Cookie laughed again, even more maniacally, and raised the Glock. “You’re a fool, Darby.”

I pulled the trigger.