Page 38 of Haystacks and Hoaxes

“Unfortunately not. Carla meant to tell her when she got older, but it never seemed like the right time.”

Was there ever a right time for stuff like that?Man!Decker forced his thoughts back to the case. “What can you tell me about the trust, Dad?”

“Not much. It isn’t something her mother has ever said much about. All I know is the oil shares will pass to Mila on her twenty-fifth birthday or the day she marries, whichever is sooner. Kind of old-school, but that’s how the trust was written.”

Say it isn’t so!Decker’s thoughts flashed to Troy Bentley. Had that punk known about the oil shares Mila would soon inherit? “How long have you known about this?”

“Since the day I married her mother.”

“I thought you said they were poor.” Decker grappled with confusion. A part of him had always wondered if his stepmom had married his dad for his money.

“It’s complicated, son. I’m not sure I completely understand it myself.”

“Try me,” Decker urged.

“Over the years, the investment grew into a small fortune, but Carla has never touched a penny of it. She’s been socking away the royalties in some global mutual fund, supposedly for a rainy day.” He let out a gusty breath. “Between me, you, and the doorpost, I think she’s afraid of being left alone in the world again. It’s her safety net should that ever happen. Smart, if you ask me. Investing the royalties while they’re hers and preparing for the day that will no longer be the case.”

If you say so.Decker’s ears were hearing a criminal motive. He mentally added his stepmother to his list ofsuspects. “And now someone is trying to eliminate Mila from the picture,” he said slowly. “Right before her birthday.”

His father cleared his throat. “If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting…?”

“I didn’t suggest anything.” His father’s reaction was telling, though, to immediately assume Decker was thinking exactly what he was thinking.

“Listen, son. I know you and I have had our differences, but Carla would never do anything to harm Mila. I’d bet my life on it!”

“Then prove it,” he urged in a low voice.

“How?” His father sounded harried.

“Let the police search your home.”

“Without a warrant?”

“They’ll get one if they have to, but it’ll look better if you submit to a voluntary search.”

“Give me one good reason why!”

“That way, they can see for themselves that there’s nothing in your home that connects my stepmother to the attempts on Mila’s life.”

“I can’t believe you just said that, son.”

“People have killed for a lot less than shares of oil stock, Dad.”

“You know what? Fine!” Chet Kingston exploded. “Do it. My wife has nothing to hide. If searching every inch of our home is the only way to prove it, then so be it.”

“You want the police to do it now or wait until you’re back in the country?”

“Just get it over with. You know where I keep the spare key.” His father’s voice grew bitter. “Call me when it’s over.” He paused a beat. “And I’ll be expecting a full apology. You’re wrong about Carla.”

“I want to be wrong, Dad.” Right now, there was nothing Decker wanted more.

Four days before Christmas

“The police found what?”Mila’s lips parted in disbelief as she gaped at Decker. She hadn’t expected him to return to the medical center before lunch time, since he’d left so late the night before, much less to tell her that the police had just finished searching their parents’ home.

“Bomb-making materials hidden in a shoebox in our mother’s closet.” Her stepbrother looked grim. “Plus a bottle of strychnine hidden in one of her purses. The sheriff had no choice but to issue a warrant for her arrest. She’ll be taken into custody the moment she steps foot back into the country.”

Mila’s insides trembled. “There has to be more to the story.”

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