Page 78 of A Mile of Ocean

“It’s unfortunate, Chester, but what I need from you now is to die. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask you to do,” Duchess said as she raised the Winchester and pulled the trigger. But nothing happened. She cocked it and tried again. Still nothing. She tossed it to the ground and took out the handgun.

“Drop the gun, Mrs. Callum,” Beckett shouted as he grabbed the reins of her horse, knocking his weapon out of her hand. The gun went flying onto the grass.

Birk approached Chester from behind, holding his 9mm. “Throw down the rifle. Now!” Birk said to Chester. “You’re toast. It’s over. You’re both going to jail for a long time for murdering Barrett and Slade.”

“What? Not me. I didn’t kill anybody,” Chester protested. “I was in Wyoming when she killed her old man. I can prove it. I wasn’t in California then. I didn’t arrive until the next day. She called me that night to help her out. Check my phone. My job was to make a few pipe bombs and set off a few explosions for distractions. That’s it. That’s all I did.”

“Shut up, you stupid fool,” Duchess shouted. “They still think it’s Bohannon behind all this. They have no evidence to prove otherwise.”

Trent and Tate appeared out of their hiding place, with Tate still filming. “Did you notice this guy’s fancy western boots? Maybe he does a lot of line dancing when he’s not blowing stuff up.”

“What are you doing?” Duchess shouted in Tate’s direction. “Stop that! Put your phone down.”

“Bohannon’s dead,” Trent informed her. “He’s been dead for three weeks. But you already knew that. We know you had him killed, and you’re going down for it.”

Her eyes darted around, trying to formulate an escape plan, right before she kicked Beckett in the head with her boot, knocking him to the ground. She kicked Zorro in the flank to get him moving.

But Zorro pinned his ears back, clamped his tail down, and reared up as high as he could, hooves kicking in the air like angry fists. As if possessed, Barrett’s spirited horse caught Duchess by surprise as she tumbled backward out of the saddle, head over heels, landing on her neck with a loud crack. She twitched for a moment and then went still.

Trent rushed over to calm Zorro while Beckett bent down and used his index and middle fingers to feel for a pulse at her neck.

He shook his head. “Nothing. She’s dead. Must’ve broken her neck in the fall.”

Chester’s eyes were huge as he kept protesting his innocence. “I don’t understand!” he cried. “I didn’t do anything! You have to believe me! I’m Chester de Haviland, her cousin. She asked me if I knew anyone who would kill Barrett and that guy in Stillwater. I told her I didn’t. I swear it. She must’ve found someone on her own.”

Birk stepped in as he took possession of the rifle. “It’s okay, Chester. It’s over now. But you do realize you were caught holding the murder weapon?”

In response, Chester put his hands in the air. “I’ll cooperate. I’ll tell you everything. She told me to get rid of it. I hid it on that old farm next door that the city owns.”

“You mean Cleef Atkins’ old place?” Trent asked, still trying to calm down an agitated Zorro by walking the horse in a circle. “I never would’ve thought to look there. It’s just over the southern edge of the property. You can see it from the ridge line.”

Brent came striding up with Theo and Trish. He pointed at Chester. “Cuff this guy, will you? Get him out of here.”

As Theo and Trish led Chester away, Brent glanced at Birk, Beckett, Lucien, and Brogan. “I see all the familiar faces. Why do you guys always show up at my crime scenes?”

Birk started to say something, but Beckett elbowed him in the ribs.

“Just lucky, I guess,” Lucien stated with a grin.

“We’re being neighborly,” Brogan said with a shrug. “That’s what neighbors do. We help each other out during rough patches.”

“Yes, well, you guys did good. You kept your cool and played it smart. Although your main suspect is dead,” Brent pointed out, glancing down at Duchess.

“We have the cousin who wants to tell his side of the story,” Brogan added. “That’s something different.”

Brent nodded. “I suppose it is. He’ll soon learn the hard way that accessory to murder—in this case,accessory after the fact, harboring or concealing—isn’t worth risking three years of his life in prison.”

Tate nodded, still shaken from the dramatic turn of events. “At least we know now that Duchess murdered Granddad. We had no idea it would turn out this way.”

“No one could’ve predicted this. But we’ll know who to call if we ever need sharpshooters again—which I hope we don’t,”Trent added,shaking hands with his neighbors who came to their rescue. “Thanks, guys. If any of you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

“No problem,” Birk stated. “We were happy to help. Sorry it turned out to be your grandmother.”

“You think you know someone, right?” Brent prompted. “Anyway, the medical examiner should be here shortly. In the meantime, I’ll need that video sent to me as soon as possible. We don’t want to jeopardize the case against Chester de Haviland by leaking it on social media.”

“I would never do that,” Savannah said, running up to Brent, still recording everything, long after Tate had stopped. “I got it all as a backup just in case. I’ll upload it to Eastlyn. She gave me her email address.”

“I see that. Thanks,” Brent said. “You probably have enough footage to convict Duchess twice over. Did you see she fell off that horse?”

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