Page 74 of Canyon Killer
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 andhip 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.”
“Who was Susan?” Bethany asked, remembering the third woman in the photograph.
“A woman I was dating at the time.”
“And Katherine was Gerald’s wife, and Abby was Craig’s girlfriend,” Bethany said.
