Lana instinctively stepped in front of Jack and put the baseball glove behind her back. Then she thought better of it. They needed to leave the barn. To get Paul, and Detective Ramirez. She needed to pretend there was nothing worth hiding in here.
She held up the glove, her hand covering the names on the inner edge.
“Jack and I were just playing around.” Lana put on a face of nonchalance and tossed the glove into an unlit stall. “It was nothing. Let’s go.”
Lana advanced toward the door. But no one else moved. Martin blocked the entrance to the barn, Diana catching up to him on his left side. Beth was a few paces behind them, wavering in the darkness beyond the open door.
“Martin, I don’t understand this little field trip—” Diana’s voice was harsh.
Lana’s eyes darted around in the dark. “I apologize, I’ve kept you waiting. We should go back to the house to discuss the future of the ranch.”
“The reason we’re all here,” Martin said.
“Of course. I just wanted to find Jack first,” Lana continued. It came out feebler than she intended.
“What else did you find?” Martin asked.
Lana looked at the man before her. His eyes were fierce. He was tall and athletic. But still, just a man. She could handle him.
“Martin, please, let’s go inside the house. Your sister has some good ideas, and with your brilliance, I think we could create something extraordinary. Can’t we—”
“We’re selling the ranch,” Martin said. His voice was loud, hard as iron. It echoed in the drafty barn, bouncing off the metal roof.
“But that’s not what your father wanted.” Jack’s voice shot past Lana, high and unbidden.
Martin took a step toward the teenager. “How do you know that?”
Beth approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Martin—”
“Beth.” He turned to look at her, grasping at her fingers and trapping them against his jacket.
Jack looked nervous. “What I mean is—”
“We found the plans,” Lana broke in. She didn’t like how Martin was looking at her girls. “For the project your father was doing with Ricardo Cruz. Verdadera Libertad.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Martin said.
Now it was Beth who spoke out in surprise. She pulled her hand away from Martin’s. “I gave you those papers,” she said. “From the architect.”
“So you looked at them? Was it before you gave them to me, or were you snooping over my shoulder?” He shook his head in disgust. “And here I was thinking you didn’t play your mother’s games. Di, these women have been meddling in our business. In Dad’s business.”
“Not meddling,” Lana said. “Finding the truth.”
Lana kept her eyes locked on Diana. If she couldn’t get them out, she had to reel them in.
“I told you about it at lunch,” Lana said. Her voice was calm and clear. “Your father and Ricardo Cruz had a project together. A vision to turn the ranch into a farm incubator for women and disadvantaged entrepreneurs. Maybe Ricardo talked about it. Your daddy and his big dream.”
“That dream is dead,” Martin said.
“Dead?” Lana fixed her gaze on Martin. “Because you killed them?”
Martin barked out a laugh. He turned to his sister, a twisted smile on his face. “Is this your negotiating strategy, Di? Get her to make wild threats so I’ll let you have the ranch?”
Lana looked squarely at Diana. “Your brother killed Ricardo. Right here at the ranch. He bludgeoned him and dumped his body in the creek. And then he killed your father.”
“I don’t believe this,” Martin scoffed.
“The sheriffs are on their way, Martin,” Lana said. “To collect the evidence.”
“Evidence?” Diana asked.
“It’s here,” Lana said, gesturing around the barn. She wasn’t sure what was there. But maybe something that could buy time. Something that could keep him away from his car.
Diana’s eyes scanned the barn, straining to take in the piles of junk in the dim light. She was questioning. Drawn in.
Martin sneered. “Di, Ricardo Cruz was killed miles from here. And I was in San Francisco day and night. This woman doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s nothing but a washed-up snoop.”
“You were in San Francisco, Martin,” Lana agreed. “But not all day. Not all night.”