Temple: A New Journey Begins
Please see the disclaimer on the Synopsis page.
The ride to the Cavanaugh home was done in silence. Kermit tried to gleam information out of Vance, but all he could get out of him was his father's name, and not much else. That was enough to confirm that there was a man by that name that held several bank accounts, including one in Switzerland. Kermit had been exploring the bank accounts of Jameson and Carson when he ran across the Cavanaugh name.
As Kermit followed Vance's directions, he was amazed to learn that the Cavanaugh place was the only one that was not inside the city limits of the town. It was as if Clarence Cavanaugh was proud of the money that he had, while the other two men did their best to hide the fact that they were very rich men, rich enough to rival such men as Ronald Trump. "I thought you said you lived in Braniff?"
"I rent a house in town. My father and I are not on speaking terms. We haven't seen eye to eye when it comes to money, especially when it came to the money my grandfather left us."
"I checked into your grandfather's background. He spent some time in a psychiatric hospital for about six months."
"I learned from Sam Lowery that my grandfather tried to get rid of Caine, that is KC's grandfather, by threatening Rachel Lowery's life. He didn't succeed. She never pressed charges. I guess she wanted to help him, but my father said he was never really the same. He appeared to be cured, but he would go on long drives and would come back covered in dirt. Sometimes he would bring back a large bag then take the bag into town. That was right about the time we suddenly came into a lot of wealth."
"I'm not sure, maybe eight or nine years. He died when I was around twelve years old."
Kermit fell silent, digesting the information that Vance had just told him. It just seemed too much of a coincidence that on the day Vance Cavanaugh died, that was the last day any deposits had been made to his Swiss bank account, now owned by Clarence Cavanaugh.
"How far is it to the temple from here?"
"It's about two miles," Vance answered. "Why, is that significant?"
"Well, if your grandfather was involved with the mining operation, it wouldn't be that far a drive."
Kermit observed that Vance had grown silent.
"This is going to be tough. I'm really sorry for having to put you through this."
"Don't be. The money my family earned was under false pretences. I don't want anything to do with it."
Kermit pulled into the long driveway and parked the outlandish green antique in the shade of a large oak tree. Both men emerged and were heading toward the house when shots rang out. Kermit immediately pulled out his old desert eagle and raced toward the back of the house.
"Wait Kermit, it's not what you think," Vance raced after the older detective.
"Stay back Vance," Kermit commanded as he headed toward the back yard and the sound of the shots. "When I hear shots fired I must assume the worst."
"It's not what you think," Vance pleaded his case as he closed in on Kermit.
Another shot rang out and the sound of something shattering could clearly be heard.
"I said wait," Vance angrily stepped in front of Kermit just as he was about to enter the back yard. "You don't know the situation. My father practices his shooting when there's no hunting, but if you come up on him unannounced you might be the one getting shot."
"What?" Kermit glared at Vance through his trade mark glasses.
"You sneak up on him and you're the one who will be dead, especially if you have a gun drawn. As far as he's concerned, you'll be the intruder here. You want to see him, you wait until he's done, in the house."
"What aren't you saying?"
"I'll explain later. Let's just go inside until he's finished. Then we can talk."
Kermit conceded to Vance Cavanaugh's wishes. Something didn't seem right about this. Kermit could not help but notice the deep sudden fear on the face of the young man.
"Is your father capable of murder?" Kermit asked.
"No."
"Why this sudden fear?"
"It's not for me, it's for you," Vance said quietly.
"You've talked a lot about your grandfather and your father. What about your mother?"
A chill ran down Kermit's back as he saw the pained look in the young man's eyes. It was an all too familiar sight. They were the eyes of a haunted child that had seen death.
"I was seven years old when it happened. Dad was in the back yard shooting at empty beer bottles as usual. Mom went outside to tell him that dinner was ready. I guess she forgot about the rule. Never disturb Dad when he's shooting. Anyway, Mom must have made a scraping noise with her foot, because the next thing I remember was the sound of the gun going off and her body crashing through the glass of the patio door. I never went in the back yard, again. Soon after that, he started drinking heavily. I was partially raised by my aunt, my mother's sister. I don't think my father and I every really got along after that day. I think I remind him too much of her. Let's get this over with."
The sound of shooting continued as the two men walked back toward the front of the house to wait.
Continues with Part 49
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2004.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
Synopsis / Previous Part /
Next Part
Back to Temple Tales / Contact
Alisa