The man whirled around, and Lizzie stared in wide-eyed, mouth-opened shock. “Dad?”
Robbie Weston’s face scrunched into a grimace, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he said, “Shit, Lizzie.”
It took a second for his presence to sink in, then she jerked as understanding hit her. “You’re the one who’s been doing all these things? Oh, my God, you’re the one who poisoned my goats? You’re trying to destroy my farm?”
He turned to face her fully, and the scent of alcohol drifted toward her. He scrubbed his hand over his face before throwing his arm out to the side. “Yours? This should be mine. All of this. All of this should be mine.”
Her gaze jerked around, trying to follow the wild motions of his arms as she tried to follow the path of his words. Understanding slowly dawned on her, filling her with cold reality. “The farm. You thought Papa Beau was going to leave the farm to you?”
“I was next in line. I was his son.”
“You didn’t even come to his funeral! You haven’t been around for years! What on earth made you think he was going to leave it to you?” Her words came out in a rush, her stomach clenching and her heart pounding at the audacity of the man standing in front of her. “You nearly broke his heart. You not only left him, Grandma, and this farm... you walked away from your wife.” Slapping her hand against her chest, she added, “You walked away from your daughter! What made you think he was going to leave anything to you?”
He grimaced again, his voice now wheedling. “Oh, hell, Lizzie. You know Dad was a farmer right down to his bones. I never was. I never understood working so hard for so little.”
As the reality of the man standing in front of her continued to sink in, it dawned on Lizzie that he was only talking about the farm. He was not denying having abandoned her or her mom. Swallowing past the lump of rejection that once more settled in her throat, her eyes stayed pinned on him. “If you never wanted the farm, then why are you here now? What are you after?”
He startled, his body jerking as though her question shocked him. “Girl, you’re sitting on money. Not this damn barn or these fuckin’ animals. Hell, not even that house.” He waved toward the ground with his forefinger, shouting, “This! This land is worth something. It should have come to me.”
“So you could just sell it?” Her rage rose in full force until it crackled in the air all about her.
“Yes, I would’ve sold it. Finally, I would’ve had the money that was my birthright all along.”
“Jesus, Dad, don’t you see? The money is not your birthright. It was the land. If you had appreciated it, worked it, helped Papa Beau, helped Grandma, the land would be yours right now. But only because you understood what it means to have a piece of earth that’s been handed down through the years, gifted to you but only to take care of. Not squander it.”
Robbie leaned back, his breath leaving in a long, heavy sigh. “My God, you sound just like Dad. So self-righteous. So unable to realize that not everyone wants to kill themselves digging in the dirt.”
A tear rolled down Lizzie’s cheek and she dashed it away quickly. She started to speak, then cleared her throat and barely whispered, “That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me. That I’m just like Papa Beau.”
The two of them stood inside the barn built by his grandfather, and a building she knew he had played in as a boy just as she had as a young girl. All the history of their family was spread out all around them, and yet, he was a stranger, not understanding his surroundings.
Rufus nudged her leg and whined, bringing her focus back. Glancing down at the gasoline can setting at her father’s feet, she asked, “What now? What are you going to do now, dad?”
His jaw tightened as his lips pursed. “Sign this place over to me, Lizzie. And when I get paid, I’ll give you a share.”
“Who’s your buyer? Paul Dugan? Or is it Luca Giordano? Who’s got you doing the dirty work?”
His brows lowered in confusion, and he said, “I don’t know anyone named Paul. And Luca may be a big man on the Eastern Shore, but he’s like Dad... thinks like him, only bigger. He fuckin’ gave up too easy on this place. Now, that daughter of his, she’s got a taste for moving up. She wants her place in her own father’s kingdom and doesn’t mind paying well to get there.”
Her breath left her lungs in a rush as she processed his latest claim. “It doesn’t matter who’s paying you. I’m not signing anything over to you, Dad. You walked away from us. You walked away from Weston Farms. There is not one speck of dirt underneath our feet that belongs to you.”
He took a step forward, and Rufus growled, now standing and moving in front of Lizzie.
Sneering, Robbie said, “Just like you to have a three-legged dog for protection.” He bent down and snagged the gasoline can from the ground. “Lizzie, you know I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m going to do whatever I have to do to make you sign this farm over to me. You don’t agree, I’ll start with the barn.”
She watched in horror as he tilted the can, pouring some of the gasoline onto the straw. “No!” she screamed, dropping Rufus’ leash as she dashed forward.
Rufus darted in front of her, his teeth sinking into Robbie’s leg. Screaming, Robbie dropped the gasoline can, slinging his arms out to knock the dog away but coming in contact with Lizzie’s jaw. Her head snapped back and she crumpled to the ground. The cigarette fell out of his mouth, immediately igniting the gasoline.
Pain exploded throughout her head. Barely able to push herself up, she turned around to see Rufus still battling with her dad as flames began licking through the straw. The bleating of goats hit her ears and she forced her body to her knees, gasping for breath. Coming to a stand, she staggered past the fire toward the gate to let the pregnant goats free.
“No, Lizzie,” her dad yelled as he reached to grab her arm, trying to pull her back away from the fire.
The sound of sirens filled the air, and she jerked away from her father’s grasp. “We’ve got to get them out!”
Not knowing if he was working with her or against her, suddenly, her father pushed her to the side and grabbed the gate, jerking it open. Rufus, as though knowing what needed to be done, ran inside the pen and nipped at the goat’s heels until they ran past the flaming straw, through the barn to safety.
Head dizzy, she dropped to her knees, unable to stand. Her father cried out her name again as he started to lift her but staggered back as another man forced his way forward through the flames, scooping Lizzie into his arms.
Thick, black smoke billowed all around, but when Lizzie opened her eyes against the pain in her head, Scott’s ravaged face was in her sight. Unable to see what else was going on around her, she could hear the shouts of others.
“Did the goats get out? Rufus? The barn—”
“Shhh, babe,” he shushed, rushing her out of the barn.
She began to struggle, and he carefully set her down, keeping his arms around her as they turned and watched what was happening. Rufus was right at their feet, leash trailing behind him and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Head still pounding, she cried, “We’ve got to make sure the animals are safe.”
Grabbing Scott’s hand, she staggered toward the two goats, thankful that they let her grab them by the neck. With Scott’s help, they made it to the field where the other goats were, a safe distance from the burning barn. Pushing them through the gate, she turned and looked toward the alpacas, seeing them safely tucked away in their pasture as well.
“The pigs,” she shouted over the cacophony.
“Fuck,” Scott cursed before rushing toward the back of the barn where the pigs were kept in their pen. She raced after him, grateful to find two of the deputies were ready to assist. It was not easy, but they managed to get the pigs into the same field where the goats were, knowing they would be safe there.
Several more sirens were heard in the distance, and soon fire trucks pulled past her house, straight to the barn. She stood to the side and watched as the firefighters m
anaged to keep the fire from spreading but were unable to save the barn.
She stared numbly at the scene playing out before her, feeling Scott’s presence at her back as he stood closely, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her tight, and he shook as she heard him mumble. “Jesus, baby, thank God you’re safe.”
Reaching up, she grabbed onto his forearms wrapped around her chest, wanting to hang on to his solid strength. “I’m okay, Scott. I’m okay. The animals are okay. We’re going to be fine.” Rufus barked nearby and she dropped to her knees, hugging him. “Oh, Rufus, you’re a hero!”
Scott leaned down, ruffling his dog’s fur. “Looks like you’re the man of the hour, Rufus.”
Colt and Hunter walked by, flanking a man in handcuffs. He looked up, his face dejected as he said, “I’m sorry, Lizzie. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Scott’s jerked as he growled, “Who the fuck is he?”
Moving slightly so she could turn to look up into his face, she inhaled a shaky gulp of air before blowing it out and said, “That’s my father. Robinson Weston.”
29
For the next several hours, Scott’s phone rang continuously, all of their friends wanting to know how they could help. He appreciated their concern but finally asked Lia to start a phone tree because he wanted to focus on Lizzie.
Scott would not leave Lizzie’s side, unnerved by her calm. He wanted her to go to the ER, but Zac had checked her out and other than a bruised, swollen jaw, she insisted she was unharmed. Her focus was on walking around the pastures, assuring that all of her animals were safe, and then peace settled over her, even when she made the announcement about her father.
Shaking his head, he still could not get over the shocking news and wanted to keep a close eye on her, not believing that it did not affect her more than she was letting on.
The firefighters stayed for a while, making sure there were no live embers left to flame again. The back and side wall of the barn closest to the pastures remained standing, but the rest of the structure was destroyed.
Her father had been placed in the back of a Sheriff’s vehicle and carted off to the county jail at Easton. Hunter had followed, planning on being a part of the interrogation. Colt escorted Scott and Lizzie into her kitchen, where they found Carrie with a pot of coffee ready for them.
Carrie immediately enveloped Lizzie into a hug, then served everyone coffee in travel mugs. “I know you’re going to have to go to the Sheriff’s Department to give your statement,” Carrie began, “but I’ve had the coffee at the station, and this will be much better.”
Scott smiled his appreciation as Lizzie accepted the preferred mug, offering another heartfelt hug to her friend. Once at the Sheriff’s Department, Lizzie asked Colt if Scott could remain with her, and he agreed. The two of them were ushered into a small room reminiscent of so many police stations they had seen on TV shows. Colt explained the procedure and then he allowed his detectives to conduct the interview.
Scott sat quietly by Lizzie’s side, holding her hand as she relayed the events of the day carefully, almost unemotionally. She answered each question presented to her, and Scott’s anger ratcheted up at the relaying of the events inside the barn. Even when she said that her father tried to pull her out of the burning barn, Scott found no sympathy for the man who should have done everything to protect her to begin with.
After giving her statement and answering all questions, Hunter and Colt came into the room and sat down. Staring at his friends acting in their official capacity, Scott gave Lizzie’s hand a squeeze, wondering what was coming next.
“Your father—”
“Please, call him Robbie or Mr. Weston,” Lizzie interrupted. Giving the first flash of emotion she had shown in the last couple of hours, she winced as though in pain, then amended, “Actually, don’t call him Mr. Weston. Please, just refer to him as Robbie.”
Colt and Hunter’s gazes shifted quickly to Scott before moving back to Lizzie, both men nodding.
Hunter began again. “Robbie has confessed to cutting your fence line in hopes that some of your animals would get out. He has also confessed to bringing the azalea plants into your pasture, knowing that it would be poisonous, and cutting the outside pen enclosure, planning that the goats would get to it. And, of course, he has confessed to everything that happened today. His intention was to wreak havoc for you so that you’d be more willing to sell. And he has admitted that he had been working with Careena Giardano in hopes that when you agreed to sell, it would be to Giardano Farms.”
Scott kept his gaze on Lizzie, trying to gauge her reaction. She winced again slightly, then shook her head.
“I don’t know Careena. I only met Luca Giardano when he came by after Papa Beau’s funeral to say that he would be interested in buying my land.”
Hunter continued, “Of course, we’re still investigating, but according to your… um… Robbie, he never met Luca Giardano.”
She sucked in her lips but said nothing, simply nodding her head slightly, her hand still tucked into Scott’s.
As they were escorted out of the room, Scott asked, “What happens now, Colt?”
“Hunter will be going with a few deputies to the Giardano Farms to bring in Careena for questioning. Robbie reported that she used phone calls, text messages, and emails as well as a few meetings in person. We’re in the process of verifying that, but from what we can tell, she’ll have little defense.”
The two men looked at Lizzie standing at the end of the hall with Carrie, who had followed them to the station. Colt said, “She’s strong, but she’s not showing a lot of emotion right now.”
Nodding, Scott agreed. “I know, and that’s got me worried. You got any advice for victims?”
Pulling a card from his pocket, he handed it over. “Here’s the number for Victims Assistance. If she prefers to talk to someone she knows, Zac’s wife, Maddie, is a counselor. As for you, stay close. Let her know that you’re there when she needs to get it all out. Right now, I’d say she’s focused on her animals and the farm. But it’ll hit her who was responsible, and when it does… well, just be there.” Colt clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Scott, you know what it’s like to lose something and yet know you were lucky to be alive. I have a feeling that’s what will hit her, too.”
Shaking his hand, Scott hurried down the hall, wrapping his arm around Lizzie while thanking Carrie. As they walked to his vehicle, she was quiet, and he kept glancing to the side, wondering what she was thinking. Afraid to ignore, and yet, afraid to ask, they drove home in mostly silence.
Not waiting on him to assist, she climbed down from the passenger seat and immediately headed toward the back. Her feet stumbled ever-so-slightly as she passed the blackened shell of her former barn, hurrying past until she stopped at the pasture gates, the animals crowding near her.
Coming up behind her, Scott placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “The metal bin that held the feed appears unharmed. Let’s get them fed, and they can stay out here tonight.”
She nodded, and together they walked back to the scorched area around the bin holding the food. Working side-by-side, they fed all the animals before heading back to the house. Once inside, she moved to the refrigerator and opened the door, staring inside.
Scott watched her stand, motionless, one hand on the open refrigerator door, her gaze blank. Suddenly, she began to shake violently, and he rushed to her, catching her before she fell to the floor. Her mouth was open as tears ran down her face, but no sound came forth until finally a great sob was forced from her lungs.
“M… m… my own fa… father…”
It was an awkward descent to the floor, but he managed to get her into his lap, his arms wrapped around her tightly, feeling her shudder. Rubbing her back, he murmured words of comfort, hating every painful hitch of her breath. Finally, her crying slowed, and she heaved a deep breath.
“Let it out, baby,” he encouraged.
It took another moment of silence before she
spoke. “He was so full of anger that Papa Beau didn’t include him in the will.”
It was on the tip of Scott’s tongue to interrupt, ranting about the ridiculousness of Robbie’s poor me attitude, but he clamped his jaw tight, knowing that Lizzie needed to speak freely without interruption.
“Papa Beau would have been so horrified at what Robbie tried to do. When I stared at him out in the barn, it was as though I was talking to a complete stranger. I guess he really was.”
“Lizzie, baby, you’re right. He was a stranger. In the end, he didn’t want you to be physically hurt, but he was so blinded by his own desires. I remember Beau talking about him once with me.”
At that, she immediately twisted in his arms, holding his gaze, her face filled with curiosity.
“He told me that the farm had always been in your blood but never in Robbie’s. He actually said that Robbie was very lazy, often getting in trouble as a teenager and young man.”
Letting out a deep sigh, she admitted, “I heard he and Papa Beau arguing the night he left. To be honest, it was after a fight he had with Mom where he accused her of ignoring his needs to work on the farm or take care of me and she argued back that one of them had to work, which just made him angrier. Then he told Papa Beau that he wanted his share of the land and was told that the farm would not be given to someone who did not care about it. He stormed out that night after packing a bag, and I never saw or heard from him again until today. I don’t even know where he’s been all these years.” Blowing out a breath, she shook her head. “I guess he was just lying in wait for Papa Beau to die.”
Scott’s arms pulled her tighter as she dragged in another shuddering breath before letting it out slowly. She leaned her weight against him for another moment before shifting to stand. He followed, watching as she snagged a tissue, wiping her face and blowing her nose.
“Honey, Colt gave me the number for Victims Assistance and mentioned that Maddie was a counselor. I want to make sure that you’re going to be fine, and I want you to call someone if you need them.”
Count On Me: Baytown Boys Page 22
