Family Sins

by Sharon Sala

  “Stop!” she cried, and then leaned her forehead against Samuel’s chest and began to shake. “He’s dead, Samuel, he’s dead. Someone shot him in the back.”

  He looked down at his father in disbelief, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his father was dead. Tears rolled.

  “Mama, what happened?”

  She pulled out of his arms and pointed down.

  “I don’t know why this happened, but your daddy named his killer before he died.”

  Samuel looked down, saw the word and frowned.

  “Wayne? Wayne who? Who do we know—”

  “No!” she screamed. “Not Wayne who! My family. Those Waynes! Oh my God, they finally did it. They killed him, just like they threatened they would.”

  Within seconds Michael and Aidan came running into the clearing. Aidan tied Mollie up and then ran to join their mother. The shock of finding out it was her screams they’d been following was horrifying, and then they saw their father’s body.

  Aidan leaped forward as if he’d been launched, screaming, “Daddy! No, Daddy, no!”

  Samuel turned and caught him.

  Tears were running down Michael’s face as he took his mother into his arms. “What happened, Mama?”

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I was in the garden. I heard a shot, and I don’t know how to explain it, but I knew. I ran until I found him.” She pulled out of his arms and shoved her fingers through her hair, as if trying to gather her thoughts. “Did one of you bring your phone?”

  All three of them pulled their phones out of their pockets.

  “Not sure we can get a signal here,” Samuel said.

  “You don’t need a signal to take pictures. Take pictures of your daddy, your daddy’s hand, and then the name he scratched in the dirt before something happens to it. Someone in my family did this.”

  Aidan looked down, saw the name and all of his father’s blood that had seeped into the ground beneath him, and then staggered away and threw up.

  Leigh had set aside her grief. It was rage carrying her through this tragedy, and when Aidan got sick she strode after him, impatience in every step.

  “We have no time for this,” she said, as she grabbed his ponytail and held it back.

  Even in anger, she was tending her own as she held his hair back away from his face while the spasms rolled through him.

  Aidan took a deep breath and then straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “I’m sorry, it just... I can’t believe... Why, Mama? Why?”

  “I don’t know, but I will find out which one of my siblings did this, and I will make them sorry they were ever born.”

  The three brothers stared at her then, magnificent in her grief with the glare of the sunlight behind her, and her hair all wide and tangled around her scratched and bloody face. She looked like a warrior woman from another time.

  Michael glanced at Samuel and then pointed at his father’s body.

  “You two take the pictures. I’m going to try calling the constable.”

  Leigh stood to one side, watching the proceedings without voicing the obvious.

  Life as they’d known it was over.

  * * *

  Walter Riordan was in his twenty-fourth year of serving as county constable. He’d seen a lot of the sad side of life, but when he got a phone call from Michael Youngblood and heard the details of what had happened, his heart sank. Incidents like this one were how blood feuds began. Michael gave him the GPS readings from his phone, which gave Riordan a clear location.

  “It will take us at least thirty minutes to get there,” Riordan said.

  Michael looked back at his mother, who was standing guard over their father’s body.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” he said, and disconnected, then ran back to the scene. “I spoke to Constable Riordan. It will be at least thirty minutes, maybe more, before they can get here.”

  Leigh thought about Jesse alone at their house.

  “Samuel, please call Bella and ask her to go stay with Jesse.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and then started walking until he had enough bars on his phone to make a call.

  Bella answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” he said.

  “Are you okay? Did you find out what happened?”

  He tried to say it without breaking down, but the truth was too appalling.

  “Daddy’s dead. Mama found him in the woods, shot in the back. He scratched the name ‘Wayne’ in the dirt before he died.”

  Bella gasped, and then started crying.

  “Who’s Wayne? Why would someone kill your daddy?”

  “Mama says it’s someone from her family. She’s gone all quiet. I’ve never seen her like this. It’s nothing but pure rage.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Mama asked if you would please go to the house and stay with Jesse until we can all get back.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll leave right now. Oh, Sammie, this just breaks my heart. I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I, honey, so am I. I’ll see you there later.”

  He disconnected and hurried back to his mother. “She’s on her way. What do you need me to do?” he asked.

  She pointed into the woods.

  “Take Big Red. See if you can find where the killer stood. It has to be in that general direction. If Red can catch the scent, set him on it and see how far he’ll take you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Samuel said, and ran for the dog, then headed into the woods as Michael and Aidan called their wives with the news. Like Bella, the other two daughters-in-law headed to the home place to be with Jesse.

  It didn’t take Samuel long to find his daddy’s footprints because he recognized the boot tread, and even less time to find where the killer had stood when he shot him. He searched around the area and found an ejected cartridge. Rather than pick it up and possibly ruin a fingerprint, he marked the spot with a small pile of rocks, took a picture of the footprints, then set Big Red on the scent and held tight to the leash as the dog headed down the mountain.

  It was easy to follow the trail because the killer had been running and making no attempt to hide his tracks. Samuel took note of the length of the stride as he paused more than once to take pictures.

  Within ten minutes Red stopped and yipped. He’d lost the scent. Samuel followed him as he began circling the area, trying to pick it up again. The ground was hard and rocky beneath the trees, and when Samuel finally saw tire tracks from a motorcycle, his heart sank. The shooter was gone. The hunt was over. He pulled in the leash and then stopped.

  “That’s good, boy. That’s good,” he said, patting the big hound. “Let’s go back. Let’s go find Mollie.”

  The dog trotted beside Samuel as they headed back up the mountain, his tongue hanging. When they crossed a small creek Samuel stopped to let Red drink. A little rabbit hopped farther back into the brush, and a pair of squirrels scolded from the canopy above their head.

  Samuel took a couple of steps upstream from Red and squatted down beside the trickling water to wipe the sweat from his face. As he leaned over to sweep his hand through the water, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. He’d always taken great pride in looking like his father, but now it was a reminder of their loss. He set his jaw as he sloshed the water on his face. Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he stood, mixing with the water droplets as he started back up the mountain with his dog. By the time he got back to the murder scene, cops were everywhere, and the ache in his chest was firmly entrenched.

  * * *

  Leigh’s silent vigil over Stanton’s body ended when the constable and his men arrived. Once she had given her statement, she had to watch from a distance as the crime scene inve
stigators began taking pictures of everything from the name that he’d scribbled in the dirt to the position of his body. When the medical examiner rolled the body over and realized the shot had been a through and through, the crime scene officers began looking for a bullet, hoping it had hit a tree.

  When Michael and Aidan offered to help look, their offer was rejected, so they went to stand beside their mother. They stood for a few moments before they realized she was too quiet, and began to get concerned.

  Leigh’s expression was evidence of her contempt as she watched the officers stomping around the area and examining the trees in search of the missing bullet.

  “Both of you, please, go help those fools find the bullet. It’s going to help us name the killer.”

  “We offered. They told us to step aside.”

  “Oh my God,” she muttered, as she ran a shaky hand through her tangled hair.

  “You don’t think they’ll find it?” Michael asked.

  She pointed.

  “No. Just look at them. They can plainly see where Stanton is lying and a direct line of shot would be there.” She pointed toward the northeast. “And yet look where they’re at.”

  Aidan frowned. “I don’t care what they said. I’m going to help search. This is ridiculous.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Michael said.

  They were on the other side of the clearing when Samuel came up behind his mother. He tied Big Red up and then slid a hand across her shoulder.

  She spun immediately.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “I found a cartridge casing, and then the trail ended a ways down. He got away on a motorcycle.”

  “Where’s the cartridge?” she asked.

  “I marked the trail and let it lie. I figure the crime scene investigators will need to bag and process it.”

  Leigh paused for a moment, staring up at her second son, then she cupped his face. Her voice shook as she spoke.

  “You and Bowie look so much like your daddy.”

  Samuel pulled her into his arms.

  “We love you, Mama. We’ll all be here for you and Jesse. Always.”

  She drew a slow, shaky breath. There were tears on her face when she pulled away, but the fire in her eyes was even brighter.

  “Do you have Bowie’s number on your phone?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Do you want to call him?”

  He watched a muscle jerk at the side of her jaw and then the tears began to fall in earnest.

  “I can’t say the words yet. Will you call him for me? Tell him I need him. Tell him I said to come home.”

  “Yes, I’ll call. I have to go find a signal. I won’t be long.”

  Leigh watched him walking away and for a moment could almost imagine it was Stanton.

  Oh my God. Stanton. How am I going to live life without you in it?

  Two

  Samuel tried to call Bowie but had to leave a message for him to return the call, then headed for Constable Riordan instead.

  “Sir, I have some information for you.”

  “I’m listening,” Riordan said.

  “I took my dog and trailed the shooter all the way down the mountain until the trail ended at a set of tire tracks. It was some kind of motorcycle. I took pictures of the tread and of his footprints. Give me a number and I’ll send the pictures to you. Also, there’s a spent cartridge in the brush where the shooter stood. If you’ll get one of your investigators to follow me, I’ll show him where it is. I marked the spot without picking it up.”

  Riordan’s eyes widened.

  “Good job,” he said, and then added, “I’m sure sorry for your loss. Stanton was a good man.”

  Samuel’s eyes were glassy from unshed tears, and his chest was so tight it hurt to breathe.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, and waited.

  The constable called out to one of the investigators, who came on the run.

  “What’s up?” the man asked.

  “This is Samuel Youngblood, one of the victim’s sons. He found a spent cartridge. Follow him to bag it.”

  “Yes, sir,” the investigator said, and took off after Samuel, who was already walking away.

  Despite being frowned at for interfering, it was Aidan who located the tree where the missing bullet was lodged. He turned and called out, “Here! I found the bullet.”

  A couple of the investigators came running, one with a small handsaw and the other right behind him carrying his evidence recovery kit.

  Aidan watched them saw a notch out of the tree with the bullet still in it.

  “Why didn’t you just dig it out of the tree?” he asked.

  “It can ruin the striations,” the investigator explained.

  “Ah, makes sense,” Aidan said, and watched them bag it up, tag it and enter it into evidence.

  * * *

  Bella Youngblood was relieved to see Jesse sitting on the porch when she drove up and parked. He was rocking too fast, which told her he was nervous, but at least he was still there.

  She got out and hurried up the steps. “Hi, Jesse.”

  He nodded. “Hi, Bella. Mama told me to stay here. The war’s coming,” he said.

  Bella was a tall, buxom blonde and used to Jesse’s ways. She knelt in front of the rocker and patted his knee until he looked into her eyes.

  “Are you hungry, Jesse?”

  He nodded.

  “Want to come into the house with me? You can show me what you want to eat.”

  “Mama’s gone. She told me to stay right here.”

  “She’ll be back,” Bella said, then stood up and opened the front door. “She won’t care if you come inside with me.”

  Jesse got up and followed her into the house.

  They were frying bacon for sandwiches when Maura and Leslie walked into the kitchen. Maura was six months pregnant, and Leslie was carrying her eighteen-month-old toddler on her hip.

  When the baby saw Jesse, he squealed.

  A big smile broke across Jesse’s face, and in that moment they could see the man he’d been.

  “Hey, it’s my little buddy,” Jesse said, and sat down immediately and held out his arms.

  Leslie laughed, leaned over and kissed Jesse on the cheek, and then handed over her wiggling toddler.

  “Johnny sure loves his Uncle Jesse,” she said.

  Jesse looked up at her. “Jesse loves Johnny, too.”

  “I know, honey,” Leslie said, and then quickly turned away before she started to cry.

  None of them wanted to let on that anything was wrong and get him upset, so there was no mention of what had happened or the sadness they were all feeling.

  “Are you guys up for a BLT?” Bella asked.

  Maura shook her head.

  “No thanks. I was eating soup when Michael called. I’m good.”

  Leslie held up her hand.

  “I was feeding Johnny when Aidan called. He’s eaten, but I haven’t. I would love one if there’s enough.”

  “Yes, there’s enough,” Bella said, and added a few more strips of bacon to the skillet.

  “Ow, ow, ow,” Jesse said.

  The baby laughed.

  They all turned to look. Johnny had his little fists wrapped in Jesse’s long brown hair, and every time Jesse made a face and cried out, the toddler pulled his hair.

  “Don’t let him hurt you,” Leslie cautioned.

  Jesse pulled the baby to his chest. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said, and rubbed the baby’s curly head, then looked at Leslie. “Long hair, too?”

  Leslie nodded. “Yes, Johnny’s hair will get long like yours.”

  Jesse nodded. “Daddy says ‘Youngblood tradition.’”

  The women’
s eyes welled with tears.

  “You’re right. It is a Youngblood tradition.”

  “Like Samson in the Bible,” Jesse added, and hugged the little boy again.

  Bella swallowed back tears. “There’s enough bacon fried to start making sandwiches. Maura, get the bread and mayo, and, Leslie, would you please slice up a couple of tomatoes, and then put ice in the glasses and pour some sweet tea?”

  The young women set about their tasks, but their hearts were heavy. These moments here with Jesse were the calm before the storm. Once Leigh returned and the truth of their lives was out in the open, nothing would ever be the same.

  * * *

  The killer rode the motorcycle like a bat out of hell, taking all the back roads down the mountain to the Wayne family lake house. He rode straight into the detached garage and parked against the wall behind a half-dozen ATVs, grabbed a rag hanging from a nail and wiped the bike down to remove any fingerprints, then covered it with a tarp.

  The walk to the lake house was brief, and once inside, he got the cleaning kit and set about breaking down the rifle. By the time he was through cleaning it and then wiping it free of fingerprints, no one would know it had been fired. It would be back in the gun case with the others, with no one the wiser.

  When the job was finished and the gun replaced inside the case, he locked up and left. After one swift glance around to make sure nothing was out of place, he drove away in a dusty black Lexus.

  * * *

  Leigh watched them putting her husband in the body bag, and when they zipped it up, she pressed her fingers against her lips to keep from screaming as they took him away.

  When Samuel touched her shoulder, she turned to him with purpose.

  “Samuel, I need to borrow your phone. I have to call your Aunt Polly. That’s where Stanton went this morning. Then I need to call your Uncle Thomas. Stanton’s sister and brother need to hear what happened from me.”

  Samuel took out his phone and checked the signal.

  “The signal is good here. Their numbers are in my contact list if you need them.”

  “I know them,” Leigh said, and wiped her hands on her pants before she took the phone from his hands.