by Sharon Sala
“I remember there once was one, but I don’t ride, so I have no idea.”
“Just a few more questions, Mr. Wayne, and we’ll be done. Where were you between 9:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. this past Tuesday?”
Blake kept his expression blank, despite the kick in his pulse.
“For most of that time I was at the job site for the new resort being built up by the lake.”
“What was your purpose for being there?”
“We’re investors in the project, and part of my job is to monitor the progress of our investments.”
“What time were you there?” Riordan asked.
“I believe I arrived around ten o’clock, give or take a few minutes, and was there until almost one.”
“Do you have any witnesses to your whereabouts that morning before your arrival at the site?”
Blake sighed. “No. I drove myself out.”
“What does your family have to lose if the resort does not get built?”
Blake blinked. “What makes you think it’s not going to be built?”
“I’ve been told that part of the land needed to move forward with the project is no longer for sale.”
Blake stiffened visibly. “What does that—”
“Just answer the question,” Riordan snapped.
Blake glared. His answer was mostly bluster, and he was afraid it showed. “We’re merely investors. I don’t know what the developers’ plans are. I’m sure they’ll figure something out.”
Riordan watched Blake Wayne turning redder by the moment and knew he’d hit a nerve.
“You’re not merely investors. The lending company that foreclosed on the properties around the lake belongs to Wayne Industries, so you all own the land the investment company will be using to build on. I’m not sure how many laws were broken there.”
Blake paled, but said nothing.
“That will be all for now,” Riordan said. “You’re free to leave, just don’t go back to the library. You’ll all get your phones back when we’re gone.”
Blake left the game room with long, angry strides.
Riordan glanced at his CSI. “Call Jack Wayne in next.”
“Yes, sir,” Griffin said, and left the room.
A minute later Griffin was back with the patriarch of Wayne Industries. Jack entered in Mad Jack form, with long strides and a superior air that ended when he, too, was fingerprinted.
“Have a seat,” Riordan said, pointing to the chair Blake had used.
Jack saw the video camera and tried not to react, but he was already regretting the fact that he hadn’t called their lawyer.
Riordan went through the same set of questions with Jack. Jack showed no reaction whatsoever to any of them, which told Riordan that either Jack Wayne was ignorant of who’d committed the murder or he was a damn good poker player. He claimed no direct knowledge of where the guns were, nor did he know anything about a motorcycle, and he added their company owned many vehicles of all different kinds. His whereabouts during the time of the murder were vague. He’d been out for a while but had come home soon after, then played tennis with the pro until Nita and Fiona showed up with the news of Stanton’s murder. And when questioned about the lake project and the lending company, he simply shrugged and said investments were under Blake’s division.
Justin was called in next and fingerprinted, and despite his Uncle Jack’s caution not to antagonize the police, he made no attempt to hide his disgust at being treated like a common criminal.
Riordan wasn’t impressed with Justin Wayne’s robe and pajamas or with his attitude.
He ran through the same questions with Justin until things took a slight turn when he brought up the fact that Justin and Leigh were twins. Justin’s cold reaction to his sister’s grief seemed odd, and Riordan ran with it.
“How many years has it been since you spoke to your sister?” Riordan asked.
“More than thirty, I guess.”
“Really? I thought twins had a special bond.”
“The only thing our family shares is blood,” Justin said shortly.
“So you’re saying you have no empathy for the fact that Leigh just lost her husband?”
“She became a nonissue when she quit our family,” Justin said. “We don’t cry over spilled milk.”
“Or blood?”
Justin’s cheeks reddened slightly. He’d led with his anger, not his brain, but he managed to control himself now and didn’t respond.
Riordan moved to the next question.
“Do you have a personal interest in the resort that’s being built on the north side of the lake?”
“We all do. Wayne Industries is a family-owned corporation. Whatever investments the company makes are made with family money.”
“And you all share equally in the profits?” Riordan asked.
Justin shifted slightly in his chair.
“Not exactly. Uncle Jack has controlling interest. Then the four of us have equal shares.”
“Does your sister Leigh benefit in any way?”
“Oh, hell, no,” Justin said, and then smirked. “Our father wrote her out of the will when she ran away. It’s what she gets for choosing to live below her social status.”
Riordan frowned. “What do you know about your nephews?”
“I have one nephew. His name is Charles.”
Riordan leaned forward just enough to invade Justin’s personal space.
“But you just told me that the only thing the Waynes share is blood, and like it or not, Leigh’s five sons share your blood.”
Justin slapped the table with the flat of his hand so fast it startled Riordan.
“Her sons have been harassing our family ever since this began, and I’m sick of it. One even stood outside the gate yesterday, just staring and gesturing,” he snapped.
“Well, there are four of them outside your gates right now, along with a gathering crowd of citizens of this fine town, and if someone in your family hadn’t shot their father, I doubt we’d be having this conversation,” Riordan drawled.
Justin’s face went from an angry red to white so fast Riordan thought the man was going to pass out.
“It wasn’t me,” Justin said.
“Where were you that morning?” Riordan asked.
“I took a day off,” Justin said, and met the constable’s gaze without blinking.
“That doesn’t tell me where you were,” Riordan said.
Justin shrugged.
“I slept in. I went for a run. I took a shower and then went for a drive. It’s how I deal with stress.”
“Why are you stressed?” Riordan asked.
Justin smirked. “Everyone is stressed. I’d guess you’re dealing with a little stress of your own right now.”
“Do you have a witness to any of your activities?” Riordan asked.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking for witnesses, because I wasn’t on the mountain chasing a man to kill him.”
Riordan’s heart skipped a beat.
“How did you know someone chased Stanton Youngblood? I never said he was chased. Leigh Youngblood never said he was chased. She said he was shot in the back.”
The smile slid off Justin’s face.
“I guess I heard it, okay? Don’t twist my words trying to pin this on me.”
“I don’t have to try and do anything. Stanton Youngblood did the pinning before he died. All I have to do is sort through the basket of bad apples and pick the rottenest one.”
Justin’s fingers curled into fists.
Riordan pointed at them.
“You have some anger issues, boy. I’m done with you for now.”
Justin stood abruptly, and then turned on one heel and stormed out of the roo
m.
“He’s a lit powder keg, isn’t he?” Riordan said.
Griffin nodded. “Yes, sir. Who do you want to see next?”
Riordan thought for a moment.
“I think we’ll leave the youngest Wayne for last. I’d like to talk to Fiona next.”
“Yes, sir. Be right back,” Griffin said.
Fiona entered carrying her second drink, which was a bad idea considering she hadn’t had breakfast. But she felt confident that the constable would only be going through the motions interviewing her and Nita. They had the only really good alibis. Half the town of Eden could verify where they’d been.
She smiled at Constable Riordan, placed her drink on the table in front of her and started to sit down, then realized she was going to be fingerprinted first.
That rattled her enough that when she finally took a seat she kept her liquor in her hand.
Riordan eyed the glass, smelled the liquor on her breath and frowned. He didn’t want it to come back on him that her statement wouldn’t stand up because she was intoxicated.
“Officer Griffin, I would appreciate it if you’d set the lady’s drink aside until we’ve finished.”
Fiona was a bit taken aback, but she didn’t argue as CSI Griffin put the glass on another table.
Satisfied, Riordan began again, starting by asking her to identify herself and her position in the family.
Fiona answered, and then continued to answer all his questions calmly. Finally she leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs in a casual manner.
“I’m happy to cooperate, but you need to know I have an unimpeachable alibi, and so does my sister, Nita. We spent the morning in Eden shopping, and then went to a spa, and we were on our way to lunch when Leigh and her sons came racing into Eden.”
“That doesn’t relieve you of guilt. You could have hired someone. You could have conspired with one or more of your siblings. Right now, none of you are cleared of anything.”
Fiona paled, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and frowned.
Riordan continued. “What is your interest in the resort being built out by the lake?”
She shrugged. “I know the family corporation made an investment in it. That’s all.”
“How much does the family stand to lose if it doesn’t get built?”
She shrugged. “Blake handles the investments. Ask him.”
Riordan watched the woman’s gaze sliding toward her drink and wondered what he might learn if he kept her waiting long enough.
“What did you think of Leigh’s decision to marry against the wishes of the family?”
“We all thought she was mad. Why would anyone give up all this to go live in poverty?”
“But they aren’t poor,” Riordan said. “In fact, just the opposite. The family thrived, and they’re all quite successful.”
Fiona shrugged. “Whatever spell Stanton held over her is certainly over now, isn’t it?”
“Were you envious of her?” Riordan asked.
Fiona gasped. “No! Why would I be?”
“Your comments are less than kind toward a sibling who’s just been widowed.”
“I’m a widow, too, and no one is fussing over me,” she snapped.
“Did someone in your family murder your husband?”
“Of course not!”
“Then you cannot compare your situation to hers. I think I’ve heard enough for the time being. You may leave now,” he said.
Fiona stood abruptly, grabbed her drink and strode out.
“Wow,” Griffin said.
Riordan grimaced.
“They are a coldhearted bunch,” he said, and then sent Griffin back for the other sister, leaving Charles for last.
Back in the library, Charles watched his Aunt Nita leaving and then glanced at the officer standing at the door. They’d all heard the two officers going through the house looking for weapons. It made him uneasy, thinking about strangers touching their things. He wondered what was going on and kept trying to think if there was anything in his room that might make him look bad. He hated that he was going to be last. He didn’t know how to read that. Was it because he was the youngest and had no personal ties to his aunt or her family, or because of something else? He supposed he would soon find out.
Meanwhile, Nita followed Officer Griffin into the game room, almost burst into tears when she was fingerprinted, then again as she took a seat, looking everywhere but at the constable.
He frowned. She was the first one who’d come in behaving as if she had something to hide. He moved her quickly through the first part of the interrogation and then started on the specifics.
“Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?”
“I suppose, but I haven’t in years.”
“There’s one registered to the family corporation. Where is it kept?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” she muttered.
Riordan quickly changed the subject.
“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. However, I haven’t fired a weapon in several years.”
Riordan glanced down at his notes, then back up at her. There were tiny beads of sweat on her upper lip.
“There are several guns registered to this family. Where are they kept?” he asked.
“Not in this house. Mother never allowed it,” she said, verifying what Blake said and the same answer he’d gotten from all of them.
“Then where are they?”
She shrugged.
“I really don’t know. I don’t live here year-round. Fiona and I both have apartments in New York City, so we don’t keep up with the family stuff like we used to.”
“Where were you on the morning of the murder?”
“Fee and I had been shopping, and then we were in the day spa on Fifth Street. We were going to lunch when Leigh and her sons drove into town. It was the first time I’d seen her since she left home.”
“Really? Not even at the supermarket?”
Nita smirked. “We have people who do all that,” she said. “So, can I go now? Any number of people in Eden can verify my alibi.”
“If you’re that comfortable hiring everything done in your life, who did you hire to kill Stanton Youngblood?”
Nita gasped, choked and then began coughing.
He waited for her answer.
“How dare you insinuate I would do such a—”
“I didn’t insinuate anything. I asked a question. The murdered man already named the family. As far as I’m concerned, none of you are innocent. You could all be in this together, thinking if no single person is named, you’ll all be in the clear. But you’re wrong. Abetting is against the law. Collusion is against the law. Whatever you know and aren’t telling will send you to prison right along with the person who shot Stanton Youngblood in the back.”
“But I didn’t. I don’t...”
“Then where are the family weapons kept?”
She was beginning to shake.
“Last I knew, they were at the lake house.”
Riordan grunted. It seemed he was going to need another search warrant. This was the first any of them had mentioned the lake house.
“And what is the address of this lake house?”
“It’s on Pine Road, about two miles past the crossroad of Pine Road and Boone’s Way.”
“Does anyone live there?”
She shook her head.
“No. It’s just part of the family holdings. We used to host parties there when my father was still alive. Uncle Jack doesn’t like it. I haven’t been there in years.”
“I think that will be all for now. You may leave.”
“When can I have my phone back?” Nita asked.
<
br /> “When we’re gone and not before.”
She left in haste, anxious to be gone before she dissolved into tears. She hadn’t expected the intensity of the questioning, and it scared her.
Riordan glanced at Griffin.
“Call the office and tell Joyce to get a search warrant for that lake house. She can research the address and the other particulars the judge will need.”
“Yes, sir,” Griffin said.
“Go get Charles before you call. Thank God he’s the last member of this damn family.”
“There’s actually one more, but she’s the victim’s wife,” Griffin reminded him, and left the room.
Riordan knew that, and he wasn’t looking forward to the visit. Moments later, Charles Wayne came in unescorted.
“We’ll be waiting for Officer Griffin to fingerprint you,” Riordan said.
Charles sat and then folded his hands in his lap. When he noticed they were videoing the interviews, he wondered how his family had fared. Aunt Fee was close to drunk. Uncle Justin had become, ever since this all began, a raging bull, and Aunt Nita was an airhead. The only two people in the family with common sense were his father and Uncle Jack. And him, of course, but he wasn’t afraid to answer any questions, because he had nothing to hide regarding the murder of a man he’d never heard of, who’d been married to a woman he’d never met.
Riordan pretended to be checking his texts while surreptitiously eyeing the youngest Wayne. He looked nothing like the others, and Riordan wondered what his status was within the family. Did he actually participate in the family business, or was he just coasting through life on the family name and money?
At that moment Griffin entered and gave Riordan a slight nod to let him know the search warrant for the lake house was in the works.
“This way, please,” Griffin said to Charles, then fingerprinted him.
As soon as Charles sat down again, Griffin adjusted the camera, then nodded.
“Ready when you are, sir,” Griffin said.
“Then let’s do it,” Riordan said. “Mr. Wayne, please, state your name, your place in the family and how long you’ve lived in Eden.”
Charles was calm, and stayed calm as the questioning went on. The tone of his voice was polite and properly respectful of an officer of the law. He answered with, a “no, sir” or a “yes, sir” and was more forthcoming than he had to be.
