“Good for you, son. Life is too short to waste.” Then she went back inside, leaving him to dry off and get dressed.
He could hear the women talking in the living room as he walked in the back door. He slipped through the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom without them knowing he was there. By the time he got back to the front of the house, he’d plaited his wet hair into one long braid and was wearing clean, dry clothes. He needed to tell his mother what he’d found out, and talk to his brothers about being in Eden tomorrow morning to see if Constable Riordan showed.
He was walking into the living room when he glanced out the front window and saw a truck coming toward the house.
Leigh walked up behind him and put a hand on his back.
“It’s Samuel. He texted me he was coming.”
Bowie frowned. “It must be important to get him out in weather like this. Is something wrong?”
“He came to take Polly home. Your Uncle Carl twisted his ankle today and isn’t able to drive.”
“Oh, sorry about Uncle Carl, but I’m glad Samuel is here. I need to talk to the both of you before he leaves.”
Leigh rushed to open the front door as Samuel came running through the rain. He leaped up onto the porch, thankful to be out of the rain, and began taking off his rain gear, leaving it beside the door before going inside.
“Hi, Mama,” Samuel said, as he gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, honey. Did you have any trouble getting here?”
“No. The roads were clear. Other than the heavy rain, it’s all okay.” Then he glanced at Bowie and saw his wet hair. “You’ve been out?”
“In town. We need to talk,” Bowie said.
“Come into the kitchen,” Leigh said. “Polly is making coffee and cutting a chocolate pie.”
They followed their mother into the kitchen and greeted their Aunt Polly with a hug.
“Can we help?” Bowie asked.
“I’ve got it,” Polly said. “You boys take a seat.”
They grinned at each other. For as long as the older generation lived, they were always going to be “the boys.”
Once the pie and coffee were served and everyone was at the table, Bowie began telling them what he’d learned, what he’d done, and why he and his brothers needed to be at the Wayne estate tomorrow morning.
Leigh was unusually silent, but Bowie could tell something was running through her mind.
“I suspect Uncle Jack is pulling in favors,” she finally said. “They’ll try to buy their way out of the whole thing.”
“It won’t matter,” Bowie said. “I’ve already warned Riordan that I’ll give the whole story to the press. Rich people in trouble are prime news.”
Leigh looked surprised, then nodded approvingly.
“Yes, that would stir things up,” she said. “Good move.”
“I wonder if they got anything from the ballistics report?” Samuel asked.
Bowie frowned. “What do you know about a ballistics report?”
“I found the shooter’s shell casing at the scene. One of the crime scene investigators took it into evidence.”
“Could you tell what caliber the gun was?” Bowie asked.
“It was a rifle,” Leigh said. “I heard it. Nothing else sounds like a rifle shot.”
Samuel frowned. “Looked like a 30-30 casing to me.”
“If we knew that for sure, Michael could put his hacker skills to good use and see if any weapons of that caliber are registered to the Waynes.”
“Dad had one once,” Leigh said. “All of us kids got together and gave it to him for Christmas one year.”
“Something to pass on,” Bowie said.
Polly had been listening to the conversation, but she knew something the boys did not. She reached for a tissue in her pocket and dabbed at a fresh set of tears.
“Carl thinks it might have something to do with Stanton and Leigh paying off our bank loan, and Thomas and Beth’s loan, too.”
Bowie frowned. “What do you mean, Aunt Polly?”
“The bank began finding reasons to foreclose on all the outstanding loans down where we live. At least a half-dozen of our nearest neighbors lost their homes. We would have, too, if it hadn’t been for your parents.”
“Why?” Bowie asked.
“There’s a big consortium gathering land to build a resort on the north side of the lake. Tourist business has really picked up in the last four or five years,” Samuel said.
“Let me guess. The Waynes are investors in the resort?” Bowie asked.
Polly nodded. “And our land sits right in the middle of the project.”
Bowie looked at Samuel.
Samuel shrugged. “It could explain why Daddy was targeted.”
Bowie looked at his mother.
“Mama, did Daddy ever mention being concerned that paying off the loans could cripple the project?”
“No, and I wouldn’t have put any of it together if it hadn’t been for Polly.”
“What will happen if they don’t get your land, Aunt Polly?” Bowie asked.