“I love you, too, Bowie. I always have.”
She disconnected just as another clap of thunder sounded, followed by a bright flash of lightning. She jumped when she heard the crack and ran to the window to look out. Since she didn’t see anything on fire, she went back to the living room to her father’s bed.
She leaned over to stroke the side of his face and then gently patted his shoulder beneath the sheets.
“It’s raining, Dad. Lots of thunder and lightning, but that’s all. Everything is okay. I’m going to turn on TV for a bit, but I’ll keep it low. I just want to keep an eye on the weather reports.”
She turned on the TV at the other end of the room, then sat back down in the rocker. If there was a weather bulletin of any kind, she would hear when they signaled the warning. But she was so tired, and it had been a relief to hear Bowie’s voice again so soon. She closed her eyes for just a moment during a commercial and fell asleep.
*
Jack Wayne had stewed all day about the dark cloud over the family name. Never in their history had they been faced with anything this vile. It wasn’t to say that none of their ancestors had ever done anything like this, but they’d never been caught.
As soon as the cook served dessert and coffee, he pushed his aside. He slapped the table with the flat of his hand, rattling china and silver, and startling them all.
Blake looked up and glared. “What the hell, Uncle Jack?”
Jack looked pointedly at Justin and then addressed the room.
“Every one of you, save Charles, knew Stanton Youngblood, or at least knew who he was, so I want to know why you think he was worth killing.”
Silence.
Nita’s fork scraped the plate as she took a dainty bite of cake.
Her social faux pas made everyone turn to look.
She poked the cake in her mouth and then committed a second gaffe by talking with her mouth full.
“What?” she asked.
Fiona rolled her eyes.
Blake glared at his uncle again.
“You surely don’t expect an answer to that question, do you? The only person with any knowledge would be the one who did the deed. And I don’t know how the rest of you feel, but I wouldn’t admit to a hangnail in front of any of you. I didn’t do it, but if I had, I wouldn’t trust one of you not to feed me to the lions of the law just to get this monkey off your backs.”
Jack was taken aback. “You aren’t serious?”
Blake gestured toward his family.
“Look at their faces if you don’t believe me! Just look at them. They can’t even meet each other’s eyes right now because they know I’m right.”
Jack leaned forward, staring intently at each one of them in turn.
“So who did it? If you won’t tell me, how can I create the perfect alibi for you? I can, you know.”
Silence.
Jack sat there for a moment and then delivered a question none of them had thought to ask themselves.
“Then answer me this...how many of you can account for your whereabouts on the morning of the murder? Were there witnesses? Who outside of the family can corroborate your whereabouts?”
Fiona spoke up at once.
“Nita and I were in town, and in and out of shops. Dozens of people saw us when we were being waited on,” Fiona said.
“Yes, we talked to lots of people,” Nita added.
Jack nodded, then glanced at Blake. “And you?”
“I was in and out of the office,” he said.
“Out where?” Jack asked.
Blake sighed. “I was out at the resort site, but I was talking to people the whole time.”
“How close is that to the murder scene?” Jack asked.
Blake shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t know where the man was killed, other than on the mountain.”
Jack’s gaze shifted to Justin.
Justin glared back. “What? Before, you slapped the shit out of me to make me shut up, and now you want me to talk? What if I don’t want to?”
Jack shrugged.
“You were acting like a madman, screaming obscenities for so long I actually heard you from inside the house—even though the wind was already gearing up for the thunderstorm that’s here now.”
Blake and Charles looked as startled as they felt.
“You hit Justin?” Blake asked.
“No, I slapped him. If I’d hit him with my fist, he’d still be lying out there in the rain,” Jack said shortly, and gave his great-nephew Charles a studied look. “It’s already evident that you have more manly brawn than your relatives. Pity they took after their mother, God rest her soul. I sincerely hope you have more brains than the rest of them, as well.”
Charles paled and then flushed. It was extremely embarrassing to be held up as an example to all of his elders, and he was pissed off at Jack for doing it.
“I’m sorry, but it’s very rude of you to shame them and use me to do it. I don’t appreciate it. It makes me feel like you’re trying to drive a wedge between us,” Charles said, and then set his cake and coffee aside. “Excuse me. I’ve lost my appetite, and I’m going to go see some friends.”
He walked out without looking at anyone.