Rain, blown by the storm, hit the glass with such force it made Bowie flinch. A shaft of lightning struck in the forest beyond the backyard. It was like watching fire explode. The tree caught fire, even in the rain, but the flames quickly died out.
He kept thinking of what he’d learned about the Wayne family’s rumored involvement in the resort project. After giving Riordan that information earlier in the evening, he hoped it might point a finger at who had the most to lose, which could easily put a name to the killer. Either way, he wasn’t leaving his mother until the murderer was behind bars.
Thunder rumbled across the sky as he dropped the curtain and moved back to the bed. He was tired and needed to rest, but as he stretched out on the mattress, all he could think of was his father in the morgue and his mother on the living room sofa, crying herself to sleep. It was the sound of the rain on the roof that lulled him, and the next time he woke his alarm was going off.
He rolled over to shut it off as the scent of fresh coffee drifted down the hall. Guessing his mother was already in the kitchen, he headed for the bathroom while it was empty. There was no time to waste this morning. This was Constable Riordan’s chance to do the right thing, and he and his brothers intended to make sure the man was there to do it.
Bowie was in and out of the shower in record time, and dressed before Jesse woke. Leigh was at the stove frying bacon as he entered the kitchen. He paused to kiss her on the cheek.
“Morning, Mama.”
Leigh’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, but she had a smile for him.
“Good morning, son. I’m making pancakes shortly, and the coffee’s done. Pour yourself a cup and sit with me while I finish up.”
“Does Jesse need help dressing?” he asked.
Leigh shook her head.
“Not really. It’s strange what he’s still capable of doing. It’s like his view of the world and his vocabulary are childlike, but his technical and motor skills are still there.”
“How do you mean?” Bowie asked.
“For instance, he’s still every bit as good a shot as he was in the army. And he can break a rifle down and put it back together better than Stanton could.”
“Really? That’s actually amazing. I didn’t know that.”
“Yes, and he’s retained his tracking skills. Remember when he went through his Daniel Boone phase in grade school and pestered Dad to teach him the different kinds of animal tracks, and how to track people, too?”
Bowie smiled, thinking of the story he’d read to Jesse.
“Yes, I remember.”
“He was a crack shot in the military, and still is,” Leigh said.
“Translate that to sniper in the war and, yes, I knew that, too.”
Leigh shrugged.
“War is war, and I’m at war right now with my blood kin.”
“I know, Mama, and if Riordan knows what’s good for him, he’ll be at the Wayne estate today.”
She sighed and wiped her hands on the front of her apron.
“I’m starting the pancakes now. If Jesse’s not awake already, just tell him what I’m making.”
Bowie grinned. “And then stand back?”
Leigh chuckled.
“Yes. It’s proceed at your own risk, if you get between Jesse and his food.”
Bowie left the kitchen in a hurry. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he felt like Jesse when it came to Mama’s cooking.
*
Constable Riordan left the precinct just after eight-thirty with Brady Griffin, the head of his crime scene team, riding shotgun. Two deputies escorted them in a second car. They were on their way to Eden.
Riordan had called Chief Clayton that morning and asked him to send an officer to meet them at the Wayne residence at nine, and then Riordan had called the Wayne estate. When the maid answered the phone, he identified himself and asked to speak to Jackson Wayne. He heard her gasp, and then she asked him to wait. Moments later he heard someone pick up on an extension, and then Mad Jack’s voice was blasting in his ear.
“Do you know what time it is? I do not take calls before breakfast!”
Riordan held firm to his intent. He wasn’t going to be bulldozed by the Wayne family or anyone else when he had a murder to solve.
“I called early to tell you that I’m on my way over. Please, inform the rest of your family that I expect them all to be there to discuss Stanton Youngblood’s murder. If they are not, I will be visiting them at their places of business.”
Jack Wayne cursed. “You do not threaten me or mine!” he shouted.
“No, Mr. Wayne, you do not threaten me or my authority. I am investigating a murder in which someone from your family was named as the killer. The fact that one of you was involved in the death of a good man is not my problem. It’s yours. Do we understand each other?”
“I have connections and will not allow—”
“If you’re referring to our illustrious governor, know that I have already replied to his request regarding you, and once it was pointed out to his office that he might want to distance himself from protecting a murderer, he understood the situation so much better. We will be there around 9:00 a.m.”