Nita was in white slacks and braless under a nearly sheer summer blouse that was bordering on indecent. At first glance she appeared to be reading a book, although she hadn’t turned a page in almost fifteen minutes. She was daydreaming about sex with Andrew, and the excitement from the daydream had translated into a high pink flush on her cheeks.
Fiona had chosen a demure sundress with huge white lilies on black, a walking homage to Georgia O’Keeffe. She had bypassed breakfast for the bourbon and Coke, and was about to refresh it when they heard footsteps in the hall.
They all looked up as Frances, the maid, walked in.
“Constable Riordan to see you,” Frances said, and made a quick exit as Riordan and his team entered the room.
Blake closed his laptop and stood, as if to initiate the conversation.
The action irked Jack, who quickly took charge. Last time he’d looked, he was still the head of this household.
“Well, we’re here, Riordan. Feel free to begin at any time,” Jack said.
Riordan eyed the assortment of family members and handed Jack a search warrant.
Forgetting his own warning to play it cool, Jack bellowed, “What the hell is this for?”
“We’re confiscating all rifles registered to anyone in the family and taking possession of the motorcycle registered, as well.”
“Well, you can look until hell freezes over, but you won’t find any guns here. Guns have never been allowed in this house. And I don’t know anything about a motorcycle, but I do know there’s not one on these premises, so knock yourself out.”
Riordan ignored him and nodded at the two officers he’d brought with him.
“Proceed,” he said, then turned to the family. “Until this case is solved, you are not to leave the area. You may not travel out of the country, so I’ll need your passports before I leave. I will speak to you one at a time, and when I am finished, you are not to return to this room. At my request, Chief Clayton sent one of his officers to assist me. He will stay here in the library to carry out my orders. I want no communication between any of you until my men and I have left the house, and I want all of your cell phones left on the desk when you exit the room. Is there another room I can use to take your statements?”
Jack’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t argue.
“Blake, he can begin with you. Show him to the game room. There are plenty of tables and chairs in there for him to choose from.”
Blake left his phone on the desk and led Riordan and Griffin out of the library without comment, then down the hall about thirty feet to a doorway on the right. He turned on the light as he entered, revealing a room papered in red-and-gold stripes, with gold draperies and a fleur-de-lis pattern in the matching red-and-gold carpet. All the furniture, from the chairs at the poker table to the theater seating in front of the giant-screen television at the end of the room, was black.
“This will do fine,” Riordan said. “Mr. Griffin, if you will set up the video equipment and prepare for fingerprinting, we’ll get started.”
CSI Griffin quickly unpacked the case he’d been carrying and within a few minutes had the digital recorder ready to go, then set up what he needed to fingerprint the suspects, as well.
“Ready when you are, sir.”
Blake moved to the fingerprint setup, struggling with the fact that he was being fingerprinted like any common criminal, and when they were finished he sullenly took a seat. He took a deep breath and tried not to look as antsy as he felt with a video camera aimed at his face.
Riordan began with a request to have him state his name, age, place of residence and occupation.
Blake’s defiance was obvious as he answered the questions with his chin up and his eyes fixed on Riordan’s face.
“Do you know why we’re here?” Riordan asked.
Blake nodded.
“Please, state your answers aloud,” Riordan said.
“Yes, you’re here to question us about the death of Stanton Youngblood,” Blake said.
“No, I’m here to question you about the murder of Stanton Youngblood,” Riordan countered.
Blake flushed as Riordan continued.
“What relation was Stanton Youngblood to you?”
“Legally, my brother-in-law,” Blake said.
The questioning continued, with Riordan asking Blake to explain the ill will between the Waynes and their sister’s family, asking if there had ever been a threat made against the victim’s life.
“Yes, there was a threat, but that was over thirty years ago, when she married against our father’s wishes, but we haven’t had any contact with her or her husband since.”
Riordan went through another list of questions, tailoring them to match the way Blake answered, until he got down to the murder weapon.
“Who owns a 30-30 hunting rifle?”
Blake’s heart skipped a beat as he realized they’d already identified the weapon, but he shrugged.
“I’m sure the family owns guns, but as Uncle Jack already stated, there are no guns under this roof, nor have there ever been. Mother wouldn’t have it, and our father always catered to her wishes.”