Riordan caught a hint of a smirk in Blake’s quick response, as if he was all too willing to share that information.
“Then where does the family store their weapons? Because our research shows that there are quite a few registered to the family corporation.”
“I’m not sure. Hunting isn’t my thing.”
“Can you shoot?” Riordan asked.
Blake hesitated a moment too long before he answered.
“Well, yes, but I don’t care for the sport.”
“Where is the motorcycle that belongs to the family?”
“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?”