Family Sins

Nine

As ordered, the Waynes were present and seated in the library. Except for the ice tinkling in Fiona’s bourbon and Coke, the room was completely silent. The fact that Fiona was already drinking spoke to her anxiety.

Mad Jack sat in the chair behind the grand desk, wearing a gray Gucci suit and a pink shirt. With the shock of white hair combed into a semblance of order, he posed like a king on his throne, glaring at his subjects.

The others were all seated in separate chairs, as if no one wanted to be too close to anyone else, afraid of guilt by association.

Blake’s frown contradicted the casual style of his dark slacks and white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up a couple of turns past his wrist, and he’d left two buttons open at the collar. He had his laptop balanced on his knees, hoping he looked more at ease than he felt. His belly was churning with every keystroke as he ran through the latest figures from the New York Stock Exchange.

Justin had come down in a navy and silver robe over white silk pajamas-his silent rebellion against Mad Jack’s earlier demand to get dressed-and was pretending to read the New York Times on his iPad. He couldn’t help thinking that Leigh had orchestrated this inquisition, and he resented the hell out of his twin for that.

Charles was wearing designer sweats in a startling cardinal red, his head down, his entire attention seemingly focused on his phone and the text he was composing.

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.”

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?”

“We all do. Wayne Industries is a family-owned corporation. Whatever investments the company makes are made with family money.”

“And you all share equally in the profits?” Riordan asked.

Justin shifted slightly in his chair.

“Not exactly. Uncle Jack has controlling interest. Then the four of us have equal shares.”

“Does your sister Leigh benefit in any way?”

“Oh, hell, no,” Justin said, and then smirked. “Our father wrote her out of the will when she ran away. It’s what she gets for choosing to live below her social status.”

Riordan frowned. “What do you know about your nephews?”

“I have one nephew. His name is Charles.”

Riordan leaned forward just enough to invade Justin’s personal space.

“But you just told me that the only thing the Waynes share is blood, and like it or not, Leigh’s five sons share your blood.”

Justin slapped the table with the flat of his hand so fast it startled Riordan.

“Her sons have been harassing our family ever since this began, and I’m sick of it. One even stood outside the gate yesterday, just staring and gesturing,” he snapped.

“Well, there are four of them outside your gates right now, along with a gathering crowd of citizens of this fine town, and if someone in your family hadn’t shot their father, I doubt we’d be having this conversation,” Riordan drawled.

Justin’s face went from an angry red to white so fast Riordan thought the man was going to pass out.

“It wasn’t me,” Justin said.

“Where were you that morning?” Riordan asked.

“I took a day off,” Justin said, and met the constable’s gaze without blinking.

“That doesn’t tell me where you were,” Riordan said.

Justin shrugged.

“I slept in. I went for a run. I took a shower and then went for a drive. It’s how I deal with stress.”

“Why are you stressed?” Riordan asked.

Justin smirked. “Everyone is stressed. I’d guess you’re dealing with a little stress of your own right now.”

“Do you have a witness to any of your activities?” Riordan asked.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking for witnesses, because I wasn’t on the mountain chasing a man to kill him.”

Riordan’s heart skipped a beat.

“How did you know someone chased Stanton Youngblood? I never said he was chased. Leigh Youngblood never said he was chased. She said he was shot in the back.”

The smile slid off Justin’s face.

“I guess I heard it, okay? Don’t twist my words trying to pin this on me.”

“I don’t have to try and do anything. Stanton Youngblood did the pinning before he died. All I have to do is sort through the basket of bad apples and pick the rottenest one.”

Justin’s fingers curled into fists.

Riordan pointed at them.

“You have some anger issues, boy. I’m done with you for now.”

Justin stood abruptly, and then turned on one heel and stormed out of the room.

“He’s a lit powder keg, isn’t he?” Riordan said.

Griffin nodded. “Yes, sir. Who do you want to see next?”

Riordan thought for a moment.

“I think we’ll leave the youngest Wayne for last. I’d like to talk to Fiona next.”

“Yes, sir. Be right back,” Griffin said.

Fiona entered carrying her second drink, which was a bad idea considering she hadn’t had breakfast. But she felt confident that the constable would only be going through the motions interviewing her and Nita. They had the only really good alibis. Half the town of Eden could verify where they’d been.

She smiled at Constable Riordan, placed her drink on the table in front of her and started to sit down, then realized she was going to be fingerprinted first.

That rattled her enough that when she finally took a seat she kept her liquor in her hand.

Riordan eyed the glass, smelled the liquor on her breath and frowned. He didn’t want it to come back on him that her statement wouldn’t stand up because she was intoxicated.

“Officer Griffin, I would appreciate it if you’d set the lady’s drink aside until we’ve finished.”

Fiona was a bit taken aback, but she didn’t argue as CSI Griffin put the glass on another table.

Satisfied, Riordan began again, starting by asking her to identify herself and her position in the family.

Fiona answered, and then continued to answer all his questions calmly. Finally she leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs in a casual manner.

“I’m happy to cooperate, but you need to know I have an unimpeachable alibi, and so does my sister, Nita. We spent the morning in Eden shopping, and then went to a spa, and we were on our way to lunch when Leigh and her sons came racing into Eden.”

“That doesn’t relieve you of guilt. You could have hired someone. You could have conspired with one or more of your siblings. Right now, none of you are cleared of anything.”

Fiona paled, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and frowned.

Riordan continued. “What is your interest in the resort being built out by the lake?”

She shrugged. “I know the family corporation made an investment in it. That’s all.”

“How much does the family stand to lose if it doesn’t get built?”

She shrugged. “Blake handles the investments. Ask him.”

Riordan watched the woman’s gaze sliding toward her drink and wondered what he might learn if he kept her waiting long enough.

“What did you think of Leigh’s decision to marry against the wishes of the family?”

“We all thought she was mad. Why would anyone give up all this to go live in poverty?”

“But they aren’t poor,” Riordan said. “In fact, just the opposite. The family thrived, and they’re all quite successful.”

Fiona shrugged. “Whatever spell Stanton held over her is certainly over now, isn’t it?”

“Were you envious of her?” Riordan asked.

Fiona gasped. “No! Why would I be?”

“Your comments are less than kind toward a sibling who’s just been widowed.”

“I’m a widow, too, and no one is fussing over me,” she snapped.

“Did someone in your family murder your husband?”

“Of course not!”

“Then you cannot compare your situation to hers. I think I’ve heard enough for the time being. You may leave now,” he said.

Fiona stood abruptly, grabbed her drink and strode out.

“Wow,” Griffin said.

Riordan grimaced.

“They are a coldhearted bunch,” he said, and then sent Griffin back for the other sister, leaving Charles for last.

Back in the library, Charles watched his Aunt Nita leaving and then glanced at the officer standing at the door. They’d all heard the two officers going through the house looking for weapons. It made him uneasy, thinking about strangers touching their things. He wondered what was going on and kept trying to think if there was anything in his room that might make him look bad. He hated that he was going to be last. He didn’t know how to read that. Was it because he was the youngest and had no personal ties to his aunt or her family, or because of something else? He supposed he would soon find out.

Meanwhile, Nita followed Officer Griffin into the game room, almost burst into tears when she was fingerprinted, then again as she took a seat, looking everywhere but at the constable.

He frowned. She was the first one who’d come in behaving as if she had something to hide. He moved her quickly through the first part of the interrogation and then started on the specifics.

“Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?”

“I suppose, but I haven’t in years.”

“There’s one registered to the family corporation. Where is it kept?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she muttered.

Riordan quickly changed the subject.

“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. However, I haven’t fired a weapon in several years.”

Riordan glanced down at his notes, then back up at her. There were tiny beads of sweat on her upper lip.

“There are several guns registered to this family. Where are they kept?” he asked.

“Not in this house. Mother never allowed it,” she said, verifying what Blake said and the same answer he’d gotten from all of them.

“Then where are they?”

She shrugged.

“I really don’t know. I don’t live here year-round. Fiona and I both have apartments in New York City, so we don’t keep up with the family stuff like we used to.”

“Where were you on the morning of the murder?”

“Fee and I had been shopping, and then we were in the day spa on Fifth Street. We were going to lunch when Leigh and her sons drove into town. It was the first time I’d seen her since she left home.”

“Really? Not even at the supermarket?”

Nita smirked. “We have people who do all that,” she said. “So, can I go now? Any number of people in Eden can verify my alibi.”

“If you’re that comfortable hiring everything done in your life, who did you hire to kill Stanton Youngblood?”

Nita gasped, choked and then began coughing.

He waited for her answer.

“How dare you insinuate I would do such a-”

“I didn’t insinuate anything. I asked a question. The murdered man already named the family. As far as I’m concerned, none of you are innocent. You could all be in this together, thinking if no single person is named, you’ll all be in the clear. But you’re wrong. Abetting is against the law. Collusion is against the law. Whatever you know and aren’t telling will send you to prison right along with the person who shot Stanton Youngblood in the back.”

“But I didn’t. I don’t…”

“Then where are the family weapons kept?”

She was beginning to shake.

“Last I knew, they were at the lake house.”

Riordan grunted. It seemed he was going to need another search warrant. This was the first any of them had mentioned the lake house.

“And what is the address of this lake house?”

“It’s on Pine Road, about two miles past the crossroad of Pine Road and Boone’s Way.”

“Does anyone live there?”

She shook her head.

“No. It’s just part of the family holdings. We used to host parties there when my father was still alive. Uncle Jack doesn’t like it. I haven’t been there in years.”

“I think that will be all for now. You may leave.”

“When can I have my phone back?” Nita asked.

“When we’re gone and not before.”

She left in haste, anxious to be gone before she dissolved into tears. She hadn’t expected the intensity of the questioning, and it scared her.

Riordan glanced at Griffin.

“Call the office and tell Joyce to get a search warrant for that lake house. She can research the address and the other particulars the judge will need.”

“Yes, sir,” Griffin said.

“Go get Charles before you call. Thank God he’s the last member of this damn family.”

“There’s actually one more, but she’s the victim’s wife,” Griffin reminded him, and left the room.

Riordan knew that, and he wasn’t looking forward to the visit. Moments later, Charles Wayne came in unescorted.

“We’ll be waiting for Officer Griffin to fingerprint you,” Riordan said.

Charles sat and then folded his hands in his lap. When he noticed they were videoing the interviews, he wondered how his family had fared. Aunt Fee was close to drunk. Uncle Justin had become, ever since this all began, a raging bull, and Aunt Nita was an airhead. The only two people in the family with common sense were his father and Uncle Jack. And him, of course, but he wasn’t afraid to answer any questions, because he had nothing to hide regarding the murder of a man he’d never heard of, who’d been married to a woman he’d never met.

Riordan pretended to be checking his texts while surreptitiously eyeing the youngest Wayne. He looked nothing like the others, and Riordan wondered what his status was within the family. Did he actually participate in the family business, or was he just coasting through life on the family name and money?

At that moment Griffin entered and gave Riordan a slight nod to let him know the search warrant for the lake house was in the works.

“This way, please,” Griffin said to Charles, then fingerprinted him.

As soon as Charles sat down again, Griffin adjusted the camera, then nodded.

“Ready when you are, sir,” Griffin said.

“Then let’s do it,” Riordan said. “Mr. Wayne, please, state your name, your place in the family and how long you’ve lived in Eden.”

Charles was calm, and stayed calm as the questioning went on. The tone of his voice was polite and properly respectful of an officer of the law. He answered with, a “no, sir” or a “yes, sir” and was more forthcoming than he had to be.

“Does your family own any weapons?” Riordan asked.

Charles nodded. “Yes, sir, but I’m not sure how many or exactly what kinds.”

“Do you know where they’re kept?”

“I know some of them are at the lake house, but I don’t know if that’s all of them.”

Riordan paused. If the family never gathered there anymore, and if this kid had been away at college all those years, what did the lake house represent to him?

“I’ve been told your family doesn’t use the lake house anymore,” he said.

Charles shrugged.

“I don’t think that’s entirely true. I think Dad let some of the resort people stay there once or twice, and I believe someone in the family had a New Year’s Eve party there my senior year of college. I remember wishing I was here to attend, because I was finally of legal age to drink.”

Riordan began tapping his pen against his notebook.

“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

“Oh, yes, sir. I’m actually quite a good shot, although I confess the only thing I’ve shot at are clay pigeons.”

“Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?”

“Sure do. I had one when I was away at boarding school in DC. It was a lot easier to get around all the traffic and find a place to park, although I did use my car during inclement weather.”

“Do you ride here?”

Charles shook his head.

“No, I sold the bike after I graduated college, before I came home.”

“What about the motorcycle here?”

Charles frowned. “I didn’t know there was one until you mentioned it this morning.”

“There’s one registered to the family corporation,” Riordan said.

Charles shrugged.

“I’ll have to ask Dad. I might like to ride here, too. The mountains around Eden are beautiful this time of year, don’t you think?”

Riordan thought of the families who’d been displaced by the resort. He doubted there was much of anything beautiful about their lives right now. He glanced up. “How often do you go out to the lake house?”

Charles’s gaze shifted momentarily, as if he hadn’t seen that question coming, and Riordan knew immediately there was something he wasn’t telling.

And then Charles grinned.

“As often as I can get a girl to go out there with me,” he said.

Riordan’s expectations took a nosedive. So the kid used it for a place to hook up. That wasn’t what he was looking for.

“Does the family know?” Riordan asked.

Charles rolled his eyes.

“Lord, I hope not, and I would consider it a huge favor if you didn’t mention it. It’s hard enough living under this roof without anyone even close to my age. If my social activities away from home were curtailed, it would make my life so much less interesting.”

“But you have five cousins somewhat close to your age.”

Charles frowned.

“No, sir, I’m the only-” And then he stopped. “Ah…sorry, I didn’t get what you meant. However, I didn’t even know they existed until three days ago, so…”

Riordan closed his notebook and signaled for Griffin to turn off the video.

“That’s all. You may go,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Charles said, and left the room.

Griffin began packing up his video equipment. “At least one of them is normal,” he said.

Riordan frowned. “Seemingly,” he drawled.

Within a few minutes they were gone.

The family came scrambling out of their rooms, heading toward the library.

Justin was finally dressed, Fiona was carrying a cup of coffee and Blake seemed preoccupied. They headed for the desk to get their phones, but Jack got there ahead of them and pulled them all toward him in a pile.

“Not yet,” he said. “I want to know what he asked you and what you said.”

“Oh, hell, no!” Justin said, and grabbed his phone and put it in his pocket. “It’s bad enough we had to put up with the goddamned cops. I’m not putting up with crap from you, too…sir.”

Jack knew he’d only added that so he could claim he wasn’t being disrespectful, even though he was. The others knew that, too, and one by one they followed suit, taking their phones and leaving Jack Wayne on his own.

Jack swiveled his chair around and glared at his brother’s portrait hanging on the wall above him.

“They’re just like you, so don’t blame me if we all go down in flames.”

Then he dropped his phone in his pocket and went to work.