Family Sins

Fifteen

The ambulance sped through Eden with its lights flashing and siren screaming, putting everyone who saw it on alert and feeding the gossip mill’s curiosity to find out who was inside.

That information began to spread quickly after they wheeled Talia Champion into the ER and began to assess her injuries. The EMTs were explaining her condition, where they’d found her, and what her stats had been when they’d loaded her for transport up on the mountain.

Someone overheard “car wreck.”

Someone else overheard “off the side of the mountain,” and by the time Bowie got to the hospital the news was spreading throughout Eden.

When he asked where she had been taken, he was directed through a set of double doors to room A3. There were people all around her when he walked in. She had an IV, which they’d probably started in the ambulance, and a heart monitor and a blood pressure machine were hooked up to her fragile body. What he saw was enough to make him sick.

This had happened to her because of him.

“How is she?” Bowie asked.

The doctor paused and looked up. “Are you Bowie?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She was asking for you.”

Bowie frowned. Damn it. I should have come straight from the mountain, even with the blood and dirt. “I got here as fast as I could. Is she going to be okay?”

“She has two broken ribs, a concussion, and I’m putting staples in the cut on her head. Her knees have serious contusions, and she had a dislocated shoulder, but it’s already back in place.”

Bowie winced with every injury the doctor mentioned. He wanted to break Justin Wayne’s damn neck.

“Is she going to need surgery?”

“X-rays didn’t indicate the need at this point. It’s a miracle, considering what happened to her.”

“I know. My brother and I were the ones who pulled her out of the wreck.”

The doctor looked shocked. “You went down the side of a mountain?”

“I love her, so, yes, I-we-did that. You are admitting her, right?” Bowie asked.

“Yes. They’re getting a room ready for her now.”

“Am I allowed to stay with her?” Bowie asked.

“Yes. One more staple and we’ll move you both upstairs.”

While Bowie was waiting for Talia to be taken to her room, Chief Clayton was beginning his investigation in her neighborhood. He took the east side of the block. His deputy took the west.

It was nearing four in the afternoon. The sun was hot, and the breeze was pretty much nonexistent. The beauty in this part of Eden came from the old growth elms and oaks lining both sides of the streets and the welcome shade they provided. He parked against the curb in the shade of a majestic elm and headed for the first house. A couple of sharp knocks at the door made a small dog inside begin yapping.

He frowned. A damn ankle-biter. Man, he did not like those little yapping dogs.

As soon as the door opened he recognized John Bailey, a fifty-something man who owned a local auto parts store.

“Mr. Bailey, I wonder if I might have a few words with you?”

“Well, sure, Chief. What can I do for you?” John asked.

“By any chance were you home this morning?”

“No, sorry. I didn’t get home until a few minutes ago, but Patsy was here.”

“May I speak to her?”

“Sure, I’ll go get her,” John said, and a few moments later his wife, Patsy, came to the door, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she approached. She stepped out onto the porch to talk.

“I’m here. What’s up?” she asked as John came out with her.

“By any chance did you notice someone loitering in the neighborhood this morning? Specifically, around the Champion property?”

Patsy thought back.

“No, I can’t say that I did, but I wasn’t here all morning. I went to Marshall Champion’s funeral. It was graveside only, so I was out at the cemetery for about an hour, and then I went straight from there to the supermarket before I came home. Why do you ask?”

“Just checking some facts.”

“Is Talia okay? I mean, I did notice her car is gone. It was there this morning, along with a pickup truck.”

“She had an accident but I don’t have any information on her status.”

“Oh, no! Bless her heart. She just buried her daddy today, and now this happened to her? Sometimes life can be so unfair!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clayton said. “Thank you for your help, and sorry to have bothered you.”

“No bother,” Patsy said.

Chief Clayton walked down the shade-covered sidewalk to the next house, but no one was home.

He walked to the third house, a small red brick with a white picket fence, and as he rang the doorbell, he noticed a big black-and-white cat inside the house, sitting on the windowsill to the right of the door. The cat blinked big yellow eyes and proceeded to stare him down.

Clayton was frowning at the cat when the door finally opened. He recognized a retired teacher named Edith Fairview, who looked a bit startled when she saw him.

“Chief Clayton?”

“Yes, ma’am. I wonder if I might have a word with you?”

Just like Patsy Bailey, Mrs. Fairview had been at the funeral service, and when she came home, she’d lain down and taken a nap. Another dead end.

He bypassed the next house because it was Talia Champion’s and headed for the one beyond. As he was walking, he saw Deputy Wells leaving one residence on his way to the next. When he saw Chief Clayton, he shook his head no to indicate he’d found no leads as of yet.

Clayton interviewed a retiree named Mr. Burns, who had also been at the funeral. After learning why the chief was there, Burns informed him that the people who lived in the next two houses down worked at the hospital and wouldn’t be home until after dark.

The last house on his side of the block belonged to a woman named Mayrene Potter. She didn’t have anything helpful to say but did offer him cookies. He was walking back up the street to his cruiser when he heard Deputy Wells shout out his name. He looked up, and Wells waved him over.

He stepped off the curb and then winced at a sharp pain in his foot. That damn ingrown toenail was still giving him fits. He was going to have to take time and go to the doctor before he got some vile infection and lost his damn toe.

“What’s up?” he asked, as Wells came running to meet him.

“Chief! You have to come see this.”

“See what? Do we have a witness or not?”

“We have security footage from the house directly across the street from Miss Champion’s.”

“What’s the resident’s name?” Clayton asked.

“Silas Ballard.”

Clayton frowned.

“Isn’t he the man who keeps reporting someone stealing roses from his prize bushes?”

“Yes. So he set up a security camera to catch his rose thief and caught what looks like someone vandalizing vehicles at the Champion residence, instead.”

“Do we have an ID?”

The deputy rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying the name aloud. You come look for yourself.”

Clayton’s gut knotted. “Fine, just lead the way.”

Silas Ballard was standing in the doorway waiting for them to come in.

“Afternoon, Mr. Ballard,” Clayton said.

“Afternoon, Chief.”

“So, where’s this security footage?” Clayton asked.

“Follow me,” the old man said, and led the way through the house to a small room off the utility room. “This used to be the wife’s sewing room, but since her passing it’s just a catch-all. I set up my security camera out front a few days ago. You can see today’s footage here. I got it ready for you,” he said.

Clayton sat down in the old office chair in front of the viewing screen and leaned forward as the footage began to play.

Within moments a black car appeared, driving slowly through the neighborhood.

Clayton saw the Champion house in the background, and he saw a pickup parked behind Talia Champion’s car in the carport. He watched as the dark car drove out of camera range.

“Keep watching,” the deputy said. “He’s coming back.”

And sure enough, there it was again, only this time it stopped right behind the pickup. Unable to get a good view of the license plate, they were focused on the unfolding scene. Within seconds a man jumped out, and even though he was a bit out of focus because of the distance and the quality of the camera, his identity was immediately visible.

“Oh, sweet hell. It’s Justin Wayne, just as his sister predicted,” Clayton muttered.

The three of them continued to watch as Justin popped the hood, then ducked down behind it. A couple of minutes later he shut the hood and moved to the truck. They watched as he unsuccessfully attempted to open the pickup doors, then actually lay down and scooted himself beneath the engine. At that point Clayton’s ears began to roar.

This is my worst fucking nightmare.

“Mr. Ballard, I’m going to need to take this into evidence. Can you get the disc for me, please?”

“Sure thing. Won’t take but a minute,” Silas said.

Clayton sent the deputy across the street to his car to get an evidence bag, and then proceeded to bag, sign and date the disc before leaving the premises.

He and his deputy paused on the street.

“Good job, Wells. Head on back to the office, write up your report and enter this into evidence. Whatever you do, don’t talk about this, understand?”

Wells was a bit wild-eyed and nervous just talking about it with his boss.

“Yes, sir, I sure do. Mum’s the word,” he said, then took the evidence bag and headed to his cruiser as Clayton pulled out his phone and called Constable Riordan. His ingrown toenail wasn’t going to catch a break tonight.

Riordan answered quickly. “Chief! Do you have any news for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do we have a witness?”

“We have something better,” Clayton said. “We have security camera footage showing Justin Wayne in the act of vandalizing both vehicles.”

“You’re not serious?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I am. I took the footage into evidence. My deputy is on his way back to the precinct to log it in. So how do you want to handle this? You worked the wreck, so technically this belongs to your case, not to mention it’s connected to the murder case you’re still working. Am I right?”

“Yes, but I want you there when I arrest him, because you discovered the evidence. I want the Waynes to know they’re not above the law anywhere-especially not in the town they think they own.”

Clayton sighed. “Yes, sir. When do you want to do this?”

“As soon as I can get an arrest warrant. Your day’s not over yet. I’ll let you know when I head your way. In the meantime, no talking about this, okay? And say nothing about this to Leigh Youngblood. I want Justin Wayne behind bars before she finds out her suspicions were true.”

“I already issued the no-talking order to my deputy, so you have no worries there.”

Clayton ended the call and headed back to the office. He could at least get off his feet for a bit before the arrest.

As soon as Bowie left the house, Leigh sat Jesse down at the kitchen table and fed him the lunch he’d missed.

While he was having a bowl of stew and corn bread, Leigh walked all the way back to Stanton’s office. She hadn’t been in there since before he was murdered and guessed there would be emails galore from clients. But first things, first. She sat down at the desk, then booted up the computer and retrieved the contact information for William Frazier. He was one of their clients, but he was also a rather well-known journalist out of Chicago. She gave him a call, then sat back with her eyes closed, listening to the phone ring. Just when she thought it was going to go to voice mail, he picked up.

“Hello!” he answered, sounding out of breath.

Leigh took a deep breath herself.

“Hello, Mr. Frazier, this is Leigh Youngblood.”

“Oh, hello, Leigh. What’s up?”

“I have something that I believe you would call a scoop.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, deadly serious. Feel free to record this if you want, or if you’re going to take notes, I’ll speak slowly.”

“Oh my God…you are serious! Give me a second to get this recorder going and…uh…okay. It’s on now. You may begin.”

“My husband, Stanton Youngblood, was murdered. Before he died, he wrote the last name of his killer in the dirt.”

And then she proceeded to give him the whole ugly story. By the time she was finished she was sick to her stomach. The only good thing about reliving the horror was knowing it was going to destroy the Waynes.

Frazier was stunned at the scope of what she’d told him. Through all the years he’d been the Youngbloods’ client, he had never known the connection between Leigh and the Waynes. Although Wayne Industries was a private, closely held company, they had other holdings and had diversified off and on throughout the years. But the other investors in the resort were public and listed on the New York Stock Exchange. Their shareholders, as well as government regulators, wouldn’t be happy about their involvement in the Wayne family’s problems.The ugliness of this story and the Waynes’ manipulation of the banking industry, causing poor people to lose their ancestral homes, wouldn’t play well in the press. As for East Coast Lending, which was owned by Wayne Industries and had cleared the way for them to buy up the land for a resort, this was enough to ruin both them and the Wayne family, and send people to jail for more than murder. He had a lot of investigating to do before he could break the story, but he sensed the need for haste.

“Thank you for this. I have a lot of calls to make for verification. If I can get what I need, I will run with it. I thought a lot of Stanton. I’m so sorry about what happened.”

Leigh’s eyes welled.

“Thank you,” she said, and as soon as their connection ended, she laid her head down on the desk and cried.

It was a few minutes after four when Andrew arrived at the mansion. He had a date with Nita, which would involve a couple of hours upstairs complying with her endless need for sex and whatever sex toys she wanted to play with, then dinner with the family, after which he was meeting Charles at the lake house for dessert. It wasn’t the first time he’d involved himself with more than one member of a family, but it was tricky.

He rang the doorbell and winked at Frances when she let him in. Nita met him at the foot of the staircase wearing white skinny jeans and a loose red blouse with a deep V in both the front and the back. She gave him a very brief kiss, and then led him to the library and the pitcher of margaritas she had waiting.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Nita said. “This whole murder thing is getting tiresome. Everyone is mad at everyone else. Even Fee is behaving strangely. If we hadn’t been instructed not to leave Eden I would already be back in New York City.”

She pouted as she poured him a drink and scooted it across the wet bar.

“Thank you, my darling,” Andrew said, then ran a fingertip from her chin to the vee between her breasts. “Did I tell you how much I love this blouse?”

She giggled as he took a sip from the salt-rimmed glass and then lifted his drink to her.

“This tastes marvelous. Kudos, my darling.”

Nita smiled. “Nothing is too good for you, because you are so good to me,” she said.

“Shall we take our drinks upstairs?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

He grabbed the pitcher in one hand and his drink in the other, and followed her out of the room.

The killer sat at his desk, his fingers on the keyboard, his gaze fixed on the computer screen before him. It hadn’t been quite a week since the murder on the mountain, and in that short period of time their world had imploded.

If he was honest with himself, he would admit that killing Stanton Youngblood had been the single worst mistake of his life. Looking back, it had all been so random.

The sky was cloudless, the breeze just enough to cool the sweat. He’d been concerned about the investors, after hearing nothing from them for days, so he’d come out to the job site to find it completely devoid of people and equipment.

And then his phone rang.

With an uneasy feeling, he answered. “Hello.”

“Hello, Bryant Booker here. I need to give you a heads-up on the lake resort. The board has decided that since we will not be able to acquire the two key pieces of real estate we needed to follow through, we’re putting the project on hold. We’ll do a flyover in the area to search for another location, but right now it’s a no-go. I’m sure you understand.”

The uneasy feeling he’d had turned to panic.

“What about the land that was our part of the investment?” he’d asked.

“Oh, that will just revert back to Wayne Industries. You haven’t lost a thing.”

Even after the call had ended, he thought he’d taken the news rather well, considering the shock running through him. This explained why the site was vacant. What pissed him off the most was that they were the last ones to find out. Even lowly workers had been told the job was scrapped before Booker notified Wayne Industries. Furious, he picked up a rock and threw it as far across the water as it would go. He was looking around for another one to throw when he caught movement from the corner of his eye.

Looking back, if the workers had still been there, he would never have seen Stanton Youngblood leaving his sister’s house, but he was alone and saw him walking confidently, that long hair swaying as he strode along the edge of the forest. In that moment he hated Youngblood all over again. When Stanton’s route took a sharp turn uphill, he guessed he was heading home to Leigh. She was part of this-part of the reason everything was over. He thought of the vast amount of man hours they’d put into accumulating the land for the resort. All the money they’d spent. Money he’d taken from other investments because he’d been sure it would be repaid. Money he’d taken without board approval. From offshore bank accounts. From the company. All to acquire land that was now useless.

He hadn’t looked at it as embezzling, because he was part of the family and he was taking it on behalf of the family, not to mention he fully intended to put it all back with interest. And now he was in big trouble, all because of that man disappearing through the trees.

Without thinking what he was going to do when he caught him, he ran for his car and drove to the lake house for one of the hunting rifles. Then he looked up at the trail behind the house, afraid he might never find where Youngblood had gone. Then he remembered the motorcycle and raced toward the garage.

Within minutes he was on his way.

“Sir, there’s a call for you on line four.”

The killer blinked, startled that his secretary was standing in the doorway and that he was at the office, then remembered the Sunday conference call and nodded his thanks, glancing at the clock before picking up the line.

Bowie couldn’t sit still.

Talia had yet to wake up again, and he needed to hear her voice and know she was going to be okay.

He’d called home earlier and relayed all the information he had on her condition, but his mother had seemed out of it, as if bothered by something else. He’d asked her if everything was okay and if Jesse was causing problems, but she had reassured him all was well, so he’d chalked it all up to this being a bad day for everyone and let it go.

Aidan had stopped by Talia’s hospital room not long after her arrival. He was upset for Bowie, sorry for Talia, and bothered that his baby boy now had three stitches in his lip. After eliciting a promise from Bowie to call if her condition changed, he’d hurried back down to the lobby, where Leslie and Johnny were waiting, and took his family home.

When Samuel came home and found out what had happened in his absence, he’d called Bowie to check on Talia’s welfare. Within minutes of his call, Michael had called, too, upset that no one had let him know what was going on. After a quick explanation, Bowie had settled back into the chair by Talia’s bedside and closed his eyes.

His heart hurt for her in a way he couldn’t explain. The last seven years had been so hard for her, and just as the suffering was coming to an end he showed back up in her life wanting so desperately to be the good guy she needed, and instead this was what he’d brought to her.

The door to her room opened, and he refocused his thoughts.

It was a nurse coming to check Talia’s IV. “Any activity?” she asked, as she adjusted the flow of the drip.

“No, ma’am,” Bowie said.

She made a note, but when she’d finished what she’d come to do, she hesitated to leave.

“I’m Amber Stewart. I live at the end of Talia’s block. I guess you don’t remember me. I was in the class behind you and Talia in high school.”

Bowie stood up. “Amber Hatfield?”

She smiled, pleased he had remembered.

“Yes, I was a Hatfield. I just wanted to say that I remember how close you two were back then, and while it’s none of my business, I want you to know I’m so happy you’re back in her life. She sacrificed everything for her father. She deserves to be loved.”

“And I’m going to spend the rest of my life on that project,” he said.

She grinned. “When you see Samuel and Bella, tell them Amber said hello. Bella is my first cousin. Her mother and my mother are sisters.”

Bowie reached across the bed and shook her hand.

“Well, then, in mountain terms, it appears we’re family. Nice to see you again, and I’ll pass your message along to Samuel and Bella for sure.”

She smiled and then was out the door.

Bowie looked down, taking comfort in the faint blush of pink beneath Talia’s skin, and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“That nurse is Amber Hatfield. She was a year behind us in school. She’s taking good care of you, baby. She’s helping you heal so you can wake up for me.”

Then his voice broke. He looked up at the monitors registering the strength of her life force. The readouts on the machines were nothing but numbers. But they were talking to him when she could not.

My heart still beats. I’m still here, they were saying.

He leaned over the bed to kiss her forehead, leaving his tears on her face. When he reached down to wipe them away, her eyelids fluttered.

His pulse leaped.

“Talia? I’m here, baby. It’s me, Bowie. I’m here.”

Her lips parted ever so briefly as he heard her exhale.

When he reached for her hand, her fingers curled, holding him fast.

“She’s coming back. She’s coming back. Thank you, God,” Bowie whispered.