“What’s wrong?”
Samuel tried to say the words, and then the crying got the better of him.
Bowie Youngblood couldn’t remember seeing Samuel cry after he’d turned eighteen. Now he was scared.
“Is it Jesse? Did something happen to Jesse?”
“No, it’s Daddy. He’s dead, Bowie. Mama found him shot in the back.”
Bowie’s knees went out from under him. He sank down into a chair inside the office on the drilling platform and then curled his fingers around the arm of the chair.
“What? What did you say?”
Samuel sighed.
“Daddy’s dead. Mama said to call you. Mama said to tell you to come home. She needs you.”
“God in heaven,” Bowie whispered, and felt like he was going to throw up. “How did it happen? You said someone shot him? On purpose?”
“Yes. He scratched a name in the dirt before he died.”
Bowie tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
Samuel kept talking.
“The name was Wayne. I didn’t get the meaning, but Mama did. She’s certain the killer’s someone from her family.”
The shock of that reality transformed Bowie’s sorrow to instant rage. He stood abruptly.
“Why now? That was more than thirty years ago. What the hell’s happened now to start this up again?”
“I don’t know. It just happened a few hours ago. We just got Mama back to the house. She’s telling Jesse now, and I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night here.”
Bowie glanced at the clock. It was just after 3:00 p.m.
“I don’t know how long it will take to get a chopper out here to pick me up, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell Mama I’m on the way. Will one of you come into Eden to pick me up when they drop me off?”
“Yes. I will. I’m so sorry to be calling with such bad news,” Samuel added.
“I’m sorry, too, for all of us,” Bowie said. “I love you, Samuel.”
“Love you, too, bro,” Samuel said.
The call disconnected, and Samuel was still standing there, staring at the phone, when he heard footsteps and looked to see Bella coming toward him. He walked into her arms and came undone.
Bowie came out of the office leading with his chin, and headed for the boss.
“Claude! Claude!” he yelled to be heard over the noise on the drilling rig.
Claude Franklin turned, saw the look on Bowie Youngblood’s face and knew something was wrong. He headed toward him at a trot.
There were tears still on Bowie’s face when he grabbed Claude by the arm.
“I need a chopper, ASAP. My father’s been murdered. There’s going to be hell to pay on the mountain. I need to get home as soon as possible,” he said, then began to explain.
Claude was speechless. In his whole life he’d never known anyone who was murdered, and to hear Bowie naming the other side of his family as the ones responsible was beyond understanding.
“Go pack. I’ll get you a chopper, son. Just get your head on straight.”
Bowie nodded and took off toward their sleeping quarters, the long black braid hanging down his back bouncing with every step.
By the time Bella and Samuel got back into the house, it appeared that Leigh’s momentary weakness had passed in her need to care for her youngest son. She was sitting at Jesse’s bedside, waiting for his meds to kick in as he cried himself to sleep.
The longer she sat, the angrier she became. By the time Jesse fell asleep, she was so mad she was shaking. She went through the house in search of her boys, calling them by name.
They came rushing out of the kitchen, thinking she needed them to tend to Jesse. He was a big strong man and, due to his head injuries, was hard to handle when he got upset, but when they saw she was alone they slowed down.
Leigh put her hands on her hips.
“I’m going to Eden. I want the killer to know before he lays his head on a pillow tonight that his days are numbered. Will you go with me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.
“What about Jesse?” Michael said.
“I gave him one of his pills. He’s sound asleep.”
“Do you want to change clothes or anything?” Samuel asked.
Leigh looked down at the shirt and jeans she’d been wearing in the garden. They had blood all over them. She thought of the scratches on her face and realized she hadn’t even pulled the leaves out of her hair, and then let it go.
“No. I’m not changing anything. I’m not hiding the hideousness of what was done.”
“You can ride with me,” Samuel said.
“Aidan and I will follow you in my SUV,” Michael said.
“Bring your rifles,” Leigh said.
Bella gasped.
Maura and Leslie looked anxious.
“Do you think you’re all in danger?” Bella asked.
“No, not unless we turn our backs,” Leigh snapped, and then grabbed her purse and the keys to her Jeep. “We won’t be long. Jesse isn’t going to wake up, so don’t worry.”
“We’re not afraid of him,” Maura said, and hugged Leigh.
“Be careful. All of you,” Bella said, as she hugged Leigh, too.
Leslie kissed her mother-in-law on the cheek and then squeezed her hand.
“Scare the shit out of them, Mama.”
“I fully intend to,” Leigh said, and went out the front door with her sons behind her.
She tossed the keys to Samuel and then got in the passenger seat as he slid behind the wheel.
Moments later they were gone.
Henry Clayton had been the police chief in Eden for more than fifteen years. He’d just gotten off the phone with Constable Riordan, who’d filled him in on the murder and the name Stanton Youngblood had scratched in the dirt before he died.
Clayton was shocked. He’d gone to school with Stanton and had always thought of him as a friend. He didn’t know what to think, other than that the Wayne family held sway over the town and nearly everyone in it, including him. The constable was in charge of the case, but he would be depending on Clayton for assistance when the investigation got under way. Before Clayton could formulate a plan for himself, he heard the sound of vehicles coming down Main very fast, and when he began to hear constant honking, he frowned.
“What the hell?”
By the time he got out to the street, a crowd of people were gathering to see what was happening.
The two vehicles he’d heard speeding and disturbing the peace were now illegally parked in the middle of the street.
He was all ready to start issuing citations when he realized whose vehicles they were. His pulse kicked into high, and he began to sweat.
It was already beginning.
Leigh Youngblood got out first and stopped just shy of the sidewalk, fixing Henrywith a cold, angry stare. When her sons fell into step and fanned out behind her with fire in their eyes and their rifles cradled in their arms, Henry felt like a cornered rat.
“Mrs. Youngblood, what-”
Leigh raised her arm and pointed straight at him. Henry had to look twice to reassure himself the only thing she was pointing was her finger. He was horrified at how many of the townspeople were gathering behind her. Now he had to be extra careful of what he let her say and do.
“You don’t talk. You just listen.” Leigh’s voice was loud and carrying, but she sounded entirely rational. “My husband was murdered this morning.”
The gasp from the crowd was loud but brief as they quickly silenced themselves to hear what else she had to say.
“Someone shot him in the back. But there’s something the killer doesn’t know. Stanton named his killer before he died. He scratched the name Wayne in the dirt!”
Leigh’s voice was shaking, but her rage remained strong.
“My people! My family! They took the man I loved away from me, just like they swore they would do years ago.”