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.”
Henry blustered, “But that was so long ago, surely you don’t—”
“You doubt the last word of a dying man?” Leigh demanded. “No matter. We didn’t expect anything more of you than this. You are bought and paid for by the Waynes just like half the people in this town. So I’m giving fair warning to you and to them. I will find out which one of them killed my husband, and when I do, they will pay.”
Then Leigh turned around and walked between her sons to face the crowd.
“Yes, look at me. Look long and hard, all of you. As for my so-called family, if any of you are hiding in the crowd, you best take a look, too, because this is what the devil looks like when he’s on your heels. When I find which one of you did this, you will wish you’d never been born. There isn’t enough money between you and God to buy your way out of this.”
Michael walked up to flank his mother on her left. Samuel and Aidan stepped into place on her right, and then Samuel slid an arm across her shoulders and raised his voice.
“The back-shooting coward and the family who harbors him best remember, you won’t catch us unarmed again.”
Leigh lifted her chin as she stared at the crowd. She stared them down until they began looking away.
“I think we’re done here,” Leigh said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Samuel said, and slipped a hand beneath her arm, then escorted her to the Jeep and seated her inside.
Samuel led the way out of town with his brothers behind him. He didn’t speak until they were all the way out of town. He looked at his mother. Her jaw was set. Her eyes were clear, and her gaze was fixed on the road in front of them.
“Mama.”
She answered absently without shifting her gaze. “What?”
“I am very proud to be your son.”
Leigh nodded, squeezed his arm and then took a deep shuddering breath.
He caught movement from the corner of his eye and quickly shifted his gaze. Her feet were on the dash, her elbows resting on her knees. She took another breath, covered her face with her hands and moaned.
Breath caught in the back of Samuel’s throat as her shoulders began to shake and she started to cry—harsh, ugly sobs ripped from the depths of her soul.
“Oh my God, oh my God, Stanton Lee, how am I going to live without you?”
Samuel didn’t talk, and he didn’t touch her. This grief was for her alone.
By a twist of fate, Leigh’s sisters had been in the crowd. Nita Garner and Fiona Tuttle were older than her and rarely gave her a thought anymore, but that was obviously about to change.
Since Nita was divorced and Fiona widowed, they alternated their residences between the family estate in Eden and their apartments in New York City. They had been in Eden for nearly two months and, to pass the time, were redecorating parts of the mansion. On a whim, they had taken the day off for their own mini-makeovers and were just coming out of the local day spa on their way to have lunch when they’d been alerted by the honking.
“What on earth?” Fiona muttered, as she stopped and turned around.
Nita pointed at the woman in the passenger seat of the front vehicle racing up the street.
“Oh my God! Is that Leigh?”
Fiona gasped. “Yes, I believe it is.”
They stopped to stare, and when they saw the two vehicles stopping in the street in front of the police station, they stayed to watch.
They hadn’t seen their sister up close in years and were horrified by the condition of her hair and clothing, but when they saw the men getting out with her and realized they were her sons, they were stunned. They would not have known their own nephews if they’d passed them on the street.
They
