Family Sins(52)
“Yes, but—”
“Did he do it to your satisfaction?”
Blake shoved a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I guess, but when the investors asked him if we’d be interested in buying into the resort at a different site, he told them he doubted it, but that he’d run it by the family.”
Jack frowned at Justin.
“Why would you give them such a negative impression?”
Justin threw up his hands.
“Oh, hell...I don’t know...maybe because of all the money we pumped into the project in the first place to make sure they could proceed on the first site.”
Blake frowned.
“But you already know we don’t have what we promised them. Keeping an interest in the project is the only way we’ll ever recoup what we’re going to lose when they officially call a halt to their plans here.”
“Exactly how much did we spend accumulating the land they wanted?”
Blake shrugged. “I don’t have the exact figure.”
“I do,” Justin said. “Wayne Industries, through the lending institution we own, is the proud owner of millions of dollars worth of mountain, part of which we bought up without issue, and the other part we got when we bought up the loans from the bank and foreclosed on the owners. An investment in a resort of that quality would have been worth it. But the land we own is no longer suitable because the only place the investors are willing to build the actual resort is about five hundred yards from the Youngbloods’ front door, and the facilities to house horses for trail rides and hold the gift shop selling local artisan crafts was at the back corner of the Cyrus property.”
Jack frowned.
“And if we stay with the consortium and invest in another site, what are your plans for recouping our initial investment?” Jack asked.
Blake was backed into a corner, and he knew it.
“I guess we’d parcel up the land and sell it to people wanting to build homes on it.”
“But we just bought it from people with homes that were torn down. They aren’t going to buy back their own land, and well-to-do tourists aren’t going to build their fine vacation homes on it if the resort and all its amenities are in another state,” Justin said.
Jack sighed. “I never thought I’d say this, but Justin is right.”
Justin glared at his uncle. He wasn’t that much older than them, and yet he was still the boss. And now, even when he was right, the son of a bitch couldn’t give him anything but a backhanded compliment.
Blake was now officially pissed. “So, Uncle Jack, what would you have us do?”
Jack frowned.
“I don’t know, but I do know this witch hunt wouldn’t be happening if whichever one of you shot Youngblood had just finished the job. Back-shooting and then walking away without confirming the kill is sloppy work.”
They both glared at each other, then at Jack, then strode up the stairs side by side without speaking.
Jack headed to the kitchen to find out what Cook was making for dinner, then retired to the library for a stiff drink.
When dinner was finally announced, the argument between the brothers had been put on hold. The meal was served without incident. The conversation was purposefully polite and nonconfrontational. They were halfway through the main course when they heard the doorbell sound in the hall.
Jack glared at Nita. “Did you invite Andrew again?”
“No, we’re going out dancing later, but if I had, I don’t need to get your permission, you know.”
He glanced around the table at the others.
“Are any of you expecting company, because if you are, I want you to know having them arrive at dinnertime is the epitome of rudeness.”
Before they could answer they began hearing the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. All of a sudden Frances came flying into the dining room on the verge of tears.
“I tried to stop them, Mr. Wayne, I swear I did.” Then she moved out of the doorway just as Leigh and her sons walked into the room.
The shock of her appearance was evident in the sudden silence, and before any of them could begin to raise hell, Leigh took the floor.
“I thought since you are all so comfortable with attacking when someone’s back is turned, that it would only be fair if I arrived in the same fashion.”
Blake started to get up, but Bowie stepped forward.
“Sit the hell down,” he said softly.
Blake wasn’t accustomed to threats, but he felt the power of this one in every word.
Leigh touched Bowie’s arm, and he moved aside. She lifted her chin, giving all of them a slow, studied look.
“I vowed never to set foot on this property again, but you made it impossible for me to keep that vow. I’m here now because I want my sons to know the faces of their enemies.”
Jack slapped the flat of his hand on the table in his usual dictatorial manner and started to rise.
“Leigh! This is highly irregular and—”
Leigh moved so fast no one saw her coming. One moment she was standing beside Bowie and the next she had flung a piece of crystal stemware at the wall just above Jack Wayne’s head.
“You heard my son. Sit the hell down! I have something to say to the lot of you, and then I will be gone, but for the time I am here, I don’t want to hear another peep or the next glass I throw will be at your damn face!”