“And gotten yourself shot.”

“There is that aspect. How about we go porch sitting?”

“I won’t say no to that either. You do make damn good coffee, Zane, hot or cold.”

“The law thing doesn’t work out, I could try a career as a barista.”

They went back out, sat. Zane picked up the baseball he’d brought out with him, rubbed the seams. “I hear the Drapers are having Clint’s funeral tomorrow.”

“Dexter’s Funeral Home. None of the Drapers are churchgoers, so that simplifies that. And they’re burying him in their family plot.”

“That’s still legal, under some basic guidelines, in this state.”

“It is, and in this case, simplifies things again. I’ve talked to everybody I know had a hard-on for Clint, or the Drapers in general.”

“You get overtime for that?”

Lee let out a huffing laugh, drank some coffee. “I can tell you it took a hell of a lot longer than talking to those who ran with him. But in both cases, it’s not falling in line. Turns out that Clint had some hard words with Richie Fields a couple weeks back, and Fields is the type who could bash a skull in. Thought maybe I had a line there, but at the time in question he was a guest of the county facilities after getting pulled over outside of Hickory for speeding, reckless driving, and DUI—which he added to by taking a couple swings at the county mounty.”

“Well, you don’t get a more solid alibi than that.”

“You don’t,” Lee agreed, and drank more coffee, looked out at the hills. “With your work in Raleigh, you’d have gotten some threats.”

“Goes with the job, Lee, just like it goes with yours.”

“It does. I need you to start thinking if you got any credible, any that would’ve brought somebody here looking to cause you trouble.”

“I have been thinking about it.” Zane studied the ball, ran his thumb over the seams. “There might be a few.”

“I’ll want those names, son.”

“Yeah.” Zane turned the ball around and around in his hand. “I’ve been thinking about taking a trip to Raleigh, having a conversation with Graham.”

“We’re on the same page there, too. I’ve already had one with the warden. Graham’s had a few cellmates in his time, connected with others. Some are back out in the world. We need to tug that line, too.”

“The truth, Lee, while it doesn’t feel like something he’d think of—he likes to be the one causing the pain—if it is his doing, I’m more worried about Darby. He’d never get over being put down by a woman.”

“How about I make the arrangements, and we go talk to him together.”

“I’m good with that. You let me know, and I’ll work my schedule around it.”

“I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, are you really going to represent that idiot Cal Muldoon for popping Larry Easterday after he and Easterday got into that fender bender?”

“What can I say, Chief? Everybody’s entitled to a defense.”

“Lawyers.” Lee let out a sigh. “This is damn good coffee.”

“More where that came from.”

Lee shook his head, set down his empty glass. “I gotta get on. You know,” he added as he stood, “your building in town’s looking pretty good. The mayor gave me some chatter about how maybe we should encourage other property owners along Main to think color.”

“Always look for the upside.”

Lee’s eyebrows disappeared under the brim of his cap.

“Darby.” Zane grinned, shrugged. “I’m trying to latch on.”

“Good luck with that. I’ll be in touch.”

“Love to Emily.”

“Always.”

Zane sat, rubbed the baseball.

He’d send Lee the names from those credible threats, the data on them, but … Those weren’t so worrying in his opinion. He had more concern about the ones he’d helped put away who hadn’t made threats. Who’d been smart enough, careful enough not to make them while they bided their time inside imagining payback.

If Lee felt he’d eliminated anyone local, it was time to take a harder look back, time to dig through some case files.

He went inside, switched tablet for laptop. He had enough data on it to get started on what would be a long process.

He hoped Darby would be another hour or so, and not just because she’d promised (threatened) to give him a garden maintenance lesson on her return. He wanted to make some progress, eliminate or list possibles before she got back.

He didn’t want to cloud their weekend with … undercurrents, he decided.

About twenty minutes in, he heard someone coming up the road, automatically saved his work, closed the file. And as cover brought back up one of the car dealerships he’d scanned before.

But it wasn’t a truck, wasn’t Darby.

Instinct had him taking a fielder’s grip on the ball as the beige compact stopped beside his convertible.

He didn’t recognize the man who got out, not at first, but saw tall, well-built, neatly dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, close-cropped brown hair, square jaw, probably late thirties.

Then the visitor removed aviator sunglasses, started forward.

Military, Zane thought, from the posture, the stride.

“Zane Bigelow—sorry,” he corrected. “Walker.”

“That’s right.” Putting it together, Zane got to his feet. “It’s Bo Draper, isn’t it? Sergeant Major Draper now.”

“It is. I’m sorry to come to your home uninvited, but I hope to have a word with you.”

“Come on up. Want some iced coffee?”

“I … That’s very kind of you, but I’m fine. This is quite a place. New since I’ve been around Lakeview.”

“About eight years old. You’ve been gone awhile.”

“Just over twenty years now. I enlisted at eighteen. I haven’t been back since, but…”

“It’s hard to lose a brother.”

“Even one you can’t claim to know. I guess he was eight or nine when I left.”

“Have a seat, Sergeant Major.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated. “I won’t keep you long.” He glanced at the baseball Zane still held. “I watched a few of your games well back in the day. Do you still play?”

“Not really.” Zane set the ball down.

“That’s a shame. Mr. Walker—”

“Zane.”

“Zane, I’ve heard what my family has to say. I’ve heard what the police chief has to say. I’m not able to talk to Clint’s widow, as she’s … away. I’m leaving right after the funeral, but before I do, I’d like to hear what you have to say.”

“Your brother’s widow is a client. I can only tell you that she’s in a safe place. It was necessary for her to seek a safe place as, by her account, which is credible, your brother physically assaulted her. Not just on the night of July third, but routinely. She came to me for help. I got her help.”

“She’d be Allie Abbott’s younger sister? I knew Allie a little when I lived here.”

“That’s right.”

“My family claims Clint never laid a hand on her, then I hear them say he never laid a hand on her that she didn’t deserve.” Bo’s jaw tightened. “I’m a married man, and I have two daughters. I wouldn’t take kindly to anyone who laid a violent hand on them. I’m not my brothers. I’m not my parents.”

“I’m not my parents either.”

Bo nodded. “I heard some about that. My family’s saying you and Clint’s widow were having an affair.”

“I met Traci twice since I got back to Lakeview. Once when Clint brought her with him to my office hoping to file a frivolous and, frankly, vindictive suit against his neighbors.”

“The McConnells?”

“That’s right. He wasn’t pleased when I refused to take his case. I met her again when I went to their place because I saw the signs of abuse. She wouldn’t talk to me, but I left my card. I’m involved with someone, seriously involved. Traci’s my client, nothing more.”

“The woman you’re involved with—Darby McCray—she’d be the one who was here that night?”

“That’s right.”

“Clint defaced her property as well as your office. And the windows upstairs—doors,” he corrected, “the ones that are boarded up. He shot them out.”

“Evidence would indicate he did all of that. I don’t know who killed your brother, Sergeant Major, whether it was friend or foe, a deliberate act or an accidental one. I do know it happened on my land, right over there, while the woman I love woke to have bullets from Clint’s rifle hitting the wall three feet above her head.”

“He was the runt of the litter, my pappy used to say. And he’d give the kid a smack just for the hell of it. That’s not excusing what he did—and I believe he did all you’re saying. But he was raised up mean.”

“You were raised in the same house.”

“I got out,” Bo said simply. “The marines didn’t just make me, Zane, they saved me. You were raised hard, and it seems to me you made different choices than my three brothers.”

“My family saved me. My sister, my aunt, the man she married, my grandparents.”

“I remember your grandparents,” Bo continued. “They’re good people. I can’t say my family’s good people, but I’m going to stand with them while we bury my baby brother. And I’m going to stand here now, look you in the eye, and apologize for what my brother did.”