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Tristan and I met at the bottom of the stairs.
"How did she take it?" he asked. Tristan's concern for Vanessa was surprising, but he had softened towards her since the night with Sean Mullen.
"She blames me," I explained.
"That is unfair. I understand how it feels to lose a family member, but you did not kill him. You did everything you could to keep the man alive, including foregoing your vengeance," Tristan explained.
I nodded because I knew the truth, but Vanessa's pain had blinded her. "Someone defied my orders, Tristan, and I need you to find them."
"Are you certain the perpetrators aren't in the dining room?" he inquired.
"I will handle that end. You handleyours. They may have been involved, but they did not hold the knife that killed him. Someone else hadto do it."
Tristan disagreed with my decision, but he followed through as usual.
I entered the dining room and found Luke and Dylan waiting for me.
"You look good, uncle," I said as I sat down at the head of the table.
"Survived the night," he replied, smiling.
I wished I could catch him telling a lie. Luke was a dangerously cunning man, but I hoped to spot him. My heart raged because I had done everything I could to protect my family, Vanessa, and even her uncle. Even so, as I sat with my closest family members, I didn't feel victorious.
"What's up? Why are we here?" Dylan asked.
"Is it anything to do with Fred? I saw you bring him in through the back door earlier. I assumed you needed our advice before deciding what to do with him,"Luke askedbefore I could respond to Dylan.
"Why didn't you attend the family gathering today? You were supposed to accompany me," I asked them directly. I had always trusted my uncle, but their decision not to show up that very morning was too peculiar to ignore.
"I don't appreciate your inquisitorial tone, nephew," he said firmly.
"Why are you questioning my father? Do you think we had anything to do with your attack at the cemetery?" Dylan's voice rose.
"Dylan, stop," Luke said.
"If my uncle couldn't make it, why couldn't you?" I persisted, questioning Dylan.
"I had to be by my father's side. I won't justify my choices to you."
Ask the doctor. Ask the doctor, they both said, but I still felt unsatisfied with their answers.
"We heard about the shootout at the cemetery—which you had prepared for," Dylan continued, despite his father's warnings. "Yet, you gave us no warning about your move, and you'd rather we'd come in blind and been shot at?" Dylan yelled.
"Which of you ordered Fred's murder?" I asked them.
Dylan opened his mouth to speak, but when he saw my men walk into the dining room, he closed it again. He sank in his seat, uneasy, as the gravity of the situation became clear to him. My uncle, on the other hand, was unfazed by the number of men and guns in the room.
"Only the guilty are rattled by a bluff," Luke explained. "Whatever happened to Fred had nothing to do with me. Who else knows who he'd pissed offbesides us? What if the Robinsons paid to have him silenced after you kidnapped him? There are numerous possibilities, and I believe you are looking at the wrong people. Your perpetrator is among your own men."
Frustrated, I sat at the head of the table. I knew my plan to ambush my uncle and cousin had a low chance of success, but I was desperate to get to the bottom of the situation.
As I rose from my seat, I delivered my verdict. "Do not leave town until I find the person who is undermining me," I told them.
"How is she doing?" I heard something from behind me as I was about to walk away. I returned my gaze to my uncle, whose face was devoid of malice.
"She seemed to have a really close bond with Fred," he continued, but I remained silent.
Luke sighed and raised his hand in the air. "I ran into her the other night. She was a pleasant chat."
