Page 71 of Home for Justice
“That’s right.” Tyler nodded. “The one who got away from his parents as soon as he could.”
“I was always proud of him for leaving,” Jack said, pushing his bowl aside and leaning back in his chair. His expression softened with memory. “Not because we didn’t want him around. But he always wanted more for himself. And getting away from Jordy and Debbie was the best thing he ever could’ve done for himself.”
Justice smiled, warmed by her father’s easy pride in John. It was a good reminder that not all family ties had to choke the life out of you.
Tyler shifted topics, his voice steady. “I talked to the detective and read the fire chief’s report today, along with talking to my coworkers. I have a couple of men from the American Legion who said they’d come by to clear out the barn rubble.”
Justice’s smile faded, replaced by concern. “And it’s definitely arson?”
“That’s what the report said.”
“Why would someone set fire to your small barn?” Justice asked, shaking her head, her voice tight with disbelief. “It makes no damn sense.”
Jack’s brow furrowed. Before he could answer, Tyler leaned forward slightly, elbows braced on the table, the muscles in his forearms taut with restrained frustration.
“It’s just a suspicious coincidence,” Tyler began, his voice even but laced with steel, “that your garage gets vandalized right around the time Anthony Milton’s been pressing all of us to sell. And then someone sets a fire close to my house.”
Justice’s stomach knotted. She pushed back from the table slightly, needing the space to think. “The condos need you to sell since you have the bulk of the property, but would do even better if they got both of us to sell,” she said, trying to make sense of it out loud. “If someone scared you off, it’d still leave us sitting here on the land. We’re not selling. And if the garage…” Her mind raced ahead with unpleasant possibilities.
“If the garage suffered a big enough financial hit,” Jack said, picking up the thread with a grim nod, “someone might think we’d have no choice but to sell. Get a big payout, pay our workers, cover our losses.”
Justice gritted her teeth, shaking her head again. “That still makes no sense,” she muttered. “The business is insured.”
Jack gave a slow nod. “It is. But think about it—insurance covers the building, not the lost wages for the mechanics while repairs happen. Not the dip in business while we’re rebuilding.”
Tyler added, his tone thoughtful, “If someone was targeting you, they might think selling to Anthony would give you cash in hand fast. Even if it wasn’t what you wanted to do.”
Justice’s gaze snapped to him, something stubborn flashing in her eyes. “It’s a possibility,” she admitted. “But I still think Debbie went on a drunken tirade and hurled the stupid fire bomb through the window. A professional arsonist would havedone a more comprehensive job. All she managed to do was mess up the reception area and piss me off!”
Tyler’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile but knew better. “You might be right. Maybe the two incidents aren’t connected at all.”
Jack leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “But why your place?” he asked aloud, his voice lined with frustration. “You’ve got the biggest piece of land Milton is salivating to get his hands on, but you’re hardly a man to run scared.”
“Maybe whoever’s behind this was watching,” Tyler said. “If they saw us installing security cameras at your house, they might’ve figured my place was the easier target. Maybe somebody cruised by and noticed the cameras going up here.”
Justice frowned, tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her finger, her mind spinning through possibilities. “So if someone were driving by, scouting, they’d realize we’d made it harder for them. And if your house burned, then you’d take him up on his offer.”
Jack sighed, a heavy sound. “None of this adds up neatly. I don’t like Anthony Milton one bit, but I can’t picture him stooping to vandalism. And your uncle Jordy…” Jack’s mouth twisted like the words tasted bad. “My brother is greedy, selfish, and he’s got a selective memory when it comes to money. But hurting people? I don’t think he’s got that in him. Plus, he gets nothing from the sale of this place.”
“He could try to sue you for half the money from the sale,” Tyler said.
Immediately, Jack and Justice shook their heads. “He doesn’t get anything from my land.”
“No, but if he tied it up in courts for a while, he could make your life miserable.”
“I still say Debbie could do it,” Justice said, her voice sharper now. “Remember what Mom always said? She put up with UncleJordy because he was your brother, but said his wife was meaner than a snake.”
Jack barked out a short laugh, the sound rough but genuine. “Your mom had more common sense than most of the county combined.”
The heavy conversation eased slightly as they finished their bowls of stew. Tyler pushed back from the table, a boyish glint in his eyes.
“I brought dessert,” he said. “There are still cakes and pies in the freezer from when some of the ladies dropped off food after Gramps died.”
Justice stood and retrieved the cake he’d brought, setting it on the table with a flourish. It was a simple homemade yellow cake with thick chocolate frosting. Comfort food at its finest.
By the time the cake plates were half empty and coffee mugs were refilled, the conversation had shifted away from vandals and fires.
Talk turned to funny stories from the garage, Jack’s steady physical therapy victories, and small-town gossip that didn’t carry a dark edge. For a little while, at least, they let the shadows outside the windows stay outside.
