Page 134 of The Lilac River

He gave me that look.

The one from when we were kids and did something wrong. The one that promised retribution later. The one that came right before a barrage of put downs and verbal bullets.

“Go ahead,” he snapped.

I cleared my throat, heart thudding. Time to bring the house down.

“This here’s a receipt,” I said, holding it high, “for two barrels of chemical pesticide that were dumped into the creek on our land. Right where the water runs off into Calvin’s land and into the Jenkins property.”

Gasps.

I let the silence stretch just enough to twist the tension tight.

“We didn’t buy these chemicals. We don’t use them. Hell, we wouldn’t even have a use for them.”

Dad’s face remained blank. Cold. Stone still.

But I knew.

He was cornered.

“What’s your point?” Duke asked, impatience seeping into his tone. “What are you asking the Mayor to do?”

I turned toward the crowd. My voice lifted, even and deliberate.

“I’m asking the Mayor to explain why he purchased those two barrels of a banned chemical,” I said, “just two days before they were dumped. Why this receipt, made out in his name, was found in his home.”

That was the spark.

The room exploded.

Dad shot to his feet so fast his chair toppled behind him.

“How the hell did you?—”

“Mr. Mayor,” Duke hissed, grabbing at his sleeve. “Please sit down. And say nothing.”

Dad collapsed back into his chair, sweating, gulping water like it might save him.

But it wouldn’t.

Calvin stormed forward, shouting. “I’ll sue you personally for this, you mark my words!”

Chaos erupted. People were yelling over one another, demanding to see the receipt, calling for Dad’s resignation. Duke tried to defend him, voice shaky, “Why would the Mayor hurt the ranch, his own land?”

Gunner stood, fury in every line of his body. “Why would we?” he snapped. “This is our home. Our family’s legacy but he wants us to find it too damn hard. He wants us to believe we have no choices. Imagine the cost of the fine, it would cripple us financially and then he’d have no choice but to sell our land.”

“And that goes for the Mayor, too!” Duke flailed. “It’s his land. It would be ludicrous.”

Dad shrank deeper into his seat.

“Well, you see,” Wilder roared, holding the second piece of evidence high above his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. This copy of our mother’s will that he had hidden says different.”

Silence slammed down. Heavy. Immediate.

Wilder’s voice rang out.

“This will. The one that left him nothing. This one he buried so he could keep control over us and our ranch.”

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