Free A Lethal Time (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 4) by Peggy A. Edelheit

tea and mentally forgave him.
    He was safe.
    “Well, what happened?” I asked, eager to find out.
    The kitchen went silent as everyone turned to hear what Clay had to say. His absence had been a main topic of over-speculation. The subject was exhausted hours ago, but hyperbole and hunches still lingered in the air.
    He smiled and started filling his plate. “I’m starved.”
    Martha edged forward, impatient as usual. “Yeah, yeah, you’re hungry. Big deal. What the heck did you find out?”
    He set his plate down and sat at the table. In minutes, everyone had thrown sandwicheswith reckless abandon onto their plates and sat waiting to hear the latest info.
    “What we initially heard,” said Clay, “about Robinson’s relatives not being close-knit was true. They were only concerned with the money angle. But this is where it gets interesting. Robinson had a will in place when he died. It stipulated that his property couldn’t be divided into lots. It was to stay with only one house on it because it had been previously donated in a land conservation easement.”
    I smiled. “So, it could still be sold, but with conditions.”
    “And if a developer bought it for a subdivision, he would then have to pay back about twenty year’s worth of previously reduced taxes to reverse the easement.”
    “Clever! Because that would be cost prohibitive.”
    “Plus, they would have to get zoning permission, but it was the last clause in the will that was the real surprise.”
    “And what was that?” Crystal asked.
    “It instructed that Jackson Porter could graze his cattle on a portion of it for ten years regardless of who owned it.”
    “Well, that doesn’t make sense,” said Crystal.
    “That’s what I thought. Then I found out who Jackson’s mother was, which made it all the more mystifying.”

 
     
     
    Chapter 32
    Hey, You’re Killing Me
     
     
    Everyone stared around the group, mentally trying to out-think the other about who this mystery woman might be. There wasn’t one single nibble or speculation coming forth, so it was up to Clay to verbally hand it over.
    He leaned back after a few bites of food, taking his sweet old time, drawing out the suspense.
    “Okay, quit dragging it out,” I said, laughing.
    “Yeah,” said Martha. “Spit it out. You’re killing us.”
    “Her name was Helen Mason, and the woman that was murdered during that home invasion, who just so happens to have had those water rights to the well here, remember?”
    Well, you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. No one, including me, had expected that one.
    “You sure?” Betty asked. “Their names are different.”
    “Anyone can legally change their name. It’s done a lot.”
    “How old was she?” asked Hazel.
    “Fifty-five years old.”
    Now, why would Jackson keep his past quiet?
    I gave Clay a suspicious look. “Exactly how do you find this stuff out? Or shouldn’t we be asking?”
    Clay winked, and stood up. “That’s on a need to know basis. Hey, I’m going for a Harley ride, any takers?”
    I declined. “I think I’ll go walk over to the neighbor’s across the road to see what information I can scare up.”
    Crystal got up. “I can never get enough Harley rides.”
    We were all about to go our separate ways when Martha remembered something. “Speaking of the neighbors, we almost plumb forgot about our library visit.”
    Hazel sat back down. “Why, yes, we did, didn’t we?”
    “I think you will find this interesting, Sam,” said Betty.
    Martha scooted closer to the table. “Remember we told you about Robinson and the lumber truck?”
    “Yeah, what about it?” I asked, leaning in.
    “That woman at the library forgot to mention that her brother’s cousin’s headlights flashed on something the other evening in the most unexpected place.”
    Betty laughed. “And not where you’d expect it.”
    “And where might that be?” I asked.
    “Across the street at Sally’s neighbor’s