Homer nodded. “That’s when her daddy passed and left the place to her.” He whistled. “Her brother was so mad, he sued the estate to challenge the will in court.” Disapproval dragged the corners of his mouth down. “The old man had the right to leave his farm to whoever he pleased, especially since Camilla was the one who took care of him. Bernard moved to Scarlet Falls and raised his family there. Camilla stayed on the farm with hers, but Bernard still thought he was entitled to his share anyway.”
“I assume he lost the court battle?” Todd asked.
“Yep.” Homer gave him a tight-lipped nod. “The court had no time for his nonsense. Camilla earned that farm the hard way.”
“So there was tension between Camilla and Bernard?”
“There was,” Homer answered. “Recently, it seemed Bernard was trying to mend fences. He came up for Camilla’s birthday last month. Brought his girls and grandkids too. Camilla was excited about it. She loved those kids.” Homer frowned again.
Todd sensed an impending but the size of an eighteen-wheeler.
“But it turned out they all showed up just to ask her for money.” Homer shook his head. “Camilla laughed when she told me because she didn’t have any money. All she had was the farm. They suggested she sell it. Said her life would be easier if she downsized. But she refused to give up her home. It’s been her whole life. What would she do without it?” He pondered his own question for a few seconds, clearly comparing Camilla’s predicament to his own.
Todd prompted, “Was Camilla angry?”
Homer considered the question. “No. Not angry.” His brow furrowed into a thousand wrinkles. “She was disappointed, and maybe a little bitter.”
“Was her brother angry she said no?”
Homer nodded. “He’s always been a selfish prick. When the old man was sick and Camilla was taking care of him, the brother hardly ever came over to help. It’s not like he lives across the country. He’s in the next town.”
“Did she say why they wanted money?”
Homer shook his head. “No. Just that they only bothered with her when they wanted something. I don’t think she was surprised Bernard was being an ass. He’s always been a selfish, entitled snob. But Camilla thought the girls were better than that.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us about the family?”
Homer shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Then thank you for your time.” Todd left the barn and returned to his vehicle.
Interesting.
Todd headed back to the station to do more research on Camilla’s family. Their history was clearly more complicated than Bernard pretended.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In the passenger seat of the SUV, Matt entered Kenny’s address into the GPS. Kenny lived in Grey’s Hollow, so the drive was short.
Behind the wheel, Bree made a left. “What do we know about Kenny?”
Matt relayed the background info he’d found on Kenny earlier. “Other than Oscar’s charges, Kenny’s record is clean. Before that incident, he had no priors and a steady employment history.”
“The sentence seemed harsh for a first offense.”
“Yeah. He refused to plea-bargain and maintained his innocence all the way to trial. The judge gave him the maximum, probably as punishment.”
Over 90 percent of cases were plea-bargained to save the court time and money. Arrestees were encouraged to accept deals. Some judges resented criminals insisting on trials for small offenses and issued harsh penalties as a lesson to the offender and as a signal to others: exercise your legal rights, and we’ll throw the book at you.
“So much for the right to a trial by your peers,” Bree said.
“The system has its problems,” Matt agreed. “Kenny is fifty-one, single, and currently works the night shift at a warehouse as a forklift operator. He has six months left on parole. There’s really nothing else to say about him. His prison record showed one altercation with another inmate. That incident was used to deny parole at his first hearing, but it was granted a few months later. According to his parole officer, he’s complied with all the requirements of his release. He has no social media accounts and no real online presence.”
Less than ten minutes later, Bree pulled up to the curb in front of a tiny house a few blocks from the small business district of Grey’s Hollow, and they walked to the front door.
The elderly woman who answered their knock was the size of a ten-year-old. The top of her head barely reached Matt’s ribs. At least seventy-five years old, she was dressed smartly in a navy-blue track suit and bright white sneakers. She looked exceptionally fit for her age, moving with a youthful bounce in her step. Blonde streaks artfully highlighted short gray hair. Despite her vigor, her age couldn’t be denied. She squinted through thick bifocal glasses, and Matt could see a flesh-colored hearing aid in one ear.