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Married and divorced three times—and paying triple alimony—Royce had not always been a successful entrepreneur. He’d made his ever-expanding fortune in upscale housing projects, including Lake Azure and another in the Poconos, and also headed up the Environmental Expansion Company, the EEC, which oversaw the majority of fracking for gas and oil in this area. Though he was a trim, fairly short man, Royce Flemming left huge footprints wherever he went.
    As the sun set, they sat at the bar in the living area with its views of hills and the lake. Matt’s three-bedroom house was the medium size for the development and blended beautifully into the natural setting, one of the prerequisites for a Lake Azure home. It was perched on a cul-de-sac that overlooked the lodge and lake with its man-made sand beach, boathouse and dock.
    “The usual?” Matt asked. “I could use a stiff one myself after today.”
    Royce nodded. “Can you believe I’m dating a woman who likes bourbon and branch? But yeah, thanks. Make it my usual—a double.”
    “Bourbon and branch? Isn’t that what evil oilman J. R. Ewing used to drink on
Dallas?
”
    “Yeah, that’s right. So, Jennifer called from the office and said it was my truck that went over.”
    Matt heaved a huge sigh and handed Royce his Jim Beam on the rocks. “Yeah, the Azure Lake truck Orlando usually drives when the black car seems a bit too much or you’re headed to rough ground.”
    “I hear you, partner. That’s why I liked that truck around here. Believe me, I don’t always need Orlando hanging on—or maybe I do now.”
    They clinked glasses and sat facing each other across the mahogany bar. Moments like this made Matt really miss his father. As close as he felt personally and professionally to this man who had been his dad’s best friend and who did not have children of his own, it was never quite the same. He admired Royce tremendously, but there was always an edge to the man that couldn’t be smoothed away.
    “Okay, I’ll just say it,” Royce said. “The hillbilly jerk who tried to shove you off might have been after me.” It was a statement, not a question, but then Royce always seemed to have all the answers.
    “Possibly. But why you, the moneyman, the salvation of this area in people’s eyes?”
    “In
some
people’s eyes. If he was after Brad Mason, my right-hand guy in charge of the fracking contracts, the would-be killer is nearsighted as hell. Brad’s always in that fire-engine red, look-at-me truck, which is good advertising, though I know he’s got fans and haters out there.”
    “Woody drove the white truck once in a while but he’s dead, and you’re always driven by Orlando, so that leaves me as the target. But if the guy in that truck wanted me to die, why?”
    “Yeah. Matt, you know Woody was a loose cannon. I’m sorry he had that freak accident, but it kept me from firing him for printing up those homemade signs and picketing this place. It shook up the residents here. He should have picketed one of the drilling sites, not here.”
    “
I
hire and fire here, and I would not have fired him.”
    “Okay, he was a good worker. I overanalyze everything.”
    “Me, too, now. Even after hashing all this out with the sheriff, his deputy and Charlene Lockwood, I still can’t figure—”
    “Lockwood’s the woman who just happened to come along in time?”
    “What do you mean ‘just happened to’?”
    “I checked into her. A bleeding heart social worker who could, possibly should, profit from helping you get out of that truck in time. Maybe it was pushed just so far so it wouldn’t go over, then here she comes to help. I hear she visits families up in the hills and could no doubt use a hefty reward for her Appalachian project. And, like you said, who has the money around here? I do, you do—and people know that.”
    “You mean like she set it up?” Matt’s voice rose in tone and volume. “Royce, now you’re over the edge.”
    “Calm