The Agent's Surrender (17 page)

“What do you mean, you’re ending things?” Holden had demanded to know, standing apart from her, pissed as hell and more than a little hurt. “This is crap and you know it. Everything was going fine until your dad got involved.”

“And who got him involved?” she had shot back, still mad at him for thinking he knew how to handle the situation with her father better than her. “I told you to back off, but you refused and did whatever you thought was necessary and it blew up in our faces. Well, congrats—this is your reward!”

“You’re punishing me for trying to talk to your dad for
us?
” he’d asked with open incredulity. “That’s rich, Fallon. Totally rich. Remind me never to do you a solid ever again.”

“Oh, don’t try to delude yourself into thinking you did that for me. It was all about you. The charming Holden Archangelo thought he could bamboozle my father into liking him and it went sour. End of story.”

“Believe what you want, but I did it for
you!
It’s not natural for you to live under your father’s thumb for the rest of your life. For crying out loud, Fallon, you’re still balancing his damn checkbook!”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she’d said stubbornly, though she had tried to talk her father into hiring an accountant. The Major had shut her down pretty quickly, saying he couldn’t trust strangers with his finances. Then when she’d tried to enlist the help of her brothers, The Major had shut her down on that score, too, saying Ian and Walker were too busy to handle an extra assignment. “If you were close to your father, Holden, you’d understand. My dad needs me and I enjoy being able to help.”

“No, you crave that tiny pat on the head that he doles out like a miser with his gold,” Holden had returned, and her cheeks had burned with the insult because it was partly true. Even though she was overloaded with responsibilities, it gave her a small amount of pleasure knowing her father valued her help in this one way. He still managed to find fault each time, which always put a damper on the meager amount of satisfaction she received for the work. Holden must’ve peeked inside her brain because he’d then said, “See? Even you know it’s true. When are you going to start living your life for you instead of everyone else? What about your brothers? Do they beg for your father’s approval before they date someone?”

“No,” she’d answered, her cheeks burning even hotter. “My dad doesn’t seem to care who they date.”

“Why? Because somehow they’re perfect judges of character? And if that’s so, why can’t they trust your judgment?”

“Stop it!” She’d clapped her hands over her ears, unable to listen to another minute of Holden punching holes in her life. Everything he’d said rang with truth, but she hadn’t been ready to burn down the house just because the roof leaked a little. “I don’t tell you how to be with your family, so shut the hell up. I don’t even know why you’re so upset about my ending things. I thought you were the perennial bachelor? This should be a blessing. You ought to be thanking me for letting you off the hook. I mean, c’mon, Holden, what did you think? That we were going to run off and get married or something? We were just sleeping together. That’s it. And now it’s over.”

Holden had held her stare, his mouth a tight line of frustrated anger, but there had been hurt in his eyes. It had been the secret pain he was trying to hide that had twisted her heart. She’d done that. She’d put that look in his eyes. And a part of her mourned her own actions, but if her father had taught her anything, it was how to make the hard choice with a stiff upper lip.
Thanks, Dad.

“So you really didn’t sleep well last night,” Holden asked, breaking into her thoughts. She was so grateful to be out of her own head that she answered truthfully.

“Yeah, too many memories. Both good and bad,” she admitted. “I feel as if I only got a few winks. Reminds me of when I was stationed in Iraq. That was a bloody awful time.”

“Iraq is a dusty bowl of insurgent nightmares. I spent a tour there. Then I got shipped off to Afghanistan for another crap detail that nearly got my ass shot off.”

She smiled in weary commiseration. “It feels like that. I swear I have sand in my eyes.” He reached over and massaged the back of her neck, gently squeezing the muscles holding up her head, and she groaned. “That felt awesome,” she said with a sigh, just for a moment enjoying the simple pleasure. Jane cast Holden a brief smile and he smiled back, igniting tiny bubbles in her stomach. She shook her head. “You’re a hard habit to break,” she murmured, mostly to herself, but Holden heard and chuckled.

“Glad to hear it. Soothes my bruised ego a little.”

Funny how the little sleep she’d managed with Holden had been wholly satisfying, yet the eight hours she had supposedly gotten last night made her feel as if she’d slept only two winks. She refused to believe it was anything more than wild, crazy attraction between two people who were turned on by the forbidden aspect of their relationship. What other option was there? Was she falling in love with Holden? Goodness gracious, she hoped not. She didn’t need that complication. Maybe it wasn’t love but simply the draw of a forbidden relationship. Maybe she was a bit of a bad girl. Maybe a latent naughtiness inside of her was spurring her to do things outside of her nature. That must be the answer, because ever since Holden had been thrown into her life, she’d been doing and saying things that were so far afield of what she would ever say or do she almost didn’t recognize herself. The weird part? She kind of liked it. She liked this feeling of having no rules, or better yet, saying screw the rules and just going for it. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. Yes, sometimes rule breaking was fun. Especially if it was with Holden. But right now they had a case to figure out. And she had a feeling they were only scratching the surface of something really bad.

Chapter 16

T
hey pulled off the highway and found themselves on a long winding road that carved through the scenic mountainside cloaked in the bitter cold of winter. “It’s a little creepy, yet beautiful at the same time,” she observed. “I’ve never actually heard of a winery in Washington. Aren’t most wineries in California?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’m not exactly a wine drinker. I prefer beer myself.”

“Me, too.”

Holden flashed her a grin as they pulled into the winery parking lot. “All right, let’s see what this winery dude has to tell us,” he said as they climbed from the car.

An imposing rock-and-brick building rose from the ground, the design both old world and modern at the same time. An affluent stamp marked the property; everywhere they looked the evidence of big money stared back. Rolling hills lined with rows upon rows of gnarled grape vines lashed to rigging to keep them upright went as far as the eye could see. Snow dotted the mountaintops above them. It was romantic and breathtakingly scenic. Too bad they weren’t out sightseeing.

An older man with a sharp smile emerged from the house and quickly introduced himself. “You must be Agent Archangelo and Agent Fallon. Nice to meet you. My name is Trevor Granger. I own Butterfly Bend.”

“Thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice,” Jane said.

“No problem. We’re off season right now, so things slow to an acceptable pace around here. Now, if this meeting had happened in September, I would’ve had to tell you to take a number.” He laughed at his own joke and Jane and Holden simply smiled politely as they followed him into the warmth of the building. Inside was just as lovely as the outside. Tastefully decorated with an understated wealth, it looked as if a set decorator had dressed it for a scene. “Can I get you some coffee or fresh scones?” he offered. A scone tempted Jane, but she declined, as did Holden. However, the man wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Are you sure? Fresh from the oven. There is nothing better than a fresh scone with homemade cream. And don’t even try to let anyone tell you the stuff in the can is just as good as cream whipped to a perfect peak. Lies, I tell you. It’s the real deal or nothing.”

“I agree, sir.” Holden smiled. “Maybe I will take one of those scones.”

Trevor snapped his fingers and a round dark-haired woman appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray. Her graying hair sprang from her head in unruly strands, and a warm smile wreathed her mouth as she offered the plate for his selection. “Maria is the best baker in all of Washington. I know this because she used to run her own bakery and I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Now she bakes for me.”

Jane looked to Maria, surprised. “You gave up your business to be the baker for Mr. Granger?”

Maria bobbed her head. “Oh, yes. Mr. Granger is very generous. And I love working here.”

Trevor nodded at Maria’s answer and then she scuttled off. “I always say treat your hired help well and you’ll never be left with open positions,” he shared with a patronizing smile. “Maria has been with us for two years now and it’s because of her my waistline is getting a little bit thicker. I don’t mind, though.”

Holden groaned as he enjoyed his bite. “Whatever her salary is, she’s worth it. This is the most amazing scone I’ve ever had in my life.”

Jane startled when he pushed a scone at her. “No, thank you,” she said in a low tone, annoyed that Holden was so easily distracted. Honestly, how did this man ever get anything done? She looked to Trevor. “Mr. Granger, you might wonder why we called this meeting today. We have some questions regarding your cousin, Penny Winslow, or as you knew her, Penelope Granger. Did you have anything to do with a company called Tessara?”

“Oh, yes. Penelope was helping me develop a new type of cork for my wine bottles. One of the problems that we have is cork disintegration over time. She was helping me create a coating that would go over the cork and prevent it from disintegrating without affecting the integrity of the wine.”

“Why not just use plastic?” Jane suggested.

“My dear, one does not simply use plastic in the wine that has been selected as the Presidential Reserve. Plastic has chemicals that affect the wine’s integrity. My reputation would be ruined if I dared to use a plastic cork.”

“Oh,” Jane said, not meaning to offend the man. “So was she successful?”

“Yes, she was. I received a shipment of the new corks last month. Unfortunately, Penelope is not here to celebrate with me. We were very close and her death took a toll on my health. I still get choked up when I let myself dwell. She was a tremendous woman and like a sister to me.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jane murmured, but from what she had read, Penny Winslow was a sociopath. Her death was a blessing; however, this man had been her family, so Jane would try to be respectful. “It may grieve you to learn that Penny was involved in a number of illegal activities.”

“I recall some of the more sordid newspaper headlines,” Trevor said, his mouth pinching in a disgusted moue. “But I’ve come to realize the truth doesn’t always make for the best headline. I choose not to believe such lies about my cousin. She was a generous woman who believed in volunteering and was involved in various humanitarian works. Surely you’ve read some of the many articles about her charitable giving? I’d hate to think that all my cousin Penny will be remembered for is the lies that were printed about her toward the end of her life.”

“Penny was found guilty by the law—those were not lies,” Holden said. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I’m sure she was a different person with you.”

Trevor jerked a short nod but kept his lips tight, which Jane had to respect. Sometimes it was hard to remember that even bad people were loved by someone.

“That’s what brings us here today,” Holden continued. “It seems Penny was involved with more than just good works.”

“Such as capitalism,” Jane murmured, unable to stop herself. Holden cast her a look, and she buttoned up. She knew that comments like that weren’t exactly helpful. Thankfully, it didn’t appear as if Trevor had caught her muttered dig.

“I don’t want to tarnish the memory of your cousin, but the person she was to you isn’t the person she was to everyone. Penny was abusing her position for personal gain. Again, I’m sorry to pour salt in the wound, but we need to know why my brother, Miko, would’ve mentioned your winery in covert notebooks that also involve your cousin Penny. Do you have any idea why he would have mentioned Butterfly Bend?”

Trevor shook his head with a faint frown. “I haven’t a clue. I assure you, nothing illegal is happening on these premises. I have too much to lose to mess with anything that might cost me my livelihood. You don’t get selected to create the Presidential Reserve without keeping your nose clean.”

“What is the Presidential Reserve?” Jane asked. He’d mentioned it twice now, so it must be important.

“We were tasked to create an original blend specifically for the White House. Any event is served with a white and red of Butterfly Bend Presidential Reserve.”

“Wow. That’s quite a coup,” Holden said, and Trevor nodded.

“See? I wouldn’t risk everything I have for anyone, not even my beloved cousin.”

“How does one earn the designation of the Presidential Reserve?” Holden asked.

“Cultivating the right connections along with creating award-winning wines is essential.”

“And you obviously managed both criteria.”

“For two years running now,” Trevor said, puffing out his chest with pride. “In fact, we’re shipping another batch of wine at the end of this month for a special presidential dinner. It’s a small gathering, not the usual five hundred head count, just the executive branch.”

“Nice,” Holden said, holding a brief smile, but Jane could feel the frustration starting to roll off him that not even a delicious scone could divert. They were at another dead end. Trevor Granger didn’t give off a criminal vibe, and they couldn’t go after a guy simply because he had crappy relatives. “Thank you for your help. I think we’ve taken up enough of your time.”

Trevor rose as they did, looking eager to please again. “I’m happy to be of service to the government in any way I can.”

Yes, so keep those kickbacks flowing my way,
Jane thought derisively as her smile remained fixed. “We’ll be in touch if there’s anything else we need.”