Entangled (34 page)

I nodded. “He was out front when Antonio
came. He must have been watching the house and realized tonight was
his chance, with everyone out for the evening.”

He looked down at the ruined couch. “I’m
sorry about that.”

I shook my head and put my arms around him.
“It’s not your fault. Besides, things can be replaced, people
can’t,” I said, thinking of his friend Sam. “I’m just glad Mother
wasn’t here.”

The phone rang and I ran to answer it, Handel
following close on my heels. “Hello?”

Margaret’s voice was shrill and agitated.
“Davy is missing! I just checked his room. He’s not there.” She
sobbed hysterically into the phone and I handed it quickly to her
brother.

“It’s Davy. He’s gone,” I said, covering the
receiver.

His eyes widened, but he spoke calmly to his
sister, trying to get all the information. Finally, he said, “You
know how he likes to sneak out and hide. He’s probably here
somewhere. We’ll find him.”

“Should we call the police?” I asked when he
hung up.

He licked his lips and looked around the
kitchen. “Do you have a flashlight?”

“Yes.” I dug in the drawer and handed it to
him. “Here.”

“You stay here and I’ll take a look out in
the vineyard where he likes to hide. If I don’t find him in half an
hour, we’ll call the police then,” he said. He flipped the
flashlight on and off to check the battery and opened the back
door. “Don’t worry. He does this all the time.”

I stood at the window, unable to see into the
dark night and wished for the hundredth time that Handel would
burst through the door with Davy in tow, and this day would end on
a happy note. But the door didn’t open. I glanced at my watch and
realized only ten minutes had passed since he left.

I paced to the living room and looked around
at the destruction Sean Parker had wreaked once again upon my life.
Like a black cloud he continued to rain down grief. I prayed the
police would catch him before he ruined any more lives.

The drapes were open on the front window and
I went to pull them closed. I started to tug on the cord but a
flicker of light caught my attention across the yard. Was Handel
over by the winery now, searching for Davy around the sheds and
buildings?

I reached out and switched off the lamp,
darkening the room and making it easier to see outside. I stared
unblinkingly into the night. Suddenly a light went on inside the
winery. I could see it through the glass of the front door. Someone
was in there. I bit my bottom lip and waited. The light
disappeared. Could I have been mistaken?

Only three people had the code for the
security system: Charlie, Sally, and me. Would either of them be
wandering through the winery on a Friday night? I didn’t think so,
but then Charlie had admitted to taking a bottle of Jack’s wine
without permission. Perhaps he came back for another.

My cell phone rang and I flipped it open, my
attention still on the winery.

“This is Billie.”

“Ms. Fredrickson.” It was Charlie. “I think
there’s something over here at the offices that you should
see.”

“Charlie, why are you at the winery after
hours?” I asked. I pressed my fingers against the front window and
squinted into the night. There was no sign of his old pickup parked
in the drive. Did he park in back of the shed?

“I found some discrepancies in the books the
other day and wanted to double check.” His voice sounded funny,
sort of halting and unsure. Was he insinuating that someone in the
office was cooking the books? Or perhaps his daughter Alex. As the
accountant for the winery, she certainly had access.

I bit my lip. Handel wanted me to stay here
and wait in case Davy showed up, but I’d just be across the yard
and I had my cell phone. “I’ll be right over.” I flipped the phone
closed and pushed it into my back pocket.

I went out the front door and marched across
the drive, gravel crunching briskly beneath my shoes. At the
winery, I punched in the code and let myself in.

The hallway was dark and I wondered if
Charlie was in the back. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim
light before heading toward my office. The door was closed. I
distinctly remembered leaving it open for the cleaning crew, but
perhaps they closed it on their way out.

I turned the knob and stepped inside,
flipping the light switch on as I did. The brightness made me
blink, but then I stared in horror at the room around me. Bottles
of Jack’s special wine had been carried to my office and smashed
against the walls, desk, and bookcase with apparent rage. The
carpet, soaked and splattered with red wine, looked as if a
massacre had taken place upon its tan surface. A rich, heady
fragrance filled the air, almost overpowering, as though the room
itself was on a binge.

I took a step forward and felt the crunch of
glass beneath my shoes. Moving carefully across the room, I
approached the desk. The drawers were all yanked out, the contents
dumped unceremoniously to the floor, wine and shattered glass
sprinkled liberally on top like decorations on a cake.

I reached down, my hand shaking, and lifted a
broken piece of bottle, the label with the clock I’d designed still
intact. Why would someone do this? It made no sense. Charlie and
Sally were excited that the local paper was doing an article about
the winery and this wine, a special vintage never before made
public, and could give us the publicity we needed to attract new
customers. Certainly they wanted the winery to become a success as
much as I did.

Glass and wine covered the desk’s surface as
well as the seats of the chairs. My legs felt weak but there was
nowhere to safely sit. I clung to the back of a chair and took a
deep breath. My heart beat heavily as though I’d been running. I
felt violated once again. Vandalized twice in one night.

Of course. Sean Parker. He hated me and I
knew he bore a grudge. He resented the fact that Jack left the
winery to me; had said as much to my face. How he got in here, I
had no idea, but he wouldn’t get away with it.

I flipped my phone open and dialed 911. The
sound of crunching glass made me look up. Charlie stood in the
doorway, his expression horrified as he glanced around the room and
back at me.

“What did you do, Ms. Fredrickson?” he asked,
his voice overloud in the quiet room. He wore a black t-shirt
tucked neatly into a pair of dark jeans, and a black stocking cap
rolled up on the sides to cover the top of his head, making him
appear a stocky cat burglar.

I shook my head. “I’m calling the police.
Sean Parker did this. He also broke into my house earlier tonight,”
I tried to explain, listening for the call to connect.

“911. What is the nature of your emergency?”
The dispatcher said.

“Yes, I’m at…

“Ms. Fredrickson, you don’t have to do this.
I can help you,” he said, his voice cutting me off, speaking loud
enough for the dispatcher to hear on her end of the line. He
reached one hand behind his back as he stepped closer and I felt a
tingle of apprehension run up my spine, self-preservation screaming
my name.

Instinctively I grasped the neck of the
broken bottle lying there on the desk. When he brought his hand
forward there was a gun in his grip. As he hesitated, I lunged
forward and swung my weapon, slicing deep into his wrist. He yelped
and dropped the gun to the floor, as blood spurted from the wound,
running down his fingers and mixing with Jack’s burgundy.

I pushed past him and ran down the hall. I’d
dropped my cell phone and knew I had to call for help. Charlie
could bleed out and I’d be responsible. I had no idea why he would
try to kill me, but I didn’t want his death on my conscience.
Gasping for breath, I stopped at Sally’s desk and lifted the
receiver.

There was no dial tone. I yanked up the cord
and saw it was disconnected.

“Put that down, Ms. Fredrickson,” a calm
voice ordered.

Alex Becker stood in the doorway, her dark
figure silhouetted by the light filtering down the hall. She
stepped closer and I saw that she now held the gun her father
dropped in my office. “What are you doing? I need to call an
ambulance. Charlie’s been hurt, ” I said, my voice pleading.

She didn’t seem overly worried about the
circumstances, but waved the gun at me. “Let’s go back to your
office now, Ms. Fredrickson,” she said.

I moved away from the desk and toward the
door, keeping my eye on the gun she held. She stepped back and let
me walk ahead of her, as I retraced my steps down the hall. “Why
are you doing this? I don’t understand.”

She reached out and pushed the small of my
back with the barrel of the gun, prodding me to move faster. “Just
walk.”

At the office door I stopped and stared.
Charlie sat on the glass-strewn carpet with his back against my
desk. He held his bleeding arm to his chest, his belt tied tightly
above the wound as a tourniquet. He looked about ready to pass
out.

“Get in there!” Alex ordered, her voice rose
at the sight of her father lying still. “It’s time to finish
this.”

Charlie turned his head slightly and looked
up. “Alex. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”

The repugnance she felt for her father was a
tangible thing. With lips twisted she made a sound of disgust. “Of
course, you couldn’t. Mother was right. You’re worthless! You can’t
do a simple thing right. I planned this to the last detail and you
can’t even follow directions. Just shoot the bitch, put the gun in
her hand, and leave!”

His breath was short and raspy. “Its too late
now, Alex. Get out while you still can. I’ll take the blame,” he
said, still desperate for his daughter’s love even in the face of
her undisguised loathing.

I moved to his side and knelt down, examining
his wound. It was still bleeding, the belt not tight enough to stop
the flow. His face was pale and his skin felt cold and clammy. He
needed to get to the hospital immediately or he would die.

She laughed bitterly. “It’s too late for you.
Not me. With both of you dead, there won’t be anyone to contradict
my story. Jack wanted me to have this winery. He told me so. He
wrote a preliminary will. If she’s out of the way, I’m next in
line.”

I turned my gaze on her, fury beating out
fear. “You’d let your own father die for this?” I opened my arms
wide and shook my head. “I would give it all to you free and clear
for one moment back with mine.”

“It’s a deal,” she said, her lips curved into
a tight smile. She stepped close and raised the gun to my head.
“I’ll send you to your father and you can leave me the winery.”

I heard the click of the trigger as Charlie
shoved me to the floor. The loud blast so close to my head was
deafening and made my ears ring. I felt a spray of dampness hit my
cheek and turned to see Charlie lying slumped behind me, not
moving.

Alex stood over us, rage turning her features
ugly. She cursed at her father, who could no longer respond. Then
turned her attention to me. Her lips pulled back like a dog baring
his fangs and she raised the gun again.

“Drop your gun!” a voice yelled from the
doorway.

Moments later, Alex Becker was cuffed and on
her way out of the winery while her father was being placed on a
stretcher to be taken to the morgue. Handel pushed past the room
full of officers and scooped me up in his arms, holding me so tight
I thought I might pass out.

“Where’s Davy?” I managed to gasp out.

“Margaret called,” he mumbled against my ear.
“He was camping out in his closet. She found him asleep, curled up
on a pile of clothes.” He pulled back, his mouth grim.

I couldn’t help smiling despite the current
circumstances. Little boys play hide and seek and life goes on.
Handel leaned down and kissed me hard on the lips and I held him
there.

*****

The following week was a blur. Discovering
the depth of Alex Becker’s plan to make me appear depressed and
suicidal was frightening. Getting Charlie to go along with her
scheme was not so surprising. He desperately wanted his daughter
back in his life. But when he got involved I don’t think murder was
part of the plan. Planting the mask in the cellar where I would
find it, thus jumpstarting my dormant memories and sending me
packing back home to Minnesota, was probably as far as he wanted to
go.

Alex admitted having an affair with Jack the
year before he died. He confided in her about his guilt in hiding
Sean Parker’s crimes. Jack made his friend sign a confession and
used it and the pictures he found to blackmail him into leaving
town, the two things Sean had obviously been looking for in the
secret compartment of the frame.

The one thing Jack didn’t tell her was that
he was dying. Jack promised Alex that if I refused to run the
winery, he would have it revert to her in six months; although, he
died before he got around to actually changing the will that way.
Or perhaps he never really intended any such thing. Only Jack knew
and he wasn’t talking. But Alex figured with my history at the
winery, I would never want to stay, and with her ability to forge
Jack’s handwriting, she would make things work out in the end.

Sean Parker’s surprise return was a windfall
of good luck for Alex. With him around, she was sure that I would
fall apart and make her job easier. But as gamblers know all too
well, good luck is never a sure thing.

~~~

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T
he setting sun
melted into the horizon like molten iron, glowing reddish orange,
tinged pink at the edges. Mother and I sat on the front steps of
the house watching the day slowly wane, enjoying the evening breeze
and the quiet time after everyone had gone home from the
winery.