One Foot in the Grape (24 page)

This time it was Stephen to push away, backing toward the rear wall. “No, Veronica, I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore.”

He looked up and spotted me. “Penny, I want you to hear this too.”

I walked over beside Veronica.

Stephen took a deep breath. “I've tried to learn this business,
to understand the art of winemaking. All of the improvements that worked were Todd's ideas. It's true,” he added, cutting off any objections Veronica might have made. “I haven't had a single suggestion that's had any value since, well, ever. Then I figured a couple of bad years would make Mother come to her senses and remove me. I've insured, in my own way, that this year's vintages wouldn't meet with Martinelli standards.”

My thoughts went back to the last time I was in this building, back to the footsteps, the yeast and the broken bottle on the floor.

“You. You're the one sabotaging the wines. You're the one who ran from me that day.”

Stephen looked at the both of us. “I want out.”

“No,” Veronica said. “Don't say anything else.”

“Veronica, please.”

“I mean it, Stephen. I don't want to hear another word.” Veronica ran to the rear doors of the building and pulled them open. Lightning flashed, showing her outline as she disappeared into the wind and rain.

“We can't leave her alone out there.” I moved across the floor, Stephen behind me.

“I'm sorry she's disappointed in me, but I mean it, Penny. I don't want this. I won't pay the rest of my life just because I was born first.”

There, in the darkness, what I'd struggled to piece together was suddenly clear. Why hadn't I seen it before? Seen it in Stephen's clothing, in his driving. Heard it in Antonia's comments in the attic about children, birth certificates and the promise to her father for the firstborn to inherit.

I reached the door ahead of Stephen and stepped into the storm. The wind howled now and whipped rain across my face
and into my eyes. I strained to see Veronica in the night. The wind slammed the door and I turned. Veronica stood behind me. The door had an open padlock and as I watched her push it in place and lock it, the last pieces fell into place.

“It was you. You killed Todd. You killed Marvin too.”

She watched me through the rain. “You're just guessing.”

“No guess. It was Stephen's clothes and his driving that really gave it away.”

“What are you talking about? He can't drive or dress, but he doesn't do anything right. What does it matter?”

“Stephen can't match his clothes and he mixes up traffic signal colors.”

Veronica moved closer.

I backed away, not feeling land beneath my heels.

“Yeah, so?”

“Did you know Stephen is color-blind?”

Veronica clapped her hands. “Good guess, but who cares? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Joanne told me Todd's father was adopted. She also said he was killed in a car accident, probably because he had the same problem with the signals Stephen does. They can't distinguish between certain colors. Also, Todd said on the night you killed him that Joanne wasn't letting him help with the wedding plans because he was color-blind. It runs in families. Stephen and Todd were related.” I took a step toward her.

Veronica pulled a gun from her bag. “Keep going. Really, I must insist. What else gave it away?”

“The missing gun from the attic?”

She nodded. “Now talk.”

I eyed the gun. “I should have guessed before now. Antonia
said something the other day in the attic, looking at birth certificates. She said there were three of them. Why would she say that if she only had three children? Who else was she thinking of? Then last night, she said she gave something up, something to keep the winery.” I looked at Veronica. “Todd's father was Antonia's son, wasn't he?”

Veronica moved closer.

The ground shifted under my feet.

“Too bad you didn't figure it out earlier.”

I tried to not to stare at the gun. “Does Stephen know?”

Veronica pushed the hair from her face. There wasn't a hint of indecision as she laughed. “Stephen? I haven't told him anything, not for twenty-two years.”

She moved closer and, with the gun in my ribs, pushed me farther down the slope. I stumbled and risked a quick look. Fifty feet down, at least.

“You've been planning this for twenty-two years?”

“Of course not. I wouldn't have done anything if Todd hadn't come to work here, but he was with Antonia every day. There was too much risk she'd see something, hear something. What if Todd told her his father was given up for adoption? What if the dates came up? I didn't care how unlikely it was. You think I was going to take that chance?”

“How did you find out about Todd's father?” I glanced to the side. The path down to the festival grounds was somewhere to my left.

“I worked at the hospital, remember? A nurse, invisible, cleaning up after people. Little more than a servant. Then as a volunteer in the office. Much nicer. The records are all there, if you know where to look.”

The wind had calmed a bit and the rain had lessened. Connor must have realized we weren't behind him. Surely he'd come. “How did you get a copy of the birth certificate? I thought those things were kept locked.”

Veronica raised her voice. “I
said
I worked at the hospital. I made myself indispensable and had keys to the records and documents rooms. I showed a copy to Todd the night I killed him. At the crusher. I dropped it in. When he reached for it, well, then it was easy.”

“The torn paper that Lucas found. That's how you got Todd out there?”

Veronica nodded. “I said I needed to tell him something personal. Imagine”—she smiled—“just moments before he died, Todd found out Antonia was his grandmother.”

“How did you know Antonia had a child?”

Veronica shrugged. “When I started dating Stephen, I went through the family records. I wanted to know more about this family than anyone, and I do. I found the birth certificate and made a copy. It's nice to know things about people, isn't it? Imagine Antonia having a baby out of wedlock. My perfect, perfect mother-in-law with an illegitimate child. How do you think she'd feel, knowing she had her grandson right here and didn't even realize it?”

“Stephen was her legitimate heir. She might have decided to leave things as they are.”

Veronica laughed, holding the gun with both hands. “Do you think I've put up with Antonia all these years to take that chance? It's my destiny to run this winery.”

“Think, Veronica. Everyone knows we're out here, just the three of us.”

“Well, there are only two right now, and your falling
wouldn't be hard to believe. Accidents happen, and you're known for being impetuous. Besides, you haven't had a chance to tell anyone your theory, so why would anyone suspect I wanted to kill you?”

Damn. Good point.

“So what do we do now?”

“I need to run to get help for you.”

“I don't need help.”

“You will after you hit the bottom.” She swung the gun toward my shoulder. I turned away and heard a snap as the gun landed on my collarbone. The pain was blinding and brought my feet out from under me, but instead of falling backward off the hill, I twisted to the side. I landed in the mud on my knees and clung to the side of the slope.

Veronica moved above me, raised her foot and dug her heel into the back of my hand.

“I see you hurt your hand, Penny. Cut it in the woods last night?” She then raised her foot and kicked at my shoulder. The pain exploded in my head when she made contact with the broken bone, but I kept my grip on the jagged slope. Dirt and mud got under my nails. A rock sliced into my knee.

When she raised her leg to kick me again I ducked, and this time her foot glanced off my shoulder. I grabbed her leg and pulled her forward. Veronica screamed, dropped the gun and began to slide down the hill. She reached into the dark and grabbed my arm. We both slipped farther down the ledge. With my other hand, I searched the slope. Tree roots. I clung to them as Veronica pulled at my arm.

“Veronica!” I heard Stephen before I could see him. He was flat on the ground above me, his arm out over the ledge above my head.

My fingers slipped down the muddy roots.

Stephen looked at me. “Take my hands.”

“Get away from us,” Veronica said.

“Give it up. It's over.” I raised my eyes toward Stephen. “I can't hold the both of us.”

He pushed himself farther over the ledge and grasped my arm.

“You kicked her,” he watched his wife. “I saw you kick her. Why would you do such a thing and what's she talking about? What's over?”

Veronica dug her nails into my skin. “Everything. I'm losing everything, but I won't go back to what I had before.”

“Whatever you're afraid of losing, it isn't worth this,” Stephen said.

“That's because you've always had it. You don't know what's it's like to do without.”

Stephen tightened his grip on me. His jaw was set and he held my eyes. “I'm not letting go.”

I nodded, and he turned toward Veronica.

“It was you, wasn't it? For what? The winery? Is that all I'm good for?” He nodded at the field below. “Some lousy grapes? You've hurt people. Marvin and Todd didn't deserve to die. How could you do something so terrible?” He shook his head, a puzzled look on his face. “The worst part is you didn't need to, Veronica. All you had to do was ask. After it was mine, I would have given it to you if you wanted it that much. Just given it.”

Stephen faced me and, with determination I'd not suspected him capable of, he pulled at my arm.

I moaned as my shoulder strained and Veronica's nails dug into my skin. Stephen didn't let go and Veronica's grip tightened.

“I'm not letting go of her,” Veronica said. “If I go over the side, I'll take her with me. I swear.”

Stephen shook his head. “Don't add anything else to your list of regrets. You're still the woman I married. I think you loved me at one point. I know I loved you and I don't want anything to happen to you.”

“Look at what I've done. I could have had everything. We could have had it together.”

Stephen reached toward Veronica with his other arm. “I thought we did. Here, take my hand. You need help. We can find someone to help you.”

“It wasn't just for the winery. You've always been good to me and, in my own way, I really did love you.”

“I know. Take my hand.”

Veronica paused, then reached for Stephen just as he cried out. The world seemed to tilt before the slope slipped under our weight. Stephen grabbed for her, but the rain-soaked hill shifted and pulled her away. She raised her hands above her head to reach for him and appeared to hang, suspended, before she plunged into the darkness. I looked at Stephen through the rain, at what he clutched in his fingers. Pearls.

L
UCAS
didn't seem surprised when I turned up with my third body of the week, which worried me a bit. I didn't want this to become a habit. A medic wrapped my arm in a sling and cleaned and bandaged the scratches. As he worked, I told Lucas about Veronica. I asked if I could be the one to tell Antonia, and he nodded.

“We need to speak with Stephen, but I'll leave Antonia to you.”

I got the chance the next day with a knock on the front door.

She followed me into the sunroom, walked to the French doors and looked out at the vineyards. “We didn't get a chance to talk last night.”

“This can wait if you aren't ready.”

She raised her hand. “I wouldn't be here if I weren't ready
to talk about it.” She paused. “Before we talk, though, how are you?”

“I'm a little bruised and I've got a broken collarbone. Thanks for asking.” I couldn't help it; even I heard the surprise in my voice.

“What? I'm perfectly aware of the norms of social etiquette. I just don't choose to follow them often.” She paused. “I'm going to try to remedy that in the future.”

“That would be nice, Antonia.”

She nodded. “Now then, since we've established you're going to be fine, I will continue. I saw Stephen and know he doesn't want the winery. Also, I know he was the one responsible for the sabotage.” She shifted. “I suppose it could be said I didn't actually ask if he wanted to be in charge. It's something I've wanted for so long, sacrificed so much for, it didn't even occur to me that my largesse would be rebuffed.”

“Stephen loves you and wants you to be proud of him. He just needs to do something different with his life.”

Antonia nodded. “I understand that now. He's moving into the city. Wants a job in advertising. Maybe he can handle the advertising for the winery—”

“And maybe you should let him decide.”

She stopped and nodded. “I haven't had to change my ways in a long while. It's going to take some time. Now, Stephen said you knew Veronica killed Todd and Marvin. He didn't know how you knew. I want you to tell me.”

I thought back. “It was the picture. It was right in front of me in the picture.”

Antonia waved her hand and some of the old Antonia was visible. “Explain yourself.”

“It was the picture I took the day before the murder. Remember when you said the bushes were all overgrown and I should have waited?”

“You should have. The gardeners came two days later.”

“Exactly. Then it would have been too late. Don't you see? The shrubs were high above the winery office window. I watched the gardeners cut them away without putting it together. Veronica had an alibi because Marvin said he saw her from that window, when he couldn't possibly have seen into the kitchen because of the shrubs.”

Antonia looked at me and nodded. “That meant he saw her somewhere else.”

“I'm guessing when he brought his dinner tray back to the house, he saw her outside the fermenting building on her way to meet Todd. He knew she was lying when she said she was in the kitchen making tea. He'd just been in the kitchen. He knew she wasn't there.”

“So he gave her an alibi by saying he saw her there from the winery office, but it was impossible because the shrubs blocked the view.”

I nodded. “Then he had a chance to blackmail her.”

Antonia turned from the window. “Why? Why would Veronica murder Todd?”

I wasn't going to tell her Todd was her grandson. Maybe someday, but not now, so soon after she'd lost him and didn't even realize it. “Veronica didn't tell me. I'm not sure she had a plan. She was just afraid of anyone who threatened Stephen's position.” Antonia watched me for a moment then nodded.

I joined her at the window and spotted Chantal talking with Connor in the field. “Chantal came with you?”

“We're on our way to the clinic. She wants to try again.
For the first time, it's her idea.” Antonia smiled at me. “I have hope.”

I nodded. “It's a good first step.” I thought of Martinelli Winery and the loss of Todd, Marvin and even Veronica. “What will you do?”

She turned to me and there was a spark in her eyes. “To be honest, I wasn't ready to give up the reins just yet. Now I need to rebuild the brand name of Martinelli. The challenge will be invigorating. I'll need to decide on a new heir, one who will run it the way I want it run, but I don't need to decide that now.”

I thought of Francesca and what her conniving had cost Marilyn. I'd promised Francesca I wouldn't tell Antonia the story, and I'd keep that promise. On the other hand . . .

“At some point, ask Marilyn how Francesca purchased her land. Tell her I said for you to come. Tell her you want to hear the entire story.”

Antonia watched me for a moment. “I'll be sure to do that. And believe me, if I don't like the way it was handled, I'll make it right, even if I need to use Francesca's inheritance to do it.”

“I know you will.” She smiled and shrugged.

“Let's leave that for the time being. The only problem I have right now is that I don't have a winery manager.”

“The only manager I know who's really exceptional is Connor.”

“No doubt.” Antonia's eyes gazed out on the fields. She didn't turn to me and the silence lengthened. I knew she had an idea on how to solve her dilemma and I didn't think I was going to like it.

“I'm not giving him up without a fight, Antonia.” The thought of the winery without Connor was unthinkable.
Hayley wasn't ready but, beyond that, Connor was the heart of Joyeux. What the loss would mean to me was something I couldn't imagine.

Antonia's next words alleviated my worst fears. “I was thinking we could work something out. Our land is adjacent, which is a big plus. I realize we grow the same varietals but I have my own style of winemaking, as does Connor. Hayley needs Connor's guidance, but she's ready for more responsibility. And after this past week, I think we've proven we can work together. Besides”—she turned to look at me—“you're family.”

“We certainly have a lot of shared history.” I paused. “I never got a chance to thank you for helping Aunt Monique at the end.”

She didn't move. “You never need to. Now”—she turned toward the door—“I need to go.”

She walked down the path.

So many things had changed in just a week. The truth had been captured in a single photo, something I would never underestimate again. I thought about what Antonia wanted. There was probably a way for Connor to manage both wineries. Antonia would continue to make most of the decisions on Martinelli, while Connor would remain in charge of Joyeux Winery, with Hayley's help.

Antonia waved to Chantal and turned toward the car. Chantal wore a subdued, for her, black suit, the collar of a red blouse at the neckline. She walked with Connor and tucked her arm in his. Some things might have changed, but other things remained constant.

A twinge of annoyance went through me, as usual, and I opened the French doors to join
them.