N
ice work,” Cecil said. He glanced at Beth. “I was going to get rid of her anyway.”
“I don’t think she’s dead,” Lucy said. “Not yet. She’s still bleeding.”
“She’ll be dead soon enough, another victim of the fire that destroyed the Colfax Winery.”
“This would be a really good time to cut your losses and get out of town, Cecil. No one is dead yet.”
“Actually, two people are dead. Sara Sheridan and Mary Colfax.”
“You killed them. When you realized the car was not going to explode in flames, you went down that hillside and used a rock to murder my aunt and her friend.”
“Beth told me about Manzanita Road. We drove there together to check it out. She’s the one who made sure the right bottles of water went into the picnic basket that day, but I’m the one who followed Sara and Mary and sent their car off that particular point on Manzanita Road. I couldn’t trust Beth not to screw up, you see.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Mary was dead by the time I got down to the bottom of the hillside. I’m pretty sure that Sara was dying, but she was still conscious. She couldn’t move, but she watched me with those weird eyes. She watched me pick up the rock. She knew what I was going to do and she just looked at me like she knew everything about me. She smiled.”
“How could you kill her like that?” Lucy whispered.
“She spoke, you know. There at the end. She said,
Karma.
And then she said,
You’re next.
It was like the bitch had put a curse on me. After that, everything started to go wrong.”
“You also tried to kill Mason on River Road.”
“No, that was Beth.” Cecil shook his head. “And the stupid woman did, indeed, screw up. I knew going in she was a risk, but I needed her help.”
“Beth was willing to help you because you made her believe that Colfax was plotting to bring in a new winemaker.”
“And also because I told her that I was a long-lost relative of Brinker’s, his half-brother, in fact. Unfortunately, Beth turned out to be something of a loose cannon.”
“You used her, but in the end you couldn’t control her, so now you’re going to kill her.”
“And you as well, I’m afraid. You can blame Beth for that. I never intended to get rid of you. I do realize it will draw Mason Fletcher’s attention.”
“You’ve got a real talent for understatement,” Lucy said. “There was a saying here in Summer River in the old days.
Don’t mess with Mason Fletcher
.”
“I’d rather not deal with Fletcher, but now that you’re involved, I don’t have any choice. I’m not concerned about him, to tell you the truth. Nothing in this situation connects with me. It will begin and end with Beth. She had motive, opportunity and access to drugs and a firearm. That will be enough.”
“You’re here to clean up all the loose ends, is that it?” Lucy said.
“Five minutes after meeting you I realized that you were going to be a problem. I could see it in those damned eyes of yours. They’re just like Sara Sheridan’s eyes. You’re the one who dragged Fletcher into this. I understand now why my dear, departed half-brother hated him so much.”
A shadow shifted in the gloom that enveloped a row of fermentation tanks behind Cecil. Or maybe it was just her fevered imagination, Lucy thought.
Keep him talking. The bastard has the same character flaws that Brinker had. He thinks he’s the smartest man in the room.
“I knew this would all come down to family,” Lucy said. “How did you find out that you were related to Brinker?” she asked.
“Pure chance.” Cecil smiled. “I grew up with nothing. My mother used to gripe about how her lover gave her a few thousand bucks and dumped her when she got pregnant. He told her to get an abortion and assumed she did just that. But she spent the money on dope. By the time I got old enough to ask questions, she was so deep into the drugs I couldn’t believe anything she said. After the old lady died, I found some photos in her closet. I got curious about my family history and went online.”
“You discovered that you were Jeffrey Brinker’s son and that he had ignored you in his will. So you started digging deeper.”
“Imagine my surprise when I realized how badly my old man had been shafted by Warner Colfax.”
“And how you, in turn, had been stiffed. You set out to get revenge.”
“That’s it in a nutshell.”
That shadow shifted again. This time Brinker noticed. He started to turn around.
Mason spoke from behind a gleaming tank.
“Down, Lucy.”
Lucy reacted instinctively to Mason’s command, throwing herself behind a row of casks.
Shots boomed in the room. Lucy heard a gun clatter on the floor.
“You damned son of a bitch,” Cecil grated.
Heavy footsteps echoed in the cavernous space.
Lucy peeked around the corner of the row of casks. She saw Cecil running toward the front door, clutching his shoulder.
Mason appeared from behind a tank.
“Get his gun,” he ordered.
He went after Cecil.
“He’s headed your way, Quinn,” he shouted.
Lucy managed to stagger to her feet. She emerged from behind the casks and started toward the gun. She got two steps before she felt the sharp pain in her bare foot. She halted, looked down and saw the blood.
“Damn, damn, damn.”
She raised her foot and yanked out the shard of broken glass. Blood rushed from the wound. It should have hurt, she thought, but she felt nothing, just a curiously numb sensation.
She limped forward a few more steps and scooped up Cecil’s weapon. She had never held a gun in her life. It was surprisingly heavy.
There was a commotion and some shouting from the other end of the winery. She made her way forward, trailing blood.
“Mason,” she yelled.
“Stay back,” he ordered.
She stopped, but she could see him now. He had his back to her, his gun in his hand. She took in the situation in an instant.
Warner Colfax was on his feet, dazed but very much aware of what was going on. Cecil had his injured arm around Colfax’s neck. There was a large, antique iron corkscrew in his good hand. The sharp tip of the corkscrew was aimed at Colfax’s throat. Colfax’s face was frozen with panic.
“Give it up, Dillon,” Mason said. “It’s over.”
“It’s Colfax’s fault,” Cecil said, his voice harsh with rage. “Everything. He cheated my father, and my father cheated me.”
“Killing him won’t fix any of it,” Mason said.
Colfax’s jaw worked. “I didn’t cheat Brinker, I swear it.”
“You lie,” Cecil said. “You knew he wasn’t thinking straight. He’d just found out he had a bad heart and his son had been declared dead. You took advantage of that to make him a lowball offer for his share of the company. I went back and read all the papers, you son of a bitch. This isn’t over until you go down.”
He pulled the iron corkscrew back a few inches, preparing to sink it deep into Colfax’s throat.
“No,” Colfax screamed. “No, please. I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
“I don’t want your money,” Cecil said. “I was going to destroy everything you had and walk away with millions. But that’s not going to happen now, so I want you dead. It’s the least I can do to avenge dear old Mom and Dad.”
Quinn loomed in the shadows. He had a bottle of wine in his hands. He brought it down on Cecil’s skull in a sweeping motion that sent Cecil pitching to the side.
Cecil grunted and collapsed, groaning.
Warner Colfax scrambled frantically away from the fallen man. He stared at Cecil, and then he looked at Quinn, uncomprehending.
Quinn gave him a thin smile. “So much for following your gut when it comes to hiring a CEO.”
The sirens were louder now. Lucy heard the first vehicles pull into the parking lot and screech to a halt.
Mason glanced at Lucy again. He started to speak. Then he noticed the blood leaking from her foot.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I stepped on some glass. Don’t worry. Some of the blood on the floor came from Cecil.”
Mason took the gun from her hand and gave it to Quinn.
“Keep an eye on them.”
“They’re not going anywhere,” Quinn said.
“Watch out for Beth. She’s unconscious back there near the lab, but she might wake up.”
“Understood,” Quinn said.
Mason tucked his own gun into the waistband of his trousers and scooped Lucy up into his arms.
“I’m okay, really,” she said.
He carried her out the door into the sunlight.
“We need a medic here,” he said in his cop’s voice.
Cops, firemen and medics were swarming across the parking lot. Deke and Joe emerged out of the controlled chaos. They headed toward Mason and Lucy.
“Is she all right?” Deke asked.
“I’m fine,” Lucy said. “It’s just blood.”
Someone in a uniform raced toward them, medical kit in hand.
“What have we go here?” he said.
He looked at Mason, not Lucy.
“It’s not that bad, really,” Lucy said.
Mason ignored her.
“Broken glass,” he said to the medic.
“Get her to the aid car,” the medic said. “I’ll take a look.”
Chief Whitaker materialized out of the crowd.
“What’s the situation inside?” he asked.
“Under control,” Mason said. “Quinn’s in charge in there. He’ll explain everything. Oh, yeah, you’ll need some medics too. Three people down, including Beth Crosby and Cecil Dillon. Those two are the bad guys.”
He moved around Whitaker and carried Lucy to the aid car, where the medic waited.
“It’s not that bad,” Lucy said. “Seriously.”
Mason ignored her.
T
wo days later they gathered on the front porch of Deke’s cabin for what Deke called a debriefing. Lucy was once again on the swing with Mason. His arm was draped around her shoulders, clamping her close to his side. It felt good. Okay, so he was inclined to be overprotective. It was not the worst character flaw in a man, not by a long shot.
Her injured foot was propped on one corner of the seat. A few stitches and a bandage were all she had to show for her close call.
Deke was in his usual position, leaning against the railing. He and Mason had hauled out a couple of kitchen chairs for Quinn and Jillian. Everyone had a glass of the lemonade that Lucy had made.
“I apologize for wasting so much of the Reserve,” she said. “I assure you, I would have gone with one of the less expensive Colfax labels if there had been an opportunity to browse the shelves.”
Quinn gave a little snort of laughter. “Worth every drop that was spilled. You can’t buy publicity this good. The news is spreading all over the Northern California wine country. If there’s one thing that people who love wine love even more, it’s a good story behind the wine. The old man’s Reserve is suddenly famous, and so is his winemaker, although maybe not in quite the way either of them had anticipated.”
Jillian smiled. “The market price of the Reserve just quadrupled in value. What’s more, the glow will spread to the other labels. When Warner gets past the shock of having to acknowledge his own bad judgment in wives and CEOs, he’ll be thrilled.”
“Hard to believe that everything that’s happened here in Summer River in the last few days had its origins in the past,” Quinn said.
Lucy used her toe to give the swing a little push. “In my work, we learn that lesson early on.”
“Got to say it’s usually true in my line, too,” Mason said.
Deke nodded somberly. “Goes for my former profession, that’s for damn sure.”
Quinn raised his brows. “War fighting?”
Deke sucked up some lemonade through the straw and nodded. “If you want to know what makes people fight wars, look at the history involved.”
Jillian turned to Mason. “What made you realize that you could trust Quinn this afternoon? Why call him on your way to the winery? Didn’t you think that he was the one who had drugged you and tried to force you into the river?”
Mason looked at Quinn. “You were on my list of suspects for a while. But something kept bothering me. You had no way of knowing I was going to show up in your office that day. It was possible, of course, that you kept a supply of the hallucinogen handy in your office to use on folks like me who came around asking too many questions. But I had seen Beth shortly before I spoke with you. She knew I was on my way to talk to you.”
“She realized that you were going to question me, and that made her very nervous,” Quinn said. “She told police that she called Dillon immediately and told him what was happening. She said there might be an opportunity to drug you because I always offer my guests something to drink. Evidently, Dillon tried to talk her out of it because he didn’t trust her to do the job right. But she ignored him. She got a supply of the drug from her lab and followed you into the tasting room.”
“No impulse control,” Mason said.
“When Quinn called Letty and requested the coffee and the tea, Beth saw her chance,” Jillian said. “She offered to pour the coffee and the tea because Letty was busy with the tourists out front. But she made sure that Letty was the one who carried the tray to the office.”
“Did you ever suspect Letty?” Quinn asked.
Mason shook his head. “Not for long. She had no close ties to the Colfaxes, Dillon or Summer River, for that matter. For her, working in the wine-tasting room was just a part-time job. But you took the tray from her when she came into the room and I heard you dealing with the sugar packet while my back was turned.”
“So I was the obvious suspect,” Quinn said. He looked at Lucy. “How did Beth manage to drug Sara and Mary?”
“Like most of the other longtime residents of Summer River she knew Sara and Mary’s routine,” Lucy said. “She was aware that when they made their weekend trips to the coast they always ordered a picnic basket from Becky’s Garden café. If the weather was good, they stopped to eat at the site of the old commune. On that particular day, Beth made sure to be at Becky’s when Sara arrived to pick up the basket.”
Deke spoke up. “Becky remembers that Beth was wearing a small backpack and that she offered to carry the basket out to the car. She went outside with the basket and stowed it in the back of Sara’s car while Sara and Mary paid the bill and chatted with Becky.”
“There were two plastic bottles of water in the picnic basket,” Mason added. “Beth replaced them with two bottles that she had brought with her in the backpack.”
“Which she had drugged and bottled and labeled herself,” Lucy said. “Just like she used to do in the old days when she supplied Brinker with his special energy drinks. There was some risk that Sara and Mary might not stop at the old commune site on that day, but the forecast was fine and Beth knew the odds were good that the two would follow their usual routine.”
“But it was Cecil Dillon who followed them and killed them,” Mason said.
“Bastard,” Lucy whispered.
Mason tightened his arm around her.
“How did Beth and Cecil Dillon meet?” Jillian asked.
“Dillon knew who she was right from the start,” Mason explained. “In fact, he knew who most of the players were before he formulated his plans, because he did his research.”
“But how did he learn Brinker’s secrets?” Jillian asked.
“When he discovered that he had a half-brother who had disappeared under mysterious circumstances and a wealthy father who had abandoned him, Dillon became obsessed with getting what he considered his rightful inheritance,” Lucy said. “He hit pay dirt when he tracked down Brinker’s elderly aunt.”
“Brinker was too smart to keep the rape videos and his notes in the house he rented here in Summer River that year,” Mason said. “Instead, he made periodic trips to San Francisco to visit his aunt. He stored the videos and the notes in a suitcase in her basement. And that’s where they sat until Cecil Dillon tracked her down. When he started asking questions about the half-brother he had never known, she felt sorry for him and gave him the only thing she had of Brinker’s.”
“The suitcase in the basement,” Quinn said. “The videos had probably deteriorated over time, but the notebooks would have been in good shape.”
“The videos were of no use to Dillon,” Mason said. “He wasn’t interested in small-time blackmail. But when he read the notebooks he knew that he had everything he needed to start plotting his revenge.”
A sharp, agonized look flashed across Jillian’s face. “What happened to the contents of the suitcase?”
“Dillon told the cops that he destroyed everything in the suitcase,” Mason said. “For what it’s worth, I’m inclined to believe him. So does Whitaker. Nothing showed up when the cops searched Dillon’s apartment and his office.”
Jillian bit her lip. Tears glittered in her eyes. “But there’s no way to be absolutely certain.”
Quinn reached out and caught her hand in his. “I told you, honey, it doesn’t matter. If those old videos ever reappear, we’ll deal with the situation.”
Jillian gave him a misty smile and tightened her grip on his hand.
Quinn looked at Mason. “I know Dillon. If he did keep the cache of blackmail materials, they would have been on his computer. He never let it out of his sight.”
“Which is where my brother, Aaron, comes in,” Mason said. “Whitaker asked Fletcher Consulting for a forensic analysis of Dillon’s computer. There was plenty of incriminating material, but it all related to concealing the financial disaster that Dillon had personally orchestrated inside Colfax Inc.”
“I knew he was up to something,” Quinn said. “I could feel it. But when I tried to talk to Dad about my concerns, he told me that he had a gut instinct when it came to identifying talent. He was convinced that Dillon was brilliant.”
“Dillon was every bit as good as his half-brother when it came to dazzling his victims with his charisma and charm,” Jillian said.
“A family talent, maybe,” Lucy said.
Mason looked at Jillian. “Aaron also did some poking around online. He couldn’t find any traces of the old videos.”
“But there’s no way to be certain, is there?” Jillian asked.
“No,” Quinn said. “But it doesn’t matter. You can’t give in to blackmail. If you do, there’s never any end to it. Just like you can’t give in to a dictator.” He grimaced. “Just ask me. When I think of all the years I tried to prove to my father that I was the man he wanted me to be—”
“Those days are over,” Jillian said.
He smiled at her. “Yes, they are.”
Lucy looked at Quinn and Jillian. “What happens now?”
“My father came to see me while I was cleaning out my office this morning,” Quinn said. “He’s still in shock, I think.”
Jillian sniffed. “Mostly at the realization that Quinn was the one who saved his life the other day.”
“Damned right you saved his ass, Quinn,” Mason said. “I would have tried a shot, but the odds of taking Dillon down before he stuck that old corkscrew into Warner’s throat were not great. Hell, I might have hit your father instead, for that matter. Or you, because you were right behind both of them. Dillon was bent on a final act of revenge, and that kind of obsession is hard to shut down when the avenger loses his self-control.”
Quinn shrugged that off. “Dad made it clear that he’s going to file for divorce from the brood—I mean, Ashley—and devote himself to rebuilding Colfax Inc. I wished him well. He offered to put me in charge of the winery.”
Jillian looked disgusted. “Warner assumed it was an offer that Quinn couldn’t, or wouldn’t, refuse.”
“I declined,” Quinn said. “Which infuriated the old man, because it puts him in a bind. He knows he can’t successfully revive the company and pay full attention to the winery. He’ll have to choose, and he knows it. I’m betting he’ll sell the winery.”
“Quinn and I have some plans of our own,” Jillian said. “We’re going to sell some of the properties we’ve acquired here in the valley during the past few years, thanks to Nolan Kelly’s advice and the inheritance from Aunt Mary. We’ll use the cash to buy and renovate the old Harvest Gold Inn on the square. We’re going to turn it into a real wine-country destination, complete with a spa.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned working at Colfax wines, it’s how to market the wine-country image and lifestyle,” Quinn said. “I can put the inn on the map.”
Lucy looked at Quinn. “At a rough estimate, what do you think my aunt’s old apple orchard is worth?”
Quinn gave her the number.
“Oh, my,” Lucy said. She smiled. “I guess Kelly wasn’t trying to con me after all.”
“No,” Quinn said. “Nolan was a damned good real estate agent.”
“What about the shares in Colfax Inc.?” Deke asked.
“They aren’t worth much at the moment,” Quinn said, “but my dad is very, very good at investing. If anyone can salvage the company, he can. I’d suggest that you hang on to them.”
“No,” Lucy said. “I’m going to give them to you. Those shares are your problem now.”