River Road

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  “No.” Quinn rose and went to stand at the window. “Furthermore, I’m strongly inclined to doubt it. I think there would have been some talk if that were the case. What I’m trying to tell you is that there is no reason to think his standards have improved. He wasn’t above doing something illegal if he thought he could get away with it.”

  There was a light tap on the door. Quinn crossed the room to open it. The young woman who had been pouring wine for the tourists out front stood in the hall. She held a tray with two mugs. One mug had a tea bag string hanging over the edge.

  “Thanks, Letty.” Quinn took the tray from her and set it down on a side table. “That’s all for now. Please tell Meredith to hold my calls until we’re finished here.”

  “Yes, Mr. Colfax.”

  Letty left, closing the door behind her.

  Mason went to the window and looked out at the rolling, vineyard-covered hills.

  “Sugar or cream?” Quinn asked.

  Ever the gracious host, Mason thought. He did not turn around.

  “Black,” he said.

  Behind him, he heard Quinn open a sugar packet.

  “Nice view,” Mason said.

  “If you like vineyards.”

  Mason turned away from the view. Quinn handed him the mug of coffee and picked up his tea.

  “You might as well sit down,” Quinn said. He went behind his desk and lowered himself into his own chair.

  Mason took one of the two chairs that faced Quinn. He tried a sip of the coffee. It was good. Probably freshly ground, using beans ethically sourced from an organic farm that used sustainable growing and harvesting techniques, this being Summer River and all.

  Quinn drank some tea.

  “Have you ever wondered what happened to Brinker’s accomplice?” Mason asked.

  “Accomplice?” Quinn stiffened. A little tea splashed over the rim of his mug. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I pulled the old police files relating to the Scorecard Rapist. There was some indication that there was a second person involved in the rapes.”

  “I never heard that.” Quinn scowled. “What are you getting at?”

  “When you think about it, there are at least two people who might have had reason to worry after Brinker’s body fell out of the fireplace the other night. The accomplice and the person who was supplying the drugs to Brinker.”

  “I told you, Brinker got his drugs from Nolan Kelly.” Quinn swept that issue aside. “But what’s this about an accomplice?”

  Mason took another sip of the coffee. “It was just a theory at the time. Makes you wonder, though.”

  “You’re going way out on a limb here, Fletcher. But say you’re right. Maybe there was an accomplice. Seems to me the most likely suspect would have been Kelly. He would have done anything to get close to the guy with all the power.”

  “The power broker being Brinker?”

  Quinn’s mouth tightened. “Yeah.”

  Mason drank some more of the coffee and looked at the photos on the wall. “If there was a second person involved in the rapes, there’s reason to think that individual was handy with a camera.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Quinn said. He put his mug down very carefully. His eyes went hard. “Are you accusing me of being the second rapist just because I’ve got some photos hanging on my wall?”

  “I’m not making any accusations—not yet. Just asking questions.”

  “You want a suspect who was good with a camera?” Quinn said, his voice tight with rage. “Kelly fits the profile.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Who do you think took all the photos and videos of his listings? Kelly did his own marketing work. He was very good at it, too. Check out his website.” Quinn groaned and slumped deep into his chair. “Look, I’m sorry I lost my temper, but you have to admit that when you barge into a man’s office and accuse him of aiding and abetting rape, you’ve got to expect some pushback.”

  “Sure.”

  “I swear I had nothing to do with the videos.”

  “You were as close to Brinker as anyone that summer. Are you saying you didn’t know he was the Scorecard Rapist?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Quinn rubbed the back of his neck. “But you’re right. I probably knew Brinker better than most. And you know what that amounted to? Virtually nothing. In spite of all the teens who flocked around him, Brinker was the ultimate loner. He kept his secrets.”

  “What did Brinker say and do that night after I left the two of you alone together at the ranch?”

  “Brinker was in a rage, of course. I’d never seen him like that. Behind that smile he was ice-cold. But after you left, he really went off. Made a lot of threats. Said he’d make you pay and pay and pay. At the time I didn’t know how much to believe. But he scared the shit out of me, I can tell you that much.”

  “Did he threaten to kill me?”

  Quinn’s jaw tightened. “No, at least not immediately. He wanted to torture you first. He wanted you to suffer. He wanted to humiliate you and hurt you.”

  “How did he intend to do that?”

  Quinn rose and went to stand at the window, his back to Mason.

  “He said that the best way to crush you was to go after Sara and Lucy Sheridan. When he was finished with them, he planned to do something to your brother. He didn’t get specific.”

  “But he mentioned Sara Sheridan by name?”

  “Yeah. I could tell he hated her, maybe even feared her for some reason.”

  “Why?”

  Quinn turned around. “I have absolutely no idea. It made no sense at the time. But that night when he was wild-eyed with rage, for some reason he blamed her.”

  “For what?”

  Quinn shook his head. “I don’t know. I swear to you I don’t have any idea what he was talking about. He was crazy mad. After you left, I got into my car and I went home. I was freaked, let me tell you. The next day Brinker left town. I never saw him again. I figured the threats he had made were all bluster. But within twenty-four hours he was reported as missing. Everyone started to talk about a drug-deal-gone-bad scenario. I wanted to believe that, but—”

  “What?”

  “Brinker was very careful when it came to the drugs. I couldn’t see him making a connection directly. He used Kelly as the broker. And I could tell that Kelly had no idea what had happened to Brinker. In fact, I got the impression that Nolan Kelly was as relieved as everyone else when word went around that Brinker was probably dead.”

  “How did you and Brinker end up as buddies that summer? The two of you didn’t have a lot in common as far as I could tell, aside from the fact that your fathers were partners, that is.”

  Quinn’s mouth twisted into a humorless smile. “Here’s a nice slice of irony for you. My old man figured Brinker was a good role model for me.”

  The sunlight slanting through the window behind Quinn had become uncomfortably bright. Mason decided it was time to leave. He set the mug down on the desk.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” he said. He got to his feet and went to the door. The knob was very cold to the touch. He paused and looked back at Quinn.

  “After Brinker was reported missing, what did you think had happened?” he asked.

  “I assumed he was playing some game at first,” Quinn said. “But when the authorities concluded that he was dead, I decided that you had probably killed him.”

  The sunlight was painful now. Mason took out his sunglasses and put them on. “Is that what you told the cops?”

  “No,” Quinn said. “I just said that there had been an argument between you and Brinker, but that’s all. As far as I was concerned, if you had killed him, you’d done me and a lot of other people a favor.”

 
Mason opened the door. The knob had been cold a few seconds ago, but now it felt like it was made of ice.

  “One thing you might want to know,” Quinn said quietly.

  Mason looked at him. “What?”

  “I did warn one person about Brinker’s threats.”

  A knowing sensation crackled through Mason. “You told Sara Sheridan that he had threatened to hurt her and Lucy and my brother, and that he would probably go after me eventually.”

  “I couldn’t sleep that night. I got out of bed about four in the morning, dressed and drove out to the orchard. I parked in the trees and walked the rest of the way to her house. I never even got a chance to knock on the door. It was as if Sara had been waiting for me—or maybe keeping watch at the window. She came out onto the back porch in her robe. I told her about the threats that Brinker had made. We spoke in whispers. I knew she didn’t want to wake Lucy.”

  “What did Sara do after you told her your story?”

  “She smiled at me in that way she had, as if she could see straight through you and knew all your secrets. She thanked me and told me that she would take care of everything. And then she told me to go home and forget that I had ever talked to her. She said Brinker must never find out, because there was no telling what he would do. She was right.”

  “Talk about a coincidence. I had a similar conversation with her later that same morning.”

  There was a short silence. The office was starting to look like a brilliantly lit stage.

  “It never occurred to you that she was the one who killed Brinker?” Mason said.

  “No.” Quinn gave a weak laugh. “I mean, Sara Sheridan? A murderer? She was first in line at the antiwar protests. She led classes in meditation and yoga. She was vegan before vegan was cool.”

  “You’ve got to watch out for those vegans,” Mason said.

  37

  He let himself out into the hall and closed the door. He stood still for a moment, wondering why it was so dark. Belatedly, he remembered that he was wearing his sunglasses. He took them off, stuffed them into his shirt pocket and walked into the tasting room. The wine tourists were gone. So was Letty.

  He went outside. The glare of the sun was so dazzling it hurt his eyes. He fumbled with his sunglasses, got them on again and made his way down the broad steps to the parking lot.

  He climbed behind the wheel and sat quietly for a moment, enchanted by the way the sun filtered through the leaves of the trees and splashed on the ground. Liquid gold. He would like to make love to Lucy in the beautiful light. But Lucy was not here. He needed to find her.

  He got the car going after a couple of tries and drove out of the parking lot. The road that followed the river seemed to have more curves than he remembered. It twisted into infinity. He was struck with a sudden flash of insight. The answers he was looking for were at the end of River Road. All he had to do was keep driving. Lucy would be waiting for him.

  The world had a crystalline purity, as if his vision had been enhanced. Everything from the boughs of the trees to the white lines on the pavement was as sharp and clear as if it had been made of glass. The colors were amazing. He had never been so aware of the many shades of nature.

  Even the scene in his rearview mirror was vivid. The large black SUV coming up fast behind him had a cinematic quality. He laughed, wondering if he had accidentally taken a wrong turn and driven into a movie.

  The SUV was closer now. The windows were heavily tinted. He could not make out the driver’s face. Probably a stuntman. It was starting to look like one of those films in which the bad guy tried to force the good guy off the road.

  Just as someone had forced Sara and Mary off the road.

  But the accident had happened out on Manzanita Road. This was River Road.

  He wondered if he should tell the stunt driver that he was on the wrong road.

  The lookout point above the river was coming up soon. One more curve.

  The SUV pulled out to pass. Now, that was just stupid. It was also illegal as hell. But this was a movie. The bad guys did stupid, illegal things in films and got away with it, at least until the very end.

  Okay, fine. If the bad guy wanted to risk his neck passing on a curve, that was his problem.

  But he didn’t want to be in a movie, Mason thought. He wanted to find Lucy and make love to her in the liquid-gold sunlight streaming through the trees. Oh, yeah, and find the answers at the end of the ride.

  The big SUV was alongside now. Close. Way too close. Suddenly the script became crystal clear, just like everything else. This was it, the big scene where the bad guy tried to send the good guy over a cliff.

  But the good guy was not in a mood to act. He just wanted to find Lucy. Damned stuntman was in the way.

  Mason hit the brakes hard, slamming to a halt. There was a screech of metal as the rear fender of the SUV clipped the front of the car.

  The stunt driver must not have expected that change in the script, because the SUV overcorrected wildly, barely managing to stay on the pavement. In the next instant it was gone, vanishing around the next curve.

  Mason sat quietly for a time, contemplating the view through the windshield. Adrenaline flooded through him, temporarily clearing his thoughts. He eased the car onto the lay-by and shut down the engine.

  The dazzling sunlight and the crystalline world blazed around him. He was once again lost in the wonder of it all. Where had he been going? Lucy. He was on his way to find Lucy. But for some reason he did not think it would be a good idea to drive any farther.

  He took out his phone and looked at it for a while, admiring the illuminated screen. Who did he want to call?

  Lucy.

  With exquisite care he tapped the screen with her name on it. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hi,” he said. “I want to make love to you, but I don’t know if there’s going to be time because I might die. So I called to say good-bye.”

  “Mason. What’s wrong?”

  “I was in this movie and the stuntman tried to force me off the road.”

  “Good grief. You sound drunk.”

  “Nope. Just had a cup of coffee is all.”

  “Where are you?”

  “River Road, I think. Let me check.” He surveyed his surroundings. “Everything is very sparkly, but I’m pretty sure it’s River Road.”

  “Where on River Road?” She sounded tense but very patient, as if speaking to a child.

  “Lookout Point,” he said. “You know, that place where the tourists pull over to take pictures of the river.”

  “Lookout Point? You’re sure?”

  “Pretty sure.” He heard a heavy engine revving in the distance. “Oops, gotta go. I think the stuntman is coming back.”

  “What stuntman? Listen, don’t move. Do you understand? Stay right where you are. Deke and I are on our way.”

  “Good-bye, Lucy.”

  The big vehicle was coming closer now. The engine was slowing.

  “I think I should get out of the car,” Mason said.

  He cut the connection and fumbled with the seat belt. Another wave of adrenaline sluiced through him. He managed to get the gun out of the glove compartment and then proceeded to engage in close-quarter combat with the door until he got it open. He stumbled toward the trees, not sure why he needed to get out of sight but not questioning the instinct.

  His head was spinning, but he made it into the woods. He hunkered down behind some rocks and waited, the gun clutched in both hands. There was a small pool of the liquid-gold sunshine nearby. He watched it, fascinated.

  He heard the vehicle cruise slowly past the lay-by, but it did not stop. Mason remembered that he had left the driver’s-side door of the car open. He wondered what the person behind the wheel of the SUV made of that.

  Probably
thinks I jumped into the river. Joke’s on him.

  He heard the big engine rev once more, an angry predator deprived of its prey. And then the SUV was gone.

  Mason put the gun down very carefully on a rock and sat there, losing himself in the wonders of the crystalline landscape and thinking about Lucy until he heard another vehicle arrive. Tires squealed. Car doors slammed.

  “Mason?”

  Lucy’s voice pulled him to his feet. He collected the gun and worked his way back through the trees. He saw her standing at the guardrail, staring down at the river, anguish on her face. She was not alone. Deke was with her.

  “Hi,” Mason said.

  Lucy whirled around at the sound of his voice. So did Deke.

  “Mason,” Lucy said. “Dear heaven. For a moment there we thought . . . Never mind.”

  She rushed toward him.

  “What the hell is going on?” Deke demanded, striding across the graveled lay-by. “Here, give me that gun. You’re in no condition to handle it.”

  “I know,” Mason said. “Couldn’t think of anything else, though. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Another wave of dizziness swept over him. He gave the gun to Deke.

  And then Lucy was in his arms and that was all that mattered. He stopped fighting the darkness and fell into the deep.

  38

  The movie continues . . .

  CUT TO:

  EMERGENCY ROOM

  There is a team of medical personnel dressed in scrubs. Lucy is standing at the foot of the bed, anxious. Deke is behind her, one hand on her shoulder. He is grim-faced.

  DOCTOR

  No signs of trauma. Vitals normal.

  Doctor checks patient’s arms and then moves to foot of bed, forcing Lucy to step back. Doctor examines patient between the toes.

  DOCTOR

  No needle tracks.

  LUCY

  Outraged.

  Of course there are no needle tracks. Mason doesn’t do drugs.

  DOCTOR

  With AMS, we have to assume drugs are a possibility. We’ll know more when the labs come back.