Nolan nodded. "I'd only planned to confront the blackmailer. Tell him it was over—that if they want me silent about their identity, they'd leave me be."
"But then you saw it was her. The woman who had pretended to love you."
"She did love me!" he spat back, anger rising in an instant, contorting his face from the handsome TV star to something out of a horror movie. "She did! It was real! You hear me?"
"O-of course it was," I said quickly, fear and adrenaline surging as fast as his anger had, sticking in my chest like a lump. I glanced to Ava. I could see her lower lip quivering, the fear taking hold in her too.
Nolan's grip on his sanity was tentative at best.
And we were on borrowed time before it snapped completely.
I licked my lips. "So what did you do?" I asked softly as I felt the whiskey bottle slowly roll out from under the bed.
"What did I do?" he asked. "What did I do? I killed her! I grabbed her from behind and threw her over the fence. And I watched that magnificent creature crush the life out of her."
I winced, as if I could almost feel the physical pain of the blow myself.
"And then you went back to the party as if nothing had happened," Ava said, her lips still quivering. "Went back to flirting with me."
He paused in his tirade. "I had to. You were my alibi, my dear. You and your blind fandom, you wonderful idiot."
If he hadn't had us at gunpoint, I'd be tempted to smack him for insulting my friend that way. As it was, I put my hand on her leg again for support, hoping she felt the solidarity.
"And you kept your lunch date with her the next day," I said, wriggling my toes again, hoping to stall for just a few more minutes. How on earth was I going to get the whiskey bottle from the floor to my hands to somewhere close enough to Nolan to cause any damage before he got a shot off, I had no idea.
Nolan nodded. "I'd seen you talking with that detective," he told me. "I felt like you were close. I wanted to know what the police where thinking, and Ava felt like my best way to stay in the loop. Make sure they weren't looking in my direction."
Which they weren't. And still wouldn't be, I realized with a sinking feeling.
"That's why you made a date with me the following night too?" Ava asked, her voice still radiating hurt.
"Of course," he said simply.
"The one where you came home to find me knocked out," I said, putting it together. "But it couldn't have been you sneaking around in Harper's room at Carrie's house that night. You actually were with Ava."
He nodded. "I was. Right up until we arrived at Carrie's house and saw someone with a flashlight in the upstairs window."
"So someone else hit me over the head?" I asked.
Nolan chuckled. "While I could let them take all of the credit, the truth is as soon as I rushed upstairs and saw you lurking around, I knew I was in trouble. You just couldn't mind your own business, could you?"
Trust me—in that moment I really wished I could.
"So you hit her?" Ava breathed. I could see her going through the events in her mind—including the deceit he had employed on her that night.
"It was just supposed to be a warning. Enough to get her to keep her nose out of Harper's business. I knew the more she dug, the closer she'd get to the truth."
"And to you," Ava added.
Nolan nodded. "She'd been at the house asking questions about blackmail, and then I find her snooping around the guest rooms? I knew she was looking for Harper's second phone."
We'd been right. Harper's killer had taken it. "You have it?" I asked.
"Had. It's long gone now."
Rats. "So you hit me on the head that night then pretended to have found me that way?" I asked.
"Now that was some of my finest acting work." He preened as if one of us might give him a gold statuette for it.
"Then who was it I saw going through Harper's things in the first place?"
Nolan shrugged, palms up. "Search me. But if I were floating the police a theory, I'd point the finger at the cowboy."
"Tripp?" I asked. Honestly, he'd have been my first guess at the time too.
Nolan nodded. "The way I see it, Tripp killed Harper, stole her blackmail proceeds, then skipped town."
While I knew he was making up a story, I could see some truth in two out of three of those statements.
"Only, you two girls come snooping around his trailer. Again—"
I cut a questioning look to Ava.
Nolan must have seen it too, because he said, "Oh yes, Ava told me all about that too."
Ava mouthed the word sorry in my direction. I sent her a smile. How could she have known?
"—and Tripp decided you had to go before he disappeared forever," Nolan continued his narrative. "So he shot you both."
He raised the gun, pointing it directly at Ava's head.
Panic rushed through me. It was now or never.
In one quick movement, I reached down and grabbed the whiskey bottle, screamed to draw his attention, lunged toward him, and swung with all I had. The bottle collided with the side of his head, and shards of broken glass shattered over us both.
He yelled as blood gushed from a cut to his temple, and he shifted focus, turning the gun in my direction. I instinctively raised my arms, ready to protect myself from a bullet, when Ava pulled both feet up and kicked out against his body.
He surged backward, slamming into the closed bedroom door.
I reached for his right hand, aiming to wrestle him for the gun in his stunned state. But before I could make a grab for it, the back of his left hand connected with my cheek. Stars flitted momentarily in my eyes before I landed on the vinyl floor with a thud.
Before I could get my bearings again, I felt his fist grab at the back of my shirt, lifting me up and shoving me into the wall, where I collided with a poster of a girl in a bikini.
My head was taking a beating, and the room was a little fuzzy, but I sucked in air, trying to remain steady on my feet as I spun around to face him again. Only before I could do more than cry out, his fingers wrapped around my throat. I gasped for air as he squeezed, his face contorted with rage. Darkness threatened the outer edges of my vision, but I hung on to consciousness, my hands flailing in front of me, scratching at his face.
"Emmy!" Ava cried behind me. I heard a thud as she wriggled off the bed and fell to the floor, hands still tied behind her back.
"Quiet, you moron!" Nolan yelled to her.
I didn't like his tone at all, so I brought my knee up between his legs. As I connected squarely with my target, Nolan groaned. His grip on my throat loosened, and I gulped in a big lungful of air.
Unfortunately, he was quick to recover, reaching out with the back of his hand again and giving my other cheek a swat that had me crumpling to the floor beside Ava.
"Are you okay?" she asked, inch-worming herself to me.
"Enough!" Nolan yelled.
I blinked, looking up to find him towering over us, gun in hand, a trail of blood running down the left side of his face. He was breathing hard, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth as he panted.
"Enough of all of this!" he yelled, his voice getting louder and more maniacal with each word. "I'm ending it now, and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it—"
The last word froze on his lips. I watched as his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand holding the gun go limp. A second later his body melted to the floor like it was made of rubber, barely missing us as he crashed-landed on the hard vinyl.
I blinked, looking from Nolan's prone form to the doorway.
To find David Allen standing there, a heavy dumbbell in hand, raised above his head like a baseball bat that had just hit a home run to the back of Nolan Becker's head.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The events of the next few hours were a blur of tears, relief, medics, and police officers. As soon as David had secured Nolan's gun, untied Ava, and ascertained that neither Ava nor I had any life threatening
injuries, he'd promptly called 9-1-1. As he'd given a shortened version of events to the dispatcher—who promised every kind of help at her disposal was on its way—Ava had used her former bonds to tie up Nolan. While she'd said it was in case he regained consciousness, I had a feeling it was at least partly revenge, by the way she pulled the ropes extra tight.
I wasn't sure how long the three of us sat there waiting for the authorities, the mixture of panic, relief, adrenaline, and shock rendering us largely mute and physically weak. But I did manage to get from David that after not getting any response to any of his recent texts to me, he'd started to worry. He'd driven up to Oak Valley to check on me, where he'd arrived just in time to see my Jeep speeding in the other direction as I'd hurried to answer Ava's call.
On instinct, he'd followed. He said he would have intervened sooner, but he'd lost sight of me just before the turnoff to Rosebay Meadows and had spent a few minutes driving around the surrounding streets before finally finding my Jeep parked at the top of the hill. He'd arrived just in time to hear Nolan screaming at Ava to be quiet.
I told him his timing had been perfect.
A police officer was first to arrive on the scene, filling the sleepy road with flashing red and blue lights and sirens, and several other emergency response vehicles quickly followed. They split the three of us up—paramedics descending on Ava and me, and uniformed officers pulling David aside to get his story.
Once my injuries had been assessed as just nasty bumps and bruises, I gave my version of events to at least three separate people, detailing Nolan's confession and David's heroic arrival. By the time I was finishing the third round, Nolan had regained consciousness and I heard him being read his rights as he was handcuffed to a gurney and loaded into the back of an ambulance. I didn't think I was being too mean that I hoped he recovered fully and quickly so he could stand trial and feel the full force of justice.
"Emmy?"
I turned from the sight of Nolan being wheeled away to find Grant striding purposefully toward me, a frown etched on his face.
"Emmy, are you alright?" he asked, suddenly at my side. The hazel flecks in his eyes were running a mile a minute, and his eyebrows were drawn in obvious concern.
I nodded, trying to put on a brave face. "I'm good."
His eyes roved my person, not showing any sign of relief at my words. "You don't look so good."
"Gee, thanks," I said, trying at humor.
His eyes met mine. "You sure you're okay?"
I felt tears prickling at my eyelids, but I blinked them away, nodding. "I'll be fine. Thanks to David," I added, giving credit where credit was due.
"Yeah, I heard he was the man of the hour." Grant's face was a blank, though his tone didn't seem totally pleased.
"He's not going to be in any trouble, is he?" I asked. "I mean, for knocking Nolan unconscious?" I peeked around Grant's frame to where David was shifting nervously from foot to foot beside a uniformed officer. Then again, David never looked too comfortable in the presence of law enforcement. Considering he made his living off of illegal card games, I could hardly blame him.
"No. It's being considered self-defense. Or in this case, defense of others. No charges will be brought."
"Good." I nodded. "Does he know that?"
That did elicit a small smile from Grant. "I might make him sweat it for a couple more minutes."
I gave him a playful swat on the arm.
He chuckled in earnest before asking, "So think you can tell me what happened?"
I sucked in a breath, feeling a little stronger now that he'd lightened the mood a bit. "I think so."
"And don't leave anything out this time," he warned, giving me another knowing smile.
I didn't, giving him the full, unedited version of events, including filling in all the missing bits of incriminating activities Ava and I had engaged in to get to that point. I'd like to say they'd all helped lead me right to the killer's identity, but the honest truth was I'd been as clueless as Ava when it had come to Nolan's real personality. That was one thing I had to hand to him—he'd been a heck of a good actor. Unfortunately, the only people who would be appreciating his skills now would be the population of the California penal system.
By the time I was done with my narrative, I was mentally and physically drained, and Grant had a deep frown etched on his face. I could tell he was trying hard to stay in Cop Mode and treat me like any other witness. But as I finished with how Nolan had been pointing his gun at me just before David burst in, Cop Mode melted and Grant pulled me in close for the tightest hug on record.
Not that I minded. If I'd have had my way, I would have stayed locked in his warm, safe arms like that forever.
As it was, it was over much too soon. He pulled away, his intense gaze meeting mine.
"Don't do this to me again," he said, his voice low and husky. "My heart can't take it."
I swallowed hard, trying to decipher if he feared an actual heart attack or was developing real feelings for me. And wondering which was more dangerous.
"I won't," I promised.
He narrowed his eyes, his mouth curving up ever so slightly at the corners. "Liar."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, on my honor, I promise I will try very hard to stay out of harm's way."
"I guess that's the best I'm going to get out of you, huh?" He grinned in earnest.
I matched it, nodding.
He leaned in and gave my lips one feather light kiss, causing my body to have an instant hot flash.
I was still reveling in the sensation when he pulled back.
"I have to process this crime scene you've created," he told me.
I might have whined a little.
He grinned in response. "But I'm going to have Officer Green make sure you get home safely."
"Sure you don't want to see to that personally?" I asked. "You never know what trouble I might get into on the way home."
He chuckled again. "Trust me—I would much rather be going home with you."
Oh boy. There went that hot flash again.
"But," he continued, "I promise you this—I am taking you on a real date soon."
"Oh?" I asked, liking the sound of that.
He nodded. "Uh-huh. As I recall, a real date is just the two of us, out for dinner, preferably at Silvio's."
I couldn't help the smile spreading across my face. "That's some attention to detail, Detective Grant."
"That's kind of my job, Ms. Oak," he replied, giving me a wink before he waved over an officer in a brown sheriff's uniform.
After instructing the man to drive Ava and me home and see us safely inside, Grant leaned in and gave my lips one more deliciously too-short kiss before pulling himself back into Cop Mode and joining the swarm of officers inside Tripp's trailer.
* * *
"So Nolan had been lying to us all along," Carrie mused, shaking her golden locks back and forth in bewilderment at how her former friend could have been so deceitful.
"Then again, so was Harper," her husband, Bert, reminded her.
I didn't point out that he hadn't been completely honest throughout either. Mostly because it was rude to insult your host.
It had been a week since Nolan's arrest, and the tabloid press had finally settled down enough that Carrie and Bert had been able to leave the house without being accosted by paparazzi. They'd invited Ava, David, and me over for drinks to thank us for helping to clear Bert of all charges as well as enjoy an early spring evening on their patio near the fire pit.
"I can't believe that I fell for Nolan's charm," Ava said as she grabbed her glass of Oak Valley Chardonnay, supplied by yours truly. "I feel like such a fool."
"There's no way you could have known," I told her, trying to soothe her wounded ego.
"Well, I can tell you one thing—I'm off actors and doctors for good!" she said.
We all laughed, and I thought I detected David looking pleased beside her.
"You know," he said. "I knew I recog
nized Nolan when I first met him. And it wasn't from his TV show."
I shot him a look. "Oh no. Don't tell me you've seen his other films?"
He did an innocent palms-up thing. "What? I'm not allowed to have a healthy libido?"
I sipped from my glass, the subject of David's libido not one I wanted to delve into. "Anyway," I went on, "Grant told me that Nolan made a full confession at his arraignment, and he's entered a guilty plea."
"He'd have a hard time claiming not guilty after what he told us!" Ava noted.
I nodded. "True. And I think he's banking on the judge going lightly on a celebrity."
Carrie snorted. "I hope not! That man deserves everything that's coming to him."
While I had to agree, I knew a reduced sentence in this case likely meant life in prison rather than the death penalty—and neither one sounded like a picnic to me.
"With charges of homicide, as well as the kidnapping of Ava and assault to both of us, I'm pretty sure he won't be seeing the outside of a cell for a long time," I assured her.
"You realize that's twice I've been the white knight coming to your rescue," David told me with a wink.
"And I thank you," I told him, meaning it. "From the bottom of my heart."
My sincerity must have caught him off guard a little, as his usual sardonic smiled faltered. "Well, just promise to keep me in the loop next time."
"How about I promise there will be no next time instead," I said.
David let out a bark of laughter. "I'll believe that when I see it."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Carrie's new housekeeper, Sandra, arrived then from the kitchen with a tray of fruit and cheese in hand.
Turns out that when Carrie had gotten Bert home, she'd contacted Sandra about the memorial arrangements again only to find out that Sandra had been fired from the Bishops' employ. Carrie had immediately offered her a job.
Never mind that Kellen Bishop-Brice had offered to rehire Sandra again once Morgan had made his confession about where their unnoticeable little treasures had been going. Carrie offered to match what the Bishops had paid Sandra, and Sandra had figured that working for Carrie versus Kellen was a no brainer. At least that was what she'd told me when she'd answered Carrie's front door that afternoon.
Death in Wine Country (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 5) Page 21
