by Cait London
Blood mixed with wine on Eugene’s forehead as he sighed. He dropped the hammer he had been using on the empty metal barrel next to him. The old man’s voice was uneven and raspy. “I’m tired, Nick. Been down here awhile. Came down here to see about the noise and got clobbered. Didn’t see who. My leg is hurting bad. I been in and out, but Nick—Nick, I had to drink something. I crawled over to the cases of Alyssa and found a bottle. The rest has been smashed to smithereens. I heard the forklift run by me and managed to roll against the wall, playing dead.”
“You’ll be fine, Eugene. I’ll get help. Just hold still.”
Eugene caught his arm. “But, Nick. All those bottles of Alyssa—gone. That wine was special to you—”
“Eugene, stop. It’s just glass and wine, not your life, and not a woman.”
The old man’s eyes drifted closed. “You’ve moved on. I knew Maggie would be good for you…”
Nick’s eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior of Ed’s tavern. With Eugene in the clinic, Nick had given the police chief, his cousin Lorenzo, the basics, and had arranged to answer in-depth questions later.
A crime-scene truck had been ordered with a team of experts Blanchefleur did not have, and there was enough yellow tape around Nick’s winery to stretch to China. Police cars studded the parking lot, and the state of Michigan would be involved; Nick’s wine had been bonded, making certain the state got its cut.
Dante and Maggie, both worried about Eugene, were at the clinic. And right now, after checking on the old man, Nick had an appointment with Ed; he wanted to get to the tavern owner before anyone else.
Seedy, old, and layered with brawls, under-the-table deals, and sex, Ed’s Place served as a hangout for locals and fascinated tourists. Ed had been known to arrange private parties, such as the one for Maggie, and known prostitutes favored the bar. In the early afternoon, the tavern was closed and vibrating with country music. Stacking glasses behind the bar, the bartender had his back to Nick, his head bobbing to the beat of the music.
Shirley, a barmaid who catered to male tourists, and Ed’s longtime, on-and-off girlfriend—when he wasn’t busy with another woman—stood facing the door and laughing up at Ed. Beneath her hard makeup and mass of overteased hair, her eyes widened fearfully when she recognized Nick. She slid along the bar and hurried into the back room.
When Nick pulled the plug on the jukebox, Ed looked into the bar’s mirror and found him. His body tensed, his expression one of surprise before he pulled on his insolent mask.
“Hello, Ed,” Nick said quietly as he slid onto a bar stool. He smiled, belying the anger running inside him. He picked up a quarter lying on the bar and flipped it. It gave him something to do when he really wanted to haul Ed across the bar. “I thought I’d drop in and see how your inventory of wine is doing.”
“You’re not making me buy any.” Ed poured himself a whiskey neat and drank it quickly. “The Alessandros are big in this town, related to everyone. But I’ve got some mob connections and you’d better not start anything with me.”
“I’m not happy, Ed. You want to know why?”
“No, I just want you out of here. You Alessandros are nothing but trouble.”
Nick flipped the coin high and caught it. “Heads, you tell me why you hurt Eugene. Tails, you tell me why you hit an old man. We’ll get into the rest of it later.”
Ed stared at him blankly. Then something moved in his expression, just a tiny jerk that Nick intended to pursue. Ed quickly downed another drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Eugene is at the clinic with a concussion and a broken leg. I was at a wine festival yesterday. I saw you there, so you knew I was there. The winery was closed, and Eugene had the day off. He got back in the afternoon to a real mess. Someone broke into my winery, destroyed what they couldn’t contaminate, pretty much ruined a complete inventory, and took a case or so of my best wines. But that is secondary to why anyone would hurt that old man.”
“I never touched him.” Ed’s hand shook as he took a third drink.
With a violence that surprised himself, Nick picked up Ed’s glass and hurled it against the mirror. Ed jumped back as the mirror cracked, shards of the whiskey shot glass spraying onto the bartender. “I don’t know nothing!”
Nick reached across the bar to haul Ed up to his face. “I’m not feeling very gentle now, Ed. Where were you yesterday after you got back from the wine festival?”
“Came right back here. Shirley’s sister was sick and she couldn’t bartend. I was here, closed the place, and spent the night at JoAnn Armand’s. We been doing it since Beth ran off. Just ask Shirley—she’s been at me enough for playing around. She’s been mad as hell at me since I took in Beth. I get tired of Shirley’s griping, so I move around with women, but Beth was special, and she knew it. She’s not happy about JoAnn, and you can call her if you want to,” he repeated.
“I’m going to check on that, Ed.”
“You do that.” Ed shook loose and straightened his shirt gingerly. He scribbled on a bar napkin. “Here’s JoAnn’s number. Point the law at me, I don’t care. I wasn’t anywhere near your place.”
“Let’s see.” Nick leaned forward and with his other hand picked up the telephone. He cradled the receiver between his head and shoulder and punched out JoAnn’s number.
JoAnn was at first glad to hear who he was and then sullen when asked about Ed.
“Tell him, JoAnn,” Ed ordered roughly.
When she confirmed his alibi, Nick released Ed and studied him. The bartender was too nervous, taking another shot of whiskey. His eyes darted away from Nick’s. Nick stood slowly, fighting his anger. “Everything better check out, Ed. Or I’ll be back. And if you know anything about this, you’d better tell me. Think it over.”
When Maggie entered the police station, Nick at her side, she took his hand. He immediately brought it to his lips. “Lorenzo is my cousin. He’ll believe what you say. Calm down. You’re shaking.”
“I’ve been in police stations before. The experiences weren’t pleasant. Do you think I should say something about Leo’s attack?”
“It’s up to you. This is just the initial interview of all people involved in the winery. The lock had been broken, and Eugene had forgotten to turn on the security system, so there will be more questions after the crime scene people do their job. Let him do his job, Maggie. He’s a small tourist town police chief, but he’s got a real feel for people.”
Nick never left Maggie, his hand big and firm around hers, and Lorenzo briskly skimmed through the paperwork. When he was finished, he said softly, “Take it easy, Maggie. Nick tells me you’re not too fond of police and that you once had a bad time proving a point to them. You’re not under suspicion; this is just standard. I had to interview Eugene and got some cock-and-bull about how well he fought off his attacker, and I pretended to take notes on that, too. This could take days, so just relax and let us do our job. Nick, there are rubber boot prints all over that place. Size ten.”
Lorenzo looked at Maggie and then back at Nick. “If anyone you know has a grudge against either one of you, think about giving me that information. And Nick, the smell is so bad in there that the guys are requesting fans, so be prepared for an even bigger electricity bill.”
On their way to Eugene at the clinic, Maggie said, “Your cousin suspects I’m not telling him something.”
“He’s leaving that up to you. You’re pale and shaking. Take it easy while you visit Eugene, okay? I’ve got to meet Lorenzo at the winery. He’s going to let me into the office for some files and paperwork I can do at home.”
“Do you need me—?”
“I always need you. See you tonight at the house—you’re staying with me, right?”
Maggie placed a shallow box of Rosa’s food on Nick’s kitchen counter. “Dee Dee has just collected Eugene from the clinic. I helped move him into her house. He’ll need some of his things from his apartment. When I left, she was holding his hand
and fussing over him. I couldn’t tell if his smile was a leer or pain. How are you, Nick?”
She glanced at Dante, who had just passed her with one of Rosa’s hot casseroles. At eleven o’clock at night, Nick’s house was well lit, and he was seated at the kitchen table amid a mass of papers. The crumpled papers on the floor showed his frustration.
“I’m disgusted. I should have had a better security system, one with automatic timing, and I let an old man—a really good friend—get hurt. There’s no way to fill these new orders now. Some of the equipment needs repair. We couldn’t bottle, even if we had full tanks and barrels. Whoever it was wore gloves and fireman’s boots. What he didn’t break, he contaminated or emptied—rammed a forklift right through the cellar. It will take years to rebuild our customer base. We’ve just shipped some case goods, but not enough to hold future shelf space and facing. This year’s crop isn’t going to stop ripening and it has to be processed. With what? The equipment is going to take a fortune to repair—I could lose the whole place.”
When Maggie came to stand behind him, smoothing his shoulders, Nick leaned his head back against her and closed his eyes. He rubbed Scout’s ears as the dog’s head lay on his thigh. He sighed roughly. “It’s been a long day. I’m glad you’re here.”
Dante slid into a chair. He placed three glasses on the table, and with an expert twist of the corkscrew lifted the cork out of Nick’s best wine, reserved for family use. He poured it into the glasses and spoke thoughtfully. “Size ten farmer’s rubber boots. Tracks everywhere. They’re probably in the lake by now. He would have had wine stain all over him, so he probably wore some kind of gear. They’re pretty certain it was one man by the tracks. Could have been someone on drugs…when they couldn’t find cash in the receipt drawer, they lost control. But since you don’t keep cash on hand when closed, that theory doesn’t work. You do a lot of credit card and check business, not that much cash anyway.”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t think it was Ed. But I think he knows something—and I think he’s afraid. I think he’d take a beating from me rather than talk.”
“I don’t think it was Ed, either. He might be a heavy breather, trying to intimidate women—”
Nick’s head jerked away from her body and he stared up at her. “Has he been calling you?”
“Beth and me. A man like him won’t just walk away—”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t think it was important. I’ve had a lot worse come across telephone lines and so has Beth.”
“You should have told me. But oh, no. You’re used to handling your own problems, right?”
“And you’re understandably upset about Eugene and the winery, so let’s just stick to the problem at hand, okay?”
“If you two will stop arguing long enough, I have an idea. Lorna is pretty steamed about you and Maggie—”
Maggie shook her head. “She might have gone into my camper when I wasn’t there, but I don’t think she would have done anything like this. She’s honest in what she wants, not sneaky.”
Nick’s hand grasped Maggie’s wrist, and he brought her to sit on his lap. “What’s this about your camper?” he demanded.
“Lorna left it very neat. She just wanted me to know that she could get to me when she wanted. It’s an old game. When I got home the other day, Lorna was parked right outside the camper, waiting. I don’t know why she wanted my family pictures, but I understand she’s had a hard life. Maybe she wanted—”
Both men were staring at her blankly.
“Lorna? Neat? You’ve got to be kidding,” Dante said finally. “Her housekeepers are always complaining. They usually don’t stay long.”
“She broke into your camper and you didn’t tell me.” Nick’s words were spaced, accusing her.
“It’s nothing to worry about. Nothing was broken. She’s just pushing her weight around, that’s all, nudging me.”
Nick looked at Dante. “They have a bet about me. Maggie won’t tell me what it is. Maggie handles everything in her life and doesn’t want anyone else in her business. Things will have to change after we’re married.”
Maggie stared at him. “Nick—”
“I don’t have anything to offer now, but a big mess. But I’ll be back on my feet. I’ve done it before. You like puttering around a house and doing laundry. You can do that here, if you want—with my ring on your finger. What did you think? That I would let what we have go?”
When Maggie shook her head no, Nick looked back at his brother. “Don’t mind her. It’s going to take a while to set in. She’s stubborn that way. We haven’t even had a real date yet.”
Maggie had tried to halt Nick’s flow of words, but he wasn’t about to stop. So she took the only action available to her. She lifted her glass and raised it over his head, slowly letting the wine fall, drop by drop, onto his shaggy head.
He settled in to ignore her reaction, but his arm held her tight against him. He licked the wine from his lips. “I am not in a good mood, Maggie. It’s been a long day. Just sit still and let me hold you. If you want to argue, please save it for much, much later.”
Nick looked so gloomy that Maggie couldn’t help reaching out to dab away the wine she’d spilled on his head. She kissed him lightly. “Later, then. But don’t think you’re going to get away with that.”
He was silent for a moment and then he said, “About Leo Knute. He wasn’t exactly happy. He did a lot of threatening. Maybe he’s come back to make good. But it’s up to you, Maggie, if you want to tell Lorenzo. He’ll get there, sooner or later, just by talking to Eugene and others and fitting the pieces together. It’s a stretch for you, but this time you might trust the law.”
“I have been thinking that I would.”
“Leo was mad enough. But he should know what will happen if he tries anything again. But then maybe he’s sent a professional.” Dante swirled his wine and then sipped it. His look at Nick said his thoughts were serious. “Maybe it’s time you told her. Maybe they want Scout. When she went for Leo, and it took everything I had to haul her off him.”
Holding Maggie in his arms, Nick tensed. “Big mouth. She’s got enough on her plate with Celeste’s—”
“Tell me what?” Maggie caught Nick’s hair in her fist and tugged it back, looking down at him. “What about my dog?” she demanded, and sensed that the tension in the room had shifted once again.
Nick sighed tiredly. “Someone was at the restaurant, claiming that Scout was his. It could have been anyone faking ownership papers. She’s been around town enough and she’s a good-looking dog. Mom ran him off. Dante can’t find where he is staying. The guy is probably gone by now. They didn’t want to bother Lorenzo with something so small. He’s got enough problems with tourists letting off steam, and that underage bunch on drugs.”
“Scout took after the man. She’s become a town pet, especially with the geriatric crowd, and the children love to shake hands with her. Other than that night with Leo Knute, she’s a gentle dog.”
“Sometimes the threat in a person’s voice will trigger a reaction like that,” Nick added. “Especially if the person is holding something in his hand, like that leash. If it is Leo’s doing, then we’d better keep Scout close. She’s gotten into a routine of checking on the shops while you’re at the gym, especially Marco’s.”
Maggie tore away, shivering with reaction. Flashes of Scout, muddy and unfed, with the wariness of a mistreated animal that had taken a very short time of loving to overcome, played in Maggie’s mind.
Was the man Brent Templeton? Was it possible that he could have come after them?
Brent was obsessively neat. He couldn’t bear to step into spilled wine, or mess up the office…But he was capable of using someone to do his dirty work. Brent was very good at that…
She wrapped her arms around herself, her fears leaping within her. A tide of memories washed over her as she clasped her locket. “What…what did he look like?”
The
brothers studied her as Dante said, “Tall, thin, walks with a limp, thin gray sandy-colored hair, narrow face, broken nose, scar along one cheek. Has a sickly look. Not a friendly guy. A loner.”
The description didn’t match Brent. Hours spent in a gym had honed his muscles; facials and Jamaican holidays kept him smooth and tan. He moved with a slick, winning confidence, and he was never alone, always surrounded by powerful people and those who needed them. He preyed upon the latter, twisting their lives so poisonously that—
Glenda…
Nick rose and came to stand beside her. He took her hand between his. “You’re ice-cold. Do you know this guy?”
She shook her head. She fought to dismiss her terror and yet it nagged, nipping at her. With his money and vanity, a fitness addict with resources, he wouldn’t have scars or a limp. Brent would never have allowed himself to look other than perfect, and he was very smooth. His easygoing, friendly manner concealed a deadly predator who liked to play games. “No, of course not. But I think I saw that same man when I sailed with Dante. It’s just been a long day. Where do you think he is now?”
“We’ve been hunting for him. My guess is that he left town after the incident at the restaurant. Mom has threatened to put the evil eye on him, but don’t tell Dad. Nick, Maggie stayed with Eugene the whole time. She hasn’t eaten, but a little that Mom urged into her,” Dante said softly. “She’s always taking care of other people, but she forgets about herself.”
Nick drew her against him, holding her in his safe way. “Maggie, what you tell Lorenzo is up to you. But if this investigation opens up and Leo is proven to be involved, there’s a question of withholding information.”
Maggie didn’t want Nick or Dante to be held to blame for her decision. “I’ll call him in the morning—anything to help.”
“Call him now. He’s working on this full time to help me hurrying through this investigation and get that yellow crime-scene tape removed. I’ve got to get up and running before that crop comes in. Dante, I’ll take care of her. Let’s see about good old Leo—what he’s been up to. You took down the information from his wallet, Dante. After Maggie calls Lorenzo, give it to him.”
