High on adrenaline, she headed into her father’s living room, now a step behind Will. She took in the scene--broken glass window with a spider web pattern--her father lying face down on the floor in a crumpled heap. Oh god.
Other, odd details. A picture knocked onto the floor, their father and his namesake, Grandpa Max, arm in arm. Papers scattered about like fallen leaves.
She turned, dreading what else she’d see. Her sister-in-law was sprawled on her back, eyes glassy, a dark stain spreading down her neck and onto her pale-pink blouse.
The blood-splattered face horrifically mirrored Maddy’s morning dream.
CHAPTER 8
9:22 a.m.:
That horrible, gun-like sound still echoed in Will’s ears. Frozen with fear, he stood in the living room doorway. Maria and Dad were sprawled on the floor next to each other.
Will’s breath stopped. His stomach clenched and his heart turned to ice. For a moment he remained motionless, then, in a flash, he was on the floor at Maria’s side. He still couldn’t breathe. She didn’t look right. Part of her head was--
He couldn’t look. She was gone. Pain washed over him, he closed his eyes tightly, doubled over, and clenched his hands into fists.
A long minute later, a small sound caught his attention. Will managed a shallow breath, which he held while he straightened up and opened his eyes. The murmur came from Dad’s direction. Will turned, knees on the hardwood floor. Maddy knelt on the other side of their father, near his broken eyeglasses. There was a ragged hole through the upper left side of his dad’s shirt.
Then Dad’s chest moved. Barely. Surprised, Will and Maddy both leaned over their dad and searched his face for signs of life.
Maddy’s eyes filled with tears and her cry sounded hoarse. “Dad!”
Before Will could utter a word, Dad’s eyes slowly rolled open and focused on the two of them. “Love you--so much--torney--go to Sacramento attorney. Go now,” he choked out, weakly turned his head, put his right hand on his wound, and coughed up blood.
Will grabbed his father’s other hand, feeling as if he’d snagged a fragile branch while sinking into quicksand.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Will said, the words sounding surreal and inadequate. Their eyes met for an instant before his father’s green eyes fluttered shut and his head relaxed back. “Shhh...”
“No--called you here--saw a ghost--think...about Ramiro’s legacy--think it was--” Dad’s last, shallow breath doused Will’s tiny flame of hope.
For the briefest instant, his father’s essence exploded throughout the room, and then all of him was gone.
The delicate branch broke, and Will sank into despair. He closed his eyes, pulled his hand away, slammed his fists into the floor against all the grief, and somehow managed to keep the scream inside his own head. Maria was gone. She was his life and love. His father was dead. Will’s heart was a coal pit of grief, while his head exploded with white fireworks of pain. Tight with the effort of holding himself together, he trembled.
Long seconds passed.
After a time, Will became aware of Maddy’s violent sobbing. Her hand gripped his arm tightly.
Eventually, Will opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn’t look at the bodies, so he peered around the living room. Who would do this? And why?
His eyes found the cracked window, and, with a jolt, he realized the shooter could still be out there. Probably was still out there. He reached for his phone to call the police.
And where was AJ?
CHAPTER 9
9:25 a.m.:
AJ liked playing cowboys and Indians. As he moved through the patchy fog toward the broken branch sound, he imagined that he and Damien, the renamed dog, were Indian braves sneaking up on stupid cowboys who had gotten too close to their tribe. In his head, he made war whoop sounds.
Holding onto Damien’s collar, he tiptoed down the tall rows of vines, around the house, and toward an old barn, where the noise had come from. The brave warrior paused at the edge of the vines, about ten feet from the gravel driveway, and lay down on the ground, pulling Damien down beside him into the mist.
He heard a new sound in the distance. A siren.
As he watched from the shadows, two men ran out of the barn and shot into the front seat of an evil-looking car with tinted windows and a BMW emblem on the hood. One of the men was carrying a long weapon, and threw it on the dash before jumping in after it. The other man started the car. The brave Indian role abandoned AJ as he realized two things at once. The breaking branch had been a gunshot, and these men were dangerous.
AJ burrowed into the ground and tried to make no noise. He felt scared, knowing the car would drive right by his hiding place. Afraid to move, he shivered, held his breath, and tightened his grip on the dog’s neck, wishing Squirrel wouldn’t pant so loudly.
CHAPTER 10
9:30 a.m.:
Maddy rubbed tears from her eyes and stood. Will had just called the police. How long would it take them to arrive? Her head reeled with questions about the murder of her father and Maria. Why on earth would someone want to kill them? Where was the son of a bitch who did it?
“Merda! Where is AJ?” Will swore in Portuguese as he stumbled to his feet, too.
It took Maddy only a moment to realize Will was right about AJ being in trouble. Where was he? The threat wasn’t over.
“Don’t panic yet. Let’s go find him,” she said.
Maddy could sense Will trying to get ahold of himself. Her sobbing done for the moment, all she felt now, deep in her chest, was the powerful urge to locate the boy. She was razor sharp and focused. As fast as she could, she studied the bodies, the window.
Wanting to see if AJ was in sight, but also wanting to be careful, she hugged the wall and peered around the window casement, looking outside through the shattered glass, too aware that the killer was out there somewhere. At first, there was nothing to see but the barn through the fog. Then she noticed the upper hay window at the top of the barn stood open, a lidless third eye in the face of the barn.
She pointed. “Look! I’ll bet that’s where the shot came from.”
“I’ll bet you’re right,” Will replied in a hushed tone.
Maddy took a final look and ran back down the hall. Will was not quite able to match her long stride. Tires crunched on gravel. She cracked the front door open. A black Seven Series BMW sedan sped around a corner. The passenger’s window was down, and blond hair leaked out underneath the man’s black cap. She couldn’t make out any details about the driver. The car fishtailed away as it careened through the foggy vineyard and down a service lane.
“They got away,” Will growled through clenched teeth.
“I know--but I didn’t see AJ in the car.” She raised her voice and yelled for him, “AJ! AJ! Where are you?”
Will joined the chorus. “AJ. Come on out, buddy!”
As they both moved toward their cars, Maddy turned around in a slow circle to peer in all directions. A distant siren howled.
After a minute, Squirrel came bounding from behind the house, AJ close on his heels. Tears glistened in the boy’s eyes as he ran to her and rushed into her arms. She embraced him, awash in relief. Maddy hugged AJ tightly for a long minute as he cried, her own eyes moist, too. After a minute or two, the rush seeped out of her and a deep chill entered her bones. She shivered when AJ stopped crying and separated from her.
The three of them moved to the front steps and collapsed. AJ huddled next to her and Maddy put her arm around him. For a minute, they all stared in the direction the BMW had gone.
“What happened? Why were those mean men here?” AJ asked.
Maddy considered sugar coating, but chose the truth. “Our dad--and Will’s wife--were killed by those men.”
AJ let out a fresh sob and a tear rolled down his freckled cheek.
Will reached for a cigarette. “Don’t cry, buddy, it’ll be all right.”
“Will it?” AJ asked, and Maddy wondered exactly the
same thing.
CHAPTER 11
11:00 a.m.:
As he stared out the window of his father’s den, Will considered reaching into his pocket for another cigarette. Too bad they were indoors. He wanted a smoke. Filthy habit. But it might make him feel better.
The heaviness in his chest made the day seem dreamlike and bizarre. Dad and Maria aren’t dead. He wasn’t being interviewed by a cop, no. The smoke would have to wait, so he scratched at his itchy new beard instead.
A blackbird flew into the window pane with a dull thud and dropped to the ground. It flew off again, but Will, not in the best of moods, figured it for a goner. The murders were spreading evil ripples like a pebble thrown into a pond. Staring at the smudge on the window, Will sat rooted to his chair.
“Where did you meet your wife?”
Will ignored the police sergeant’s question.
The den reminded Will of a gentleman’s library from days gone by. His dad had enjoyed the masculine feel of high, beamed ceilings, dark shelves full of books, a broad, traditional desk, and multiple narrow, patterned, stained-glass windows.
Another unwelcome stab of pain arose as he thought about Dad on his way to the morgue, never to sit at his desk again. The shadowed space felt too close, and Will could smell the sergeant’s haze of stale-coffee breath from across the desk.
Earlier, Maddy had left the den in which the police had set up an interview room. Before their younger sister, Bella, and the police had arrived, she had fumed for a while, pacing and kicking gravel in the driveway. He figured they were all in shock. Just ten minutes ago, while in the bathroom, he almost lost it during a long, bad moment and knew he’d mourn more later, when he was alone. As Maddy had stalked from the room on her long legs, he could tell from the storm in her green eyes that she was angry as a disturbed rattlesnake.
The police had questioned AJ, too. Now it was Will’s turn in the den’s hot seat. He had tried, with no success, to avoid a conversation with the portly Calistoga police officer named Pete. The cop came with a balding pate, heavy, black glasses, Groucho Marx eyebrows, and a thick, drooping mustache. For someone with such a hang-dog comedic appearance, the man had an annoying air of self-importance.
“I said, where did you meet your wife?”
Will cleared his throat. “I met her after I relocated to Brazil. I was living on my sailboat and working as an electrical engineer.”
Will didn’t mention he’d moved to South America to escape Maddy’s anger, his own guilt, and his need to stop living in her shadow. They were close when they were young, but high school was hard. She was a straight-A student. He was a B student. She was a star snow skier. He hadn’t done sports. She excelled at everything and he had done okay. Since Maddy was the first born, it was typical psychology, but living it had been a rough ride. After high school, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. It was all so uncomfortable that he’d sought out a new life. But he still felt loyal to Maddy and this walrus of a man didn’t need to know those details.
Sergeant Pete fidgeted with a pencil on the desk. “How’d you hook up?”
“Maria and I met at work, she was an engineer, too--we worked together on a project to improve manufacturing quality. I was a tester. She was a respected and successful project manager. We were happy and married a year and a half later.”
A kaleidoscope of memories whirled through his mind: lazy mornings on the boat eating bacon and eggs, dancing in the midnight clubs, wine over dinner, walks through the noise-filled market. His head was dizzy with grief.
“Why exactly did you come up to California this week?”
Nervous, Will twirled his flashlight’s keychain ring around his finger. “I don’t know why Dad asked for a visit, but on the voice mail he indicated it was important. So, we came. Maddy and I arrived first, our younger sister ran late and missed the whole thing.” Wish I’d missed the whole thing, too.
The sergeant went over the events of the morning, bit by painful bit. Will indicated he hadn’t seen the shooter and had only caught a brief glimpse of the BMW sedan.
“Any idea who would want your father or your wife dead?”
“No. The vineyard had been on a downhill slide but wasn’t bankrupt, Dad hadn’t dated in forever, and I don’t know of any shady business partners. And Maria, everybody loves Maria.” And then he added under his breath, “loved.”
Will remembered yesterday morning’s laughter, lovemaking, and kisses before they got out of bed. When his heart constricted farther, he looked for something else to think about. His father’s mention of Ramiro came to mind, but he decided not to share that tidbit with Sergeant Walrus either.
Sergeant Pete stabbed his pencil at Will. “What about a will, how much will you get from your dad’s murder?”
Will tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice. “I suspect this place is mortgaged to the hilt, so I doubt we’ll get anything.”
Will didn’t like where this line of questioning was going. He expected some sympathy, not to be treated like a suspect. He was still wobbly, cut off at the knees.
“What about life insurance on your wife?”
The question, like the man, was too blunt and Will’s temper begin to flare. “I vaguely recall that there’s a life insurance policy on my wife through work.”
“How much is it worth?”
Ridiculous as it was, Will could sense the man narrowing in, like a hunting dog that had just found a scent.
“Six or seven hundred thousand, I don’t recall exactly.”
The sergeant’s eyes lit up. “Really? And you don’t recall the exact amount?”
Will could almost see the cop’s nose twitch with the aroma of motive. “No. No, I don’t.”
“And why’s that?”
Will’s ire was up now. “Well, I don’t even know my own policy. Maybe a million. Something like ten times my annual salary. I’m just sad she’s gone.”
“I’ll bet you are. All seven-hundred-thousand tears.” The sergeant smirked. “How much does it cost to hire a hit man in Brazil?”
Will stood and leaned toward the desk, knocking the chair down behind him. The dread in his chest had been replaced by the heat of anger. His face felt hot and his hands were clenched into fists. Using every ounce of self-control he possessed, he grated, “Are we done here?”
The sergeant stood, too, and stared Will down. “Yes, just don’t leave the country.” The final insult was delivered with authority and dismissal.
Will did his best not to slam the door on the way out, but it still thundered in his ears. Christ Almighty! On top of it all, I’m a suspect.
CHAPTER 12
12:30 p.m.:
Police questioning over, Maddy tripped and swore as she stepped out the front doorway and onto the porch with Will. In a foul temper after dealing with the interviews, she wanted the truth about what had happened here and was not at all sure when she was going to get it.
The sergeant with the wild eyebrows and bushy mustache had seemed a complete idiot, asking her the same questions two, and sometimes three, times, so she had no faith he was going to be of any help in tracking down the killers. Especially since Will told her he’d been treated like a suspect, which was absurd. She and Will had been released at last and were heading for his blue Mustang.
As the heavy front door shut behind them, Will said something she didn’t quite hear. The rage she felt at the murders, mixed with the angry stew she’d felt toward him since high school, began to boil over. She didn’t want to talk to him, but their dad was dead! Ugh, she was going to have to deal with him. He smelled of tobacco and part of her questioned when he had taken up smoking. It was a disgusting habit and threw her right over the edge.
Maddy turned toward him to express her annoyance. “You stink! When did you start smoking?” He kept walking so she grabbed his arm to get him to stop, a little harder than she intended. “Hey, I asked you a question.”
Will turned and looked at her with long-lashed
eyes that held deep pools of sorrow. Her anger evaporated, like mist in the sun, and she reproached herself. She sniffled, once, twice, and then her reserve failed, and she broke into tears, sobbing. Will pulled her close and held her.
After a minute, she pushed him away. “I’m sorry. It’s just you were such an ass in high school, and I’m still mad at you.”
He looked down. “I’m sorry for all that, Maddy.”
She tried a grin. “Let’s just drop it. We have bigger problems right now.”
He pulled out a piece of paper and waved it gamely. “I found the attorney’s address while you were working with Bella to get AJ back to the city.”
“Great, I want some answers. Since we can’t make any funeral arrangements until after the autopsy, let’s go find out what Dad was talking about.” She got in the passenger seat. “His tone was urgent and we can start notifying people of his death on the road.”
“Sounds good. Who do you think those guys were in that black Beemer?” Will asked.
“No clue. And whoever they were, why would they want to kill Dad and Maria?”
Will engaged his seat belt. “You’ve got me. And I don’t trust the police to figure it out.”
“Me neither.”
Will fired up the Mustang and started down the driveway. She noticed the vineyard roll by. The fog had cleared and the sun shone brightly out of a robin’s-egg blue sky. Somehow, it had become a beautiful Napa Valley day. Life went on. A sad line from an old Johnny Cougar song rewound through her head.
“That was nice of Bella to take the dog. And get AJ back home.”
Maddy thought back to her younger sister’s frightened arrival and agreed. “It was. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought AJ. He got lucky. I hope he’ll be okay.”
The Lost Power: VanOps, Book 1 Page 3
