by M. S. Parker
I knew I needed to call Jasper to tell him the good news as well as what he needed to do, but this seemed like the kind of thing I should say in person. I just wasn’t sure I could handle seeing Jasper today. Not after that dream. Finally, I decided that tomorrow would be okay. I’d make sure I didn’t dream tonight and then I could see him tomorrow.
With that decided, I sent him a text asking him to come over for lunch the next day so we could discuss things about the clinic. If he thought it was strange I didn’t call him, he didn’t say anything. His reply was cheerful and brief. I hoped it was because he hadn’t noticed anything different with my message – definitely a reason to send a message rather than calling. I didn’t want things between us being weird again, and I sure as hell didn’t want to explain the reason.
I spent the day out in the vineyard, assessing the damage and seeing if I could find something that the detectives had missed. Jacques had spent the week cleaning things up as best he could while it was still considered a crime scene. I’d told him not to come in over the weekend to explain things to me, but to write it all out and leave it in the office. I headed there after my curiosity had been satisfied and spent the rest of the morning and into the afternoon reviewing the loss. How much? What would need to be done to fix the damage? It was too late to try to replant the row that had been burnt, for this year anyway. The other rows nearby hadn’t been burnt, but the high pressure hoses the fire fighters had used had done almost as much damage to the grapes. All in all, nearly twenty-two hundred square feet worth of grapes had been lost. Out of hundreds of acres, that wasn’t much at all, and I knew that it could’ve been so much worse.
I leaned back in the chair as I thought about everything Jacques had written down. It would take some time and some money, but it wouldn’t stop the harvest or vastly affect our final product. We hadn’t lost much of anything to insects or such, and if the weather held, we wouldn’t lose anything to frost. The nights were chilly, but weren’t supposed to get too cold until much later in the season. Even if we ended up with the ten percent loss we’d averaged over the last few years, we’d still do fine. Maybe we’d be down a bottle or two, but not even close to hurting us financially, not at what we already had spoken for.
The question I had now was, had this been intentional? Had the person who’d started the fire – and with the confirmation of an accelerant being used, there was no doubt about it – done what they’d set out to do? Had they been trying to send a warning and that was why they’d only lit one row, or had they intended to set more of it on fire and they’d been interrupted?
I was inclined to believe that they’d done what they’d set out to do because I was sure the Lockwoods had been behind it. They didn’t want the vineyard to lose all of its vines. It wouldn’t be worth anything to them burnt up. The small bit we’d lost wouldn’t make the place any less valuable if they decided to sell it. I didn’t buy Gregory’s whole ‘keeping it in the family’ bullshit, not really. He might keep it or he might sell it. I had no doubt the family would do whatever was most lucrative.
My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since early that morning. I stood and headed back towards the house. I had papers to finish grading and some cleaning to do. All of that and some wine, I should be able to get a good night’s sleep. Hopefully a dreamless one.
When I woke Sunday morning, the first thing I felt was a wave of relief that the only dream I’d had that night had been a strange one about a pigeon and a watermelon. Nothing about Jasper or anything remotely erotic. I’d take strange and surreal over that.
It couldn’t, however, make seeing Jasper again any less awkward. For me, anyway. He had no clue what had happened and I wasn’t about to share. I’d keep it to myself and he’d never have to know about the dream that had left me shaking. In a very bad – and very good – way.
He came with cold beer, which made me laugh because Allen had always insisted on drinking wine. Even when we’d been in college, he’d preferred wine or scotch over beer. I liked wine well enough, but I also enjoyed the occasional beer. Apparently, Jasper had known it.
We settled at the kitchen table and shared the light lunch I’d made. I could hear how stilted my voice sounded as I explained to Jasper everything my lawyer had told me. Since we were talking business, he probably didn’t notice, but I did. The kiss hadn’t changed things between us, not after Jasper had apologized. My dream, however, wasn’t something I could admit, let alone apologize for. I didn’t know how to make this less awkward without sharing things I didn’t want anyone to know, especially him.
“Here.” Jasper placed a second beer in front of me as he took another one for himself.
“I shouldn’t,” I started to protest. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”
“And you look like you need to relax,” he countered. “I’ll bet you haven’t slept well since the fire.”
He had no idea, and I intended to keep it that way.
“What about you?” I gestured towards the dark circles under his eyes. “You don’t look like you’ve slept much either.”
He shrugged. “One of my friends at the ER asked if I’d cover for him this week.”
“So you’ve been working with your dad and at the ER?” I took a long drink of my beer. He was right, I needed it. The buzz was taking the edge off of things and I felt myself relaxing. “When are you sleeping?”
“Like you said, I’m not.” He grinned as he took another drink. “But every penny I put away goes towards the clinic. I don’t plan on taking your money without putting out some of my own.”
“It’s not my money,” I said. “Allen wanted you to have it.”
Jasper shook his head. “I always knew you were stubborn, but I don’t think I ever realized how much.”
“Excuse me?” I wasn’t angry at his assessment, especially considering how accurate it was. I’d always been a stubborn kid, and that hadn’t changed as I’d grown up. I was just surprised.
“You know, that was one of the first things Allen told me about you.” Jasper drained the last of his beer.
“Really?” I’d never heard this story.
“The day after he met you, he told me that he’d met the woman he was going to marry. He told me you were beautiful, strong, and stubborn enough that he knew once you’d made your mind up about something, you’d stick with it.” He reached for a third beer, then seemed to think better of it. “And he was determined to be the person you made up your mind about.”
I was quiet for a moment, and then said, “Do you know what he told me about you?”
Jasper shook his head. “No.”
“The first time he talked about you, he called you his brother.”
Jasper swallowed hard and looked down at the table.
“He said you were the best person he knew.”
Silence fell again and I watched as Jasper traced a pattern on the table. I didn’t know what to say. It felt strange, sharing Allen like this. It felt too much like how Mitchell and I talked about our mother. Telling memories, not in an effort to keep him alive, but to not forget.
“I’ll never know anyone like him again.” Jasper’s voice was soft, and I didn’t know if he’d even intended for me to hear him, but I did.
It was that moment that I was able to identify exactly what I’d been feeling these past couple weeks as I spent time with Jasper, and as I worked alongside Jacques. I’d thought that I’d been uncomfortable with Jasper because of the dream or the kiss. Then I’d considered that maybe I was using that as an excuse because seeing Jasper reminded me too much of Allen. Now, however, I understood.
Being with Jasper did sometimes make me think of Allen, but I could see that wasn’t what I was seeing now. Now, I didn’t see the past, but rather the future. A future without Allen. And it wasn’t the black emptiness it had once been.
That scared the shit out of me.
Chapter 25
I needed to change the subject before I actually ha
d to examine my introspective revelation. That seemed more like something I should be dealing with on my own.
“Have the cops made a ruling yet about the fire?”
I grasped onto the topic gratefully. I immediately began with my meeting with the Lockwoods and telling them about what I planned to do with the insurance money. That led into my trip to the police station and the detectives blowing off my suspicions about my in-laws...
Former in-laws, I realized suddenly. Allen had been the tie that bound me to his parents and siblings. They’d never considered me family and now I didn’t have to think of them that way. They weren’t my family.
“Shae?”
Jasper was giving me a strange look and I realized I’d stopped mid-sentence.
“Sorry,” I said with a half-smile. “I just realized that the Lockwoods weren’t my in-laws anymore.”
He chuckled. “I could see how that would be a startling revelation. And a relief.”
I laughed, grateful that he understood. A flash of guilt went through me, both at the laughter and at the relief that came from knowing, once this case was decided, I never had to deal with the Lockwoods ever again.
Jasper leaned across the table and put his hand on mine. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re allowed to laugh. You’re allowed to not want to have anything to do with those assholes.”
I swallowed hard. That’s what I was afraid of. Not necessarily the act of moving on, but the fact that it was okay. Jasper’s fingers curled around mine and squeezed for a moment before letting me go.
“So no one’s found anything to tie the Lockwoods to the fire?” He leaned back and picked up his empty beer bottle, rolling it between his palms. A thoughtful expression was on his face and I didn’t speak, letting him think. After a minute or two of silence, he looked back up. “Where else did the cops look?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did they just look at the area around the vines or did they look over the whole place?”
“I’m not sure.” I thought for a moment. “I think Jacques said they went into the office and checked out the books and then looked in the equipment shed. I’m guessing they were looking for connections to the accelerant used to start the fire.”
“Okay.” He was quiet again for another few minutes. “The detectives think it was an inside job, so they’re looking at people who were here.”
“Right,” I agreed.
“Did they bother looking into ways on and off of the property without being seen?”
My eyes widened. I hadn’t even thought of that. I mean, sure, I’d realized that whoever’d done this had to have gotten here without being seen and gotten away while we were all distracted by the fire, but it had never occurred to me to investigate that part of it.
Jasper stood. “What do you say we do a little investigating of our own?”
I nodded as I stood up. “I think that’s one of the best ideas I’ve heard in a while.”
We headed out.
For the rest of the day, we walked the property line, looking for some clue of where our arsonist had gotten on and off the property. We talked as we went, sometimes about the clinic and Jasper’s plans, sometimes about random things we remembered, sometimes about the future. A couple times we wondered about things like why the arsonist chose that specific place to target, why he or she hadn’t gone to one of the sides of the vineyard where the fire wouldn’t be seen until too late. Jasper tended to agree with me that the intention hadn’t been to destroy the vineyard, but to send a message. Actually, he agreed with most of my theories, and not just because he thought it was what I wanted to hear. He actually considered each of them.
We didn’t find anything by the time it started to get dark, but Jasper promised to come back when he could so we could keep looking together. He also recommended I didn’t tell anyone else what we were doing. I agreed with him on that. I didn’t want Jacques or any of the others dragged into this, and I knew Henley wouldn’t approve.
Jasper came back each night and we picked up where we left off. As September ended, we still hadn’t found anything. But when he came back on the first Monday in October, we tried something different. Instead of walking the perimeter along the roads, we headed towards the side of the property that butted up against the Benz’s Christmas tree farm. I didn’t know them very well other than to know that they were a fairly odd older couple who’d never caused Allen and me any problems.
I hadn’t even thought to go by their property since there wasn’t any direct access, but it was the last place we hadn’t looked. We chatted about our days, mine at school and his at his father’s practice, never touching but walking in a natural sync.
I was paying attention to a story about a little girl who’d given Jasper the third degree about why he wasn’t married and how she could set him up with her mother, and I almost walked past it. A glint of something metal.
I stopped and Jasper did the same. I bent over and picked up the silver keychain. As I straightened, I saw what was written on the half-dollar-sized object.
“Jasper.” I turned towards him. “Look.” I read the inscription. “‘Five Years of Service. Lockwood Oil.’”
Chapter 26
I carried the keychain back to the house, barely touching it. I dropped it into a plastic bag and then Jasper and I tried to figure out the best way to handle our discovery. We’d marked the spot where we’d found it, but both of us had felt that leaving it wasn’t the best idea. I had no way of knowing if the owner would come back for it, and I didn’t entirely trust the cops not to have someone on the Lockwoods’ payroll.
I couldn’t not turn it in though. The only explanation for the keychain being where I’d found it was that someone with a connection to the Lockwoods had cut through the Benz’s property onto mine and that they’d left the same way. It made sense. The way the property was set up, heading towards the Benz’s would offer the most coverage and since they’d have to go through a couple miles of trees to get to a road, no one would’ve looked that way.
In the end, it was a call from Henley telling me that I’d gotten my emergency hearing on Friday regarding the vineyard that made me decide. Jasper went with me to the police station, but I went in alone to give Reed and Rheingard the keychain. Neither of them seemed impressed with my find, but at least I’d given it to them, and if they happened to ‘lose’ it, I’d taken pictures.
Once that was done, it was time to move on to preparing for the trial that would decide if I’d be allowed to keep my home or if I’d lose it to my former in-laws.
Even though the Lockwoods were from Texas, I knew they had a long reach. Allen’s uncle had been well-liked in St. Helena and I didn’t doubt for a moment that they’d use that to try to influence the judge. There was also Celeste. Allen’s brother, Marcus, had married Celeste Ryan after getting her pregnant when she was nineteen. With him belonging to the rich and prominent Lockwood family, he might’ve been able to get away without the shotgun wedding, except the girl he’d knocked up had been the local sheriff’s only daughter. Even Marcus hadn’t been that stupid. And he actually did seem to love Celeste, so I supposed I shouldn’t judge.
I’d never really gotten to know her, but I hadn’t wanted to. Anyone who could fall in love with a dick like Marcus...well, let’s just say I knew even if Allen had still been alive, Celeste and I would never have been BFFs. Once Marcus had married the sheriff’s baby girl and became the heir apparent to the oil business, it had been all roses and rainbows. The sheriff had made sure that the Lockwoods never got into real trouble. Granted, he was just the sheriff of a small Texas town, but law enforcement often did favors for each other, as long as no one was trying to take over jurisdiction of something.
I needed to convince the court that the vineyard was mine, which should have been easy since my name was on the deed, but I knew that the legal system didn’t always side with the truth or what was right. It was about what we could prove. Or who you knew.
Jasper and I went through all of Allen’s legal papers, making sure there was nothing I’d missed that would discredit my claim. There wasn’t anything. No hint of a prenup that I knew we hadn’t had. No mention of changes to his will. No hints that he’d ever intended to divorce me, remove me from his will or that he wanted anyone other than me to have the vineyard.
When I went into the courtroom on Friday morning, Jasper went with me, sitting on the opposite side of the room as the Lockwoods. He was the only person, actually, who was on my side. I sat with Henley at one of the tables. Gregory and May sat at the other table with their lawyer. The others were all behind them.
When the judge came in, we all stood and I took a deep breath. It was time.
Things went relatively smoothly. The Lockwoods’ lawyer stood and talked about Allen’s uncle and how much he’d meant to St. Helena. He talked about the desire to keep the vineyard in the family and how I wasn’t family, how I wouldn’t ever have a Lockwood child. He talked and talked, weaving a story of a conniving widow who just wanted money, the woman that the Lockwoods had always accused me of being.
Then it was Mr. Henley’s turn. He didn’t try to tell a story. Instead, he stuck to the facts and kept it very simple. Allen and I had been together for eight years. Engaged from the time I’d moved into the vineyard and then married for a year when Allen had passed. I’d been faithful to him. No prenuptial agreement had been signed because Allen hadn’t wanted one. There’d been no problems in our marriage, financial or otherwise. No legal documents had been filed saying Allen wanted his family to have the vineyard or his trust. My name was on the deed and had been added legally, complete with witness signature and notarized documentation.
