The Caspian Wine Mystery/Suspense/Thriller Series

by Maggie Thom

  Until he spoke. “What the hell? Who let you in...?”

  Looking up from her sprawled position, Bailey brushed her tangled hair out of her face. That’s when he stopped talking and audibly gasped, making her feel like he was looking at someone who was horribly disfigured.

  Her first instinct was to scoot backward as fast as she could. For a moment she was sure she’d seen evil emblazoned in his eyes. The vision scared her almost as much as all the times she’d hidden in dark closets waiting for her mom to come back and get her. She shook her head to clear it. When she looked again, the man seemed very contrite and was offering to help her up.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss. That was totally my fault. I can’t believe I was so clumsy.”

  She frowned as she cautiously placed her hand in his. She doubted this large, elegantly dressed man did anything awkwardly. He appeared very self-contained, demanding attention and strong as he pulled her up with little effort. She stumbled forward into him.

  “I’m sorry again.”

  “No, it’s me. I just don’t know my own strength. Now where were you off to in such a hurry?”

  “I was heading to the guard house to get a cab.” She could have googled it but she had no idea where she was, so couldn’t have told the cab driver where to come to. But the man guarding the gate would know.

  “Oh, the phones in the house aren’t working?”

  “No. I just felt I’d overstayed my welcome and that I should leave. It was nice meeting you. Sorry for barging into you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You know I’m headed into town. Could I give you a lift?”

  “Well...” Bailey brushed her hands down her pants. Something didn’t feel right. But as it dawned on her that she seemed to be insulting everyone here, she shook off the feeling.

  Why pass this up. I’ve already caused enough headaches.

  “Sure. I’m Bailey, by the way.”

  “I’m Geoff.”

  “Nice to meet you, Geoff,” she said as she fell into step beside him. “What do you do here?”

  “Oh, odd jobs. You know, this and that.”

  She tried not to be obvious as she took in his three-piece suit and leather dress shoes.

  His nostrils flared as he replied to her unanswered question, “I have a date tonight. A date I’ve been waiting a long time for.”

  Feeling contrite at his offended tone, she apologized, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to imply anything. You look fabulous. Any woman would be thrilled to go out with you. The flecks of gray in your hair are hot right now. Women like that.” She was sure that they were what was left from his dye job, so whether it was an accident or on purpose, she did have to admit it made him look very worldly and distinguished.

  He beamed at her. “Why, thank you. I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel. And you, what do you do?”

  Noticing him glancing at her clothes in turn, she couldn’t help but laugh. Self-consciously, she brushed her hands down her wrinkled, stained t-shirt. “I usually look much better than this, honestly. It’s just been a crazy day.” Week. Month. Take your pick. “I’m an interior designer in Victoria.”

  “Hmmmm, Victoria, how did you end up there?”

  Odd question.

  “Moved there when I was twenty. Loved it, so I stayed.”

  “You got tired of living on the prairies.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. It was just time for me to move out on my own. My mom...” Glancing around, she noted they were surrounded by trees. She could no longer see the large mansion—a feat she didn’t think was possible. The back of her neck started to tingle. “Uh, where are we going?” She looked back over her shoulder to the winding cobblestone path they’d been following. Ahead there were only more trees.

  “I live in a house back here. My car is parked just ahead. It’s not far.”

  Though she was far from at ease, she continued with him. “How long have you lived here?”

  His face took on a haunted look so fleeting that Bailey wasn’t sure she’d actually seen it. “A very long time.”

  “It must be something to live here and enjoy this place whenever you want?”

  “You have no idea, child. No idea.”

  Suddenly, the path took a sharp left and they came out of the forest onto a service road. A midnight blue sedan was parked there.

  “Get in.”

  She stiffened. Her senses were ringing like a church bell on Sunday morning. She sensed something... His smile seemed genuine but she noted that he cocked his head such that she couldn’t quite see his eyes. He was patiently holding the door.

  This is Guy’s world. Not mine. Everything is fine.

  “Thanks.” Stepping forward, she shook off the bad vibes again, putting it down to exhaustion and hurting an elderly lady who’d done nothing but invite her into her home. She wasn’t about to hurt another old person.

  He nodded and walked around the car as she slid into the passenger seat. As he climbed in, she noticed his ring. It was ugly and gaudy and looked like he’d have to be a weightlifter to wear it. She looked a little closer. A ruby?

  “What did you say you do here?”

  “I didn’t.” He started the car and shifted into gear, easing them forward.

  Bailey’s temple started to throb as her stomach clenched like she was in an inverted roller coaster.

  How does he know I lived on the prairies?

  Not questioning what her body was telling her, she grabbed the door handle to fling herself out. But he was too quick. He slammed on the brakes, throwing her into the dash, his large hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head to connect rather forcefully. He grabbed her arm and slammed her back. The cold whisper of metal caressing her cheek convinced her to stop struggling.

  Nausea churned in her stomach, clutching at her throat. Her breath was shallow. Her mouth dry, she whispered, “Who are you?”

  He moved in close, his chuckle as grating as nails over a blackboard, shaking her to her core. “Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh but the question is, my dear, who are you?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  “She’s the spitting image of Mother. I can’t believe it. It was like looking at Mother when I was a small child. Of course, she’d have never been caught dead in those horrid clothes. Really, Guy,” she arched her brow at him, “couldn’t you have bought her some nice, clean clothes?” She patted her perfectly coiffed silver hair. “You could even have put them on your expense account.”

  Guy smiled lightly at her attempted humor. Her eyelids drooped almost as much as her shoulders did. He’d never seen her this tired.

  “Can you help me lay down or do you need to call Penelope?”

  He eased her down onto the bed. “Enough with the guilt trip, Grams. Things happened. We arrived. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets cleaned up before dinner. You’ll be dazzled. Okay?”

  Tears filled her eyes. It was almost Guy’s undoing.

  “Don’t, Grams.”

  “All those years lost. I can’t wait to tell Gina and Daniel. It will be such a shock. I’m not sure how she’ll take it. She’s been shut down for so long. I’m not sure how well I’m taking it.” Resting against the pillows Guy positioned behind her, she lifted her shoe-clad feet onto the bed. “It’s such a miracle.” She closed her eyes. In that moment she looked so worn out and helpless. The blueness of her veins stood out like road maps against her paper-thin, pale skin. Age had caught up with her in less than an hour. That shook Guy. He’d never thought of her as old. Even at seventy-eight, she had always been so full of energy.

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek, feeling guilty he’d forgotten to do that when they’d arrived.

  “You’re a good boy, Guy. Thank you. Now let me rest.” She patted his face, something she’d never done before. “Thank you for my gift.” With that she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  He knew he should get back to Bailey but there was something so fragile about his Grandma that he was reluctant to leave her.
Something was off.

  From the corner chifforobe he pulled out a throw blanket and gently laid it over her before leaving. He stood in the hallway, taking in several deep breaths before heading down the curved staircase to where he’d left Bailey on the third floor. He stepped onto the balcony, pausing to take in the view. The majestic beauty always caught him, pulled at him. The serenity of the place was so much like a well orchestrated song, able to transport the listener somewhere beautiful.

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he turned, fully expecting Bailey to have a smart comment about his behavior, only she wasn’t there. He looked around and then walked to the edge to scan the area. If he was to guess, he’d bet her independent and curious nature got the better of her. He went back inside. As he wandered through the house, he checked both swimming pools, especially his favorite, the one with the retractable wall, and then the four hot tubs and then six of the twelve vacant rooms.

  The nausea grew stronger as he searched. Tamping down his overactive imagination, he knew there was one place he hadn’t yet checked. It was where he always went—the kitchen. Heading to the back side of the house, he found the lady that really ran the place.

  “Hello, Penelope.”

  She was arranging a buffet style flower bouquet to adorn the second dining room, the one with a magnificent outdoor view of the gardens. She spun around at the sound of her name. Her face lit up.

  “My Guy.”

  He grinned back. She’d been calling him that ever since he was ten and was the same size as her. She launched herself at him. If his Grandmother had been around, that would never have happened. He caught her and gave her a big bear hug, easily lifting the tiny woman off her feet. “My Penelope.”

  She giggled as he set her down and looped her arm through his. “What can I get you to eat? I’ve made cinnamon buns.”

  Guy groaned. She’d been making and feeding him her world famous buns all his life. They were so irresistible he’d have killed someone to get to them. He was just glad he wasn’t around all the time anymore, or he’d look like a baby elephant.

  “Actually, Penelope, I’m looking for someone—”

  A flustered young woman of about twenty-five flew into the room. “Miss Penelope, Mr. Carter, our meat supplier, says he’s not taking blame for the lost order. Said it was our fault.”

  “Guy, good to see you. I’ll have time later?”

  “Yeah, sure Penelope. Go give him hell.”

  She stood tall, all five feet of her, put the same fierce look on her face which had scared Guy a time or two and marched out of the room. Just before exiting she gave him a wink over her shoulder.

  The woman had been his savior. Everyone and everything had been so starched and proper when he’d moved there as a child, he’d been afraid to go near anyone or anything. He was a wild young boy unsure of his identity, a pawn in an ugly game of money and revenge. Then there was Geoffrey reinforcing that he was unlovable, something he’d already believed about himself. Geoff had made his life hell. Penelope had befriended him, though. She’d gotten to him through her food. Even now, he’d crawl across burning coals to get to the dishes she served. Not only could she cook but she’d been the one to teach him how to throw an uppercut as well as a few moves not sanctioned by any martial arts. But they’d been very effective. The skills she’d taught him had stopped a bully or two from beating him into a pulp, convincing them to finally leave him alone—all except Geoff.

  Sighing, Guy walked to the ten-foot table specially designed to hold fresh-cut flowers. Every five days they were completely replaced. He secretly believed it was Penelope’s way to do what she loved. No one else was allowed to touch it. He leaned over to smell their exquisite scents and admire the array—orchids, lilies, carnations and roses. It was beautiful.

  He glanced out the window that looked onto the rear of the property. Two of the four massive fish ponds, stocked with foreign exotic fish, were the focal points within the uniquely designed Japanese Garden. It was so lush with plants it had once been his favorite hiding place. Looking beyond the five acres of gardens, trees obscured some of the scruffy, forbidden area. It had been off limits to him, reinforced by Geoffrey more than once, especially the time he’d explored the boarded-up old shack at the far edge, unseen from the main house. The beating Geoffrey had given him for playing around the old building had cured any curiosity he might ever have had about it. It had just been another excuse for Geoffrey to hurt him. Guy had never told anyone but he’d learned to stay out of his uncle’s way. And since he’d failed miserably at piano, cello, the harp, the flute and even the guitar which he’d thought he’d be fabulous at, he’d had plenty of time to find ways to avoid the man.

  His grandmother had finally stopped paying for lessons, much to the delight of the poor musicians who’d had to work with his tone deafness.

  He went back through the house again, stopping every servant he encountered to ask about Bailey. When no one had seen her, he realized he needed to listen to the forty-pound weight that was churning in his stomach. Pulling out his cell he made a call.

  “Graham. We’ve got a problem. I can’t find Bailey.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean...” he proceeded to tell him what had transpired since they’d arrived. “I need you to find Geoffrey.”

  “On it. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Putting away his phone, he realized he’d been asking everyone the wrong question. Heading out the front door, he looked for Emilio, the head gardener.

  Rounding the west side, he strode toward the elaborate greenhouse with nearly eight thousand square feet of state of the art equipment. Emilio was working on growing tropical plants and large overhead fans whirred as they worked to keep the place at a constant temperature. Walking through the front door, Guy headed off to his right and stepped through the open door to the head gardener’s office—a smaller greenhouse, where he was working on developing flowering hybrids.

  “Hello, Emilio.”

  Carefully setting down the pot in his hand, Emilio turned with a big grin on his face. “Guy. Good to have you back. You stay long?”

  Guy smiled and shook his hand. “Not sure. I’m looking for a young woman—”

  Emilio grinned. “It’s about time.”

  “Ha ha. No, I brought a young woman with me to meet Grandma. Only she’s disappeared. Have you seen her?”

  “No. No young woman.”

  “How about Geoff, has he been around today?”

  Emilio shifted his eyes.

  “It’s okay, Emilio. I promise he won’t find out you told me.”

  He gave one sharp nod.

  “Do you know how he got here? I didn’t see his car or his driver.”

  “He drove.” Emilio started arranging soil and seeds in a long container.

  “Thanks, Emilio.” He left knowing he wouldn’t get any more from the gardener. All the employees were terrified of Geoffrey. Guy once thought he’d been the only recipient of his wrath but he’d soon learned that anyone Geoffrey, who considered everyone his inferior, was subject to his violence.

  So Geoffrey’s here. Where the hell is he? And what’s he going to do to Bailey?

  Guy didn’t understand it but he knew Geoff had Bailey. He called the guard house only to be told, “No, Geoffrey hasn’t come through the gate.” Guy had spent so much of his life running from the ogre that it dawned on him how many times he’d seen Geoffrey at the estate but not his car. So how had he gotten onto the fenced and gated property without coming through the front entrance?

  Thumping his fist against his thigh, there was one person who could answer his questions. He headed back into the house and flew up the five flights of stairs, two at a time. He knocked but entered the bedroom without permission. Her eyes were still shut. He gently shook her.

  “W-what?”

  “Grams, I need to know about Geoffrey.”

  She closed her eyes, and when she reopened them they were fu
ll of anguish.

  “What’s he done?”

  “I think he’s got Bailey. I can’t find her. He’s here but didn’t come through the front. Where is he?”

  If it was possible for her skin to grow any paler, it did. Her voice wobbled, “Help me up and into my chair.”

  He assisted her into a seated position. Once she was steady, he got her to her feet and held on tightly as he walked her the ten steps to a rocker situated by the window. After she was seated, he stepped back. She immediately looked out over the massive gardens, some planted just for her, so she’d have the best view from her window.

  “He’s really not an evil man, just a wounded one. Get me a glass of water, please.”

  Stepping to the oak cabinet, he pulled open the big doors, retrieved a glass from the shelf and filled it from the water cooler. He handed it to her then stepped back, shoving his hands into his pants pockets as he waited. Patience would hopefully get him some answers. There was one thing he’d learned early on, rushing Dorothea got him nowhere.

  “My mother tried to love Geoff but she always let him know he wasn’t good enough, which humiliated him to no end. Dad wasn’t any better. They should have been thrilled to have a son. I was nine when Geoffrey came along. I loved him from the moment I saw him. I took him everywhere and he idolized me.” Smiling sadly, she looked Guy in the eye. “At least until he did this.” She pulled up the side of her silk dress to show him a jagged scar that started at mid-thigh and continued below her knee.

  Though he tried to maintain a poker face, he could not mask his horror. “How?”

  Tears ran unimpeded down her face. “When he was seven or eight, he had a nightmare. I had gone to him to comfort him, but he didn’t want me; he wanted Mom. There’d been a huge party here that night. She’d let him come, only to make him a laughingstock. She’d had his pants hemmed different lengths. His shirt was too small. Two different shoes. She’d made him wear it all and then pointed it out to everyone, how simple he was that he couldn’t even dress properly. I tried to rescue him but he got mad and pushed me. I fell. Just bruised, nothing more. But that night after his nightmare, when he was running up the stairs to mom and dad’s suite, I followed. My parents were yelling.”