3 Savor Page 12

  “I didn’t want to say it in front of Billie. She’s suffered enough at his hand. But sure. It is possible. I don’t think it’s probable but I’m not ruling him out until we catch whoever is responsible.”

  She didn’t know how to feel at first about Handel saying the words out loud, but it actually put some of her fears to rest. She wasn’t the only one expecting Sean Parker to pop out from behind a tree one night. With her brother’s admission, the threat seemed much more insignificant. If their father ever showed up, they would deal with him together.

  He moved to the bench and pulled on the extra pair of work gloves. “Let’s clean up this mess and then you can tell me what it is I missed while I was in the hospital.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, dusting off her bare knees. Little indentations in her skin showed where she’d knelt on gravel while she cut the vines. It was a hot day, but she probably should have worn long pants. “Nothing much happened around here. We’ve just been getting ready for an early harvest. What with all this crazy weather.” She glanced around at the smashed clusters on the ground. “Another week or two and I would have harvested this crop for another batch. Carl’s been asking for more cases of Margaret’s Wine every year and I have a couple of private cellars to stock as well.”

  “I didn’t realize you were such an entrepreneur,” he said, wresting a vine from the tangle on the ground. A clump of smashed grape flew up and hit him in the face, leaving a smudge of rosy juice behind. He raised his shoulder and wiped it off on the sleeve of his shirt. “Actually, I was talking about you and Adam. You two looked pretty cozy last night. Thought you were going to take it slow. Did something change?”

  He asked the question casually but she could tell he was concerned. After her track record with Davy’s father, he probably thought she wasn’t qualified to make romantic decisions without help. She picked up some vines and followed behind him as he carried his load toward the pile behind the shed. “We have been taking it slow. I know you’ve been busy with your new wife and this big murder case of yours, but the rest of us do carry on with our lives even when you’re not paying attention,” she said, and then was immediately ashamed. Handel had been in a coma for a week and she didn’t know if he would make it. She would have given her right arm to guarantee her brother’s recovery and yet now she was irritated with him because he was worried about her.

  She threw the armload of vines on the pile and put a hand on his arm to stop him from hurrying off for another load. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. This whole thing has me on edge.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t have to answer to me. You’re not a kid anymore and I should stop thinking of you that way. You’re a smart business woman, a great mom, and a passable sister. I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.” She grinned. “I’m happy being Davy’s mom. I’m happy being your sister. I’m happy being chief winemaker at Fredrickson’s.” She paused and cleared her throat for emphasis. “And I’m really happy to tell you that I’m in love with your brother-in-law.”

  He was quiet for a moment as he digested the news. Then he pulled her into his arms and patted her awkwardly on the back. “That’s great, Meg. I’m happy for you too.” He pulled back momentarily and held her at arms length, smiling into her eyes. “Really, I am. But that won’t stop me from telling Adam that if he does anything to hurt you, he will answer to me.”

  “I’m sure he’ll take your threats very seriously,” she said, trying not to grin.

  “Come on. Let’s finish cleaning this up and I’ll take you out for a celebratory iced mocha.”

  “You’re on.”

  •••••

  Billie sat at her desk in her winery office and stared at the closed door. Sally had called on the intercom and asked if she wanted to eat pizza with everybody in the conference room, but she really wasn’t hungry after the late breakfast she had with Handel. There was mail she needed to go through and bills to pay, but she couldn’t stop replaying Handel’s phone conversation with Hosea Garcia over and over in her head.

  At the winery music festival on Saturday, Garcia had seemed very intimidating, almost threatening. But Handel said that on the phone he was quite the opposite. Was it possible that the voice on the phone and the man she’d spoken with were actually two different people? Could someone have used Garcia’s phone to make the call so that he wouldn’t be identified? Or was Garcia playing both sides of the fence, wanting to have revenge on whoever killed his lover but not wanting to get himself fingered in the process?

  Loud voices in the hallway outside her office alerted her to trouble two seconds before Sally threw open the door, her eyes wide with excitement. “Billie, there’s a fire at Margaret’s place. Looks like her potting shed. I already called the fire department, but I sent the boys over to see if they could help,” she said, obviously referring to Ernesto, Sammie, and Loren. “They took the pickup.”

  Billie was out of her chair and running down the hall before Sally had finished. She flew out the front door, and ran across the parking lot, staring toward the south vineyards and the Parker house. Smoke billowed up from the back end of the shed, thick and black. She opened the side door of the garage and pushed the button. The garage door went up and she stood there staring at the empty space where her Mazda usually sat. Handel must have gone out somewhere.

  She opened the door of the BMW, but remembered she didn’t have the key. It was hanging in the house on the key holder beside the refrigerator. Sirens wailed from about a mile away. Good. The fire truck was nearly here.

  Sally caught up with her, panting like a middle-aged woman carrying fifty extra pounds, although she was only twenty-nine and skinny as a rail. “Billie!” she stopped to catch her breath. “Loren called on his cell. The fire’s not as bad as it looks. It was lucky the wood behind the shed was still green and Margaret has an extra large hose hooked up down there. He said there’s a lot more smoke than fire.”

  “Thank God.” Billie breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t think Margaret can handle any more damage to her vines. She was pretty upset last night.”

  “Why, what happened?” Sally suddenly perked up, eager to know the latest. “I had to hear secondhand about the vandals shooting through your window. Come on, what gives? If I don’t know what’s going on around here, how am I supposed to spread juicy rumors?”

  Billie shared the latest vandal action with her overeager secretary as she headed for the back door of the house. Sally followed, not wanting to miss a thing. When she had the key to the car in hand, they both got in and she drove to Margaret’s, not far behind the fire truck just turning in the driveway.

  “Holy moly,” Sally said, using her favorite corny phrase for anytime something was out of the ordinary. “This just keeps getting more and more bizarre.”

  Smoke was still billowing up from the back of the shed but the fire truck was completely unnecessary, because by the time they had their boots on the ground, Sammie and Ernesto had taken out the fire with the garden hose. After making sure everything was thoroughly doused, the firefighters climbed back in their truck and backed away.

  Loren ran up to where Sally and Billie were watching from a distance, trying to stay out of the way of the firefighters, but mostly trying to avoid the smoke. “The men in yellow said it was a good thing we got here so quick. The back wall of Margaret’s shed is damaged but it could have been much worse. Luckily, it didn’t spread to the vineyard.”

  “That is good news.” Billie shot Loren a thankful smile. “You guys were great.” She glanced around and up at the house. “Has anyone seen Margaret? It’s strange she wasn’t outside working in the vineyard.” A niggling worry inched its way up her spine. With all the strange things that had been happening, it wouldn’t be surprising to find that the fire was not an accident.

  Loren hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “She was out here earlier cause she’s been planting new clippings in pots down there. Looks like she took out s
ome of the old vines for some reason.” He frowned. “With hanging fruit on them.”

  “She didn’t take them out,” Billie said, her voice grim.

  “What do you mean?”

  She glanced at Sally. “Cue the information secretary. I’m gonna go down and talk to Ernesto and Sammie.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll fill him in,” Sally promised.

  Billie glanced at the dozens of pots Margaret had filled and set in a row. A couple of them had been tipped over in the rush to put out the fire. She bent down and scooped dirt back in before arranging the cuttings upright once again.

  “Miss Fredrickson,” Ernesto called from the corner of the potting shed, waving a hand for her join them. He was always so formal, refusing to call her by her first name, but seemed to forget that Parker was her married name now.

  When she hurried over, he pointed at a lump of melted red plastic in a pile of charred and still smoking vine stumps. She squinted as acrid smoke bellowed up in her eyes and pulled the neckline of her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose. “What is it?” she asked against the thin material.

  He coughed and poked at it with a stick, turning it over. “A gas container. See. The nozzle is melted flat.”

  Sammie was still spraying water here and there, making sure no spark rekindled the flames. He nodded toward the burned back wall of the shed. Fire had burned through in spots, but the structural damage was minute. “I doubt Margaret left that container down here. There’s no tools in there powered by gas. So, whoever did this brought his own fuel.”

  “Are you sure?” Billie hated to think the winery was being targeted but that’s what it looked like. At least when it was supposedly connected to the murder trial, it made more sense. Now, she didn’t know what to think.

  Sammie pointed up the hill. Handel and Margaret were just climbing out of the Mazda. “Ask her yourself,” he said.

  Margaret didn’t wait for Loren’s retelling of the story, but ran down the hill toward the scene of the crime, blonde ponytail swinging behind her. “What happened?” she yelled, zoning in on the newly potted cuttings, eyes flashing over her vineyard and back to the shed.

  Billie stepped forward, dipping her chin toward the pots. “It’s okay. None of your vines were damaged. The guys knocked over a couple pots getting back here is all. The fire started in your rubbish pile and climbed the back wall of the shed.”

  “Started how?” Margaret rounded the shed and stopped, staring at the smoldering, damp mess. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Handel and I just pulled those dead vines back here before we left to get coffee. We weren’t gone that long.” She pointed at the melted, red container. “And I don’t own a gas can like that.”

  Ernesto poked at it with his stick again.

  “If I get my hands on them,” Sammie muttered under his breath.

  When Handel joined them the guys repeated their earlier assessment of the situation, then he walked carefully around the scene and took pictures of the damage with his cell phone. “I’ll call Officer Torn. He’s already working on this vandal problem and knows what we’ve been dealing with.” He put a hand on Margaret’s back. “Come on. There’s nothing to do here now. The guys have it under control.”

  They trudged back up to the house. “When is Davy coming home?” Billie asked.

  Margaret pushed a wisp of stray hair behind her ear. “Joan said she’d get all the boys back home by four,” she said. “It was his first sleepover. He was pretty excited. They were going to the county fair today.”

  “Well, when he gets home why don’t you two come over for dinner?” She glanced at Handel and he nodded. Not that it would keep the vandals from more destruction but she knew Handel would feel better about having his family nearby.

  “I don’t know. They showed up both times when I was gone. Someone needs to be home to keep an eye out.” Her voice turned droll. “Maybe I should trade Rambo in for a guard dog.”

  “If you change your mind you know where we are.”

  Sally rode back to the winery with them, but Loren stayed behind to drive Ernesto and Sammie. She was unusually quiet in the back seat until they pulled up to the winery’s front door to let her out. “You two be careful now. I don’t know what’s going on around here but someone clearly has it in for your family.”

  “We will. Thanks, Sally.” Handel waved and drove the short distance to the garage, pulled in and shut off the ignition. They both just sat there as though unsure what to do next.

  In the lengthening silence he reached out and clasped her hand.

  •••••

  In spite of the early impromptu barbecue at Margaret’s place that afternoon, Handel decided to cook outside on the grill for dinner. Like his sister, he excelled at the perfect steak, so Billie was happy to let him take care of business.

  It was a beautiful evening. The air was warm and heady with the scent of ripe grapes and a gentle breeze played over leaves on nearby vines and trees. A blur of bright red caught Billie’s attention as a cardinal flitted from branch to branch calling his mate.

  She heard voices and looked across the field. Margaret had called earlier to say she’d changed her mind about joining them for dinner. She and Davy came bearing gifts; Davy carried a bottle of Dr. Pepper and Margaret a bottle of her wine. She wore a blue and white sundress with white flip flops, her hair tied loosely back with a ribbon, and looked more like a Disney princess than a mom.

  Davy was eager to share all his adventures from the fair and kept on talking until it was time to eat. He proudly wore his 4-H t-shirt and was upset when he accidentally dropped a blob of mustard in the middle of it. “Aww, shoot! I was going to wear this tomorrow too,” he said, pulling his shirt up to lick at the spot.

  Margaret rolled her eyes. “I think you’ll survive one day while it’s in the wash. Besides, you have soccer again tomorrow and you’ll be wearing your jersey.”

  He stuffed the rest of his hotdog into his mouth and tried to talk while chewing. “Can Adam drive me tomorrow too? He said he’d drive me everyday if you gave the okay.”

  Billie laughed at the ironic picture they made. Margaret was simply beautiful without trying. Her son, his mouth stuffed full and mustard staining his shirt, was a mess without trying. Adam fit into that mix perfectly. A beautiful mess.

  “We’ll talk about this later. Corvette or no Corvette, you can’t just ask Adam to drive you around like he’s your chauffeur.” She handed him a napkin.

  Davy sighed heavily before taking the napkin from her hand as though using it would offend his sensibilities. Instead of cleaning the catsup and mustard on the corner of his mouth he used it to wipe at the spot on his shirt again, leaving traces of white paper behind. “He said he didn’t mind,” he said, continuing the argument. “I told Heidi that he might let her have a ride.”

  “Davy!” She shook her head. “You can’t make promises over something in which you have no say. Even if Adam were to agree to that, Heidi’s mom would probably not. And I wouldn’t blame her.”

  Billie intervened. “Davy, could you go inside and get the black olives? I completely forgot them. They’re in the side door of the refrigerator.”

  “Sure.” He hopped up from the picnic table and ran toward the back door.

  “Nice. Instant obedience. How do you do that?” Margaret asked.

  Billie shrugged. “Easy. I’m not his mom. You’ve got a tough job and kids are never truly grateful until they have to go through parenting themselves.” She tipped her head to the side and made a face. “At least that’s what my mom tells me.”

  “Oh, I forgot,” Handel said. “She called.”

  “When?”

  “This afternoon when Margaret and I were at the coffee hut,” Handel slipped a bite of T-bone steak into his mouth and chewed around his words. “Said she wanted to check up on me cause you hadn’t called her back.”

  “I hope you didn’t tell her about the vandals. You know how she is. If she thought I nee
ded her, she’d be out here in a flash. That’s the last thing we need.” Billie set her fork down. “She’s been acting odd lately as it is. Bungee jumping, going to stock car races, Jet-skiing. Do you think it’s a late mid-life crisis or an early second childhood?”

  Davy ran out the back door with the jar of olives, Adam following on his heels. “Adam’s here!” he shouted unnecessarily.

  A soft blush stole over Margaret’s cheeks when Adam stopped behind her. She turned her face up for a kiss. “I didn’t think you’d make it. Thought you had to rehearse or something,” she said.

  Billie moved over to make room for him on the bench across from Margaret. He slipped his long legs over the seat and leaned with his elbows on the table, his smile directed at the girl in blue. “I got hungry,” he said simply.

  She blushed deeper.

  “Okay then.” Billie handed him a plate with a grilled steak and baked potato, then pushed salad and pasta bowls toward him. “Have at it.”

  He wolfed down a few bites of steak as though he hadn’t eaten all day before pausing to ask, “Did you get those cuttings done that you talked about?”

  Margaret nodded, her face pensive. She glanced toward Davy who was busy trying to juggle walnuts fallen from a nearby tree. “It’s been a busy day,” she said.

  Handel picked up his empty plate and jars of condiments and moved toward the house. “Davy! Make yourself useful.”

  When they were both in the house putting things away, Billie told Adam about the fire. “No one was in any serious danger,” she was quick to point out, seeing the way he reached for Margaret’s hand. “The back wall of the shed will need to be repaired but other than that…” she shrugged.

  “What did the police say? Are they doing anything about it? What do they need before they make an arrest – a dead body?” He sat back, anger quickly replacing worry in his eyes.

  Margaret pushed her plate aside. “We’ve seen this guy. He was at the music festival.” She looked at Billie. “Why aren’t they arresting him? Didn’t you tell them he was the one?” she asked, joining forces with Adam. Apparently she’d decided her father was no longer her top suspect.