Deadly Offer (8 page)

“Hey, you okay?” Darby spoke quietly.

The girl looked up and nodded. “I’m just sitting here a minute.”

Darby regarded the lean-to with curiosity. “What is this place?”

“A little picnic spot for the guys who work in the fields. You know, so they can eat their lunch out of the sun.”

“Oh.” Darby paused. She guessed that she knew why Sophie was here. “Your dad’s pretty upset, huh?”

“I’m the one who should be upset,” Sophie said indignantly. “He picks me up at my friend’s house, practically explodes when we get in the car, and then he doesn’t even listen to me. I told him I didn’t drink that wine. The bottle was already empty.”

“Then why did you take it?”

“Because it was the last thing she was drinking!”

“Who? Selena?”

The teen nodded sullenly. “It sounds stupid, really stupid—but I thought he might want the bottle, for a kind of keepsake.”

“Your dad jumped to conclusions.”

She nodded emphatically. “Totally! As if I’d be drinking Carson Creek Pinot Noir!” She made an exasperated sound and rolled her eyes. “He’s always doing that. Like he thinks I’m some major loser or something.”

“I know he doesn’t think that. It’s just that he’s worried about you.”

“Yeah, well I’m the one who should be worried! He’s in total denial about his feelings for Selena, and now she’s gone, and it’s like the death of my mom all over again.” She put her head on her knees once more.

Darby’s heart ached for the girl. “Your dad will be okay. Why don’t you tell him that you’re concerned? I think he’d really like to communicate more with you.”

She looked up, seemed to consider Darby’s words, and then rolled her eyes once more.

“Give me a break. The last thing he wants to talk about with me is his love life.”

“What about telling him why you took the bottle? Wouldn’t that be a start?”

“Maybe.” She rose to her feet and wiped the back of her jeans with her hand. “I’m going to go for a walk. If you see my dad, please tell him I’ll be back at the house in a little while.” She managed a tiny grin. “Thanks, Darby.”

———

Dan Stewart shook his head in amazement when Darby told him about the wine bottle. “Sophie has this idea that Selena and I were lovers.” He sighed.

“Were you?”

He looked at her sharply before answering. “You can be kind of nosy, you know that?” He shrugged. “Sophie may have picked up on some of Selena’s vibes.”

“What do you mean?”

He raised his eyes upward as if avoiding her gaze. “I mean that Selena wanted to be more than friends.”

“I see. But you didn’t feel that way?”

“I liked her, respected her, and enjoyed her company. But I didn’t want to take it any further, and I certainly didn’t want to get married.” His ran a hand through his hair. “She knew how much I loved this place, so she suggested that we tie the knot even if I wasn’t in love with her. She said that way, if anything happened to her, I’d inherit the property.”

“When did she suggest that?”

“In the spring, before she decided to get serious about selling. I told her that I couldn’t do that, because it wouldn’t be honest. No matter how much I want Carson Creek, I can’t live a lie.”

Darby nodded. “Why don’t you talk about this with Sophie? I think she’d appreciate knowing how you feel.”

“I will.” He gave a rueful grin. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Out of curiosity, where is that bottle?”

“On my desk. I was about to put it in the recycling bin.” He gave her a strange look. “Why would you want it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a funny feeling, that’s all.”

Once inside the large red building, Darby told herself there was nothing special about the bottle on Dan’s desk. It bore the Carson Creek Estate & Winery label—a lovely watercolor of the property with a soft sunset behind it—and was made from heavy, dark colored glass. As Darby lifted it, she noticed a few tablespoons or so of liquid remained on the bottom. She pulled out the stopper, a cork with a glass ball on the top, and sniffed it. The odor was what she recalled from the glass of Carson Creek Pinot she’d enjoyed the night before.

Curious, Darby tilted the bottle gently and put a small amount of the ruby red liquid on her finger. She licked it with her tongue and let her taste buds go to work.

Blackberry, cherry, with a licorice finish
…
and something else.
The flavor was of a bold pinot noir mixed with something odd.

Darby replaced the stopper in the bottle. She carried it back to the house, determined to ask Dan about the wine’s strange taste. She found him in the kitchen, handing a set of keys to Carlos.

“These are for Selena’s truck,” he told him. “It’s the blue Subaru.
I just filled it with gas, so you’re all set.”

“Thanks.” Carlos nodded in Darby’s direction, his eyes bearing dark circles. “See you later.”

Darby was about to question Dan when ET entered, carrying Selena’s folders in one hand; and two coffee mugs in another. “I’m afraid my brother needs a little break,” he said, as the squeal of tires marked Carlos’ departure. “He wants to go for a drive in the country, clear his head.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Darby said. “It’s an awful lot to absorb at once.”

“Indeed.” He placed the folders on the kitchen table. “Sometimes I think that if Carlos and Selena had been closer, this wouldn’t
be so painful.”

“They weren’t close?”

“Not really. Carlos tried, but my sister kept her distance.”

“Do you think that was because of her illness?”

ET looked thoughtful. “No, she was always that way. Her independence didn’t bother me as much as it did my brother. Carlos couldn’t understand that she needed to break ties with us.” He frowned and put his hands on his hips. “Darby, we would like you to offer the property to the buyers next week, as soon as my sister’s mass is behind us.”

She nodded. “Fine. Assuming we get the go-ahead from Edward Martin, I’ll have it ready to go on Tuesday. I’ll need to figure out who can show the vineyard in my absence, but that shouldn’t be too difficult. I’ll interview a few agents as soon as possible.”

“Actually, that is something Carlos and I discussed. Would you consider staying here for just a few days more? Choosing one of the three buyers doesn’t seem like it will take long.” He gave her a hopeful look. “I know it is asking a lot, but Carlos and I cannot stay. Our plans are to depart as soon as possible following Selena’s funeral. It is just too painful for us.”

Darby thought quickly. She could do most of her work from Carson Creek, thanks to her smart phone. New listings—including her neighbor Doug Henderson’s home—could be shown by Claudia, and ET would be back in the office by Tuesday, providing assistance.

Darby thought back to Eric Sanchez, the speeding ticket, and her vow to slow down her hectic life. Here was a chance to do that as well as help a friend.

“I can stay for a few days if that’s what you’d like,” Darby assured him. “I agree that it seems this will be a quick deal to put together.” She paused. “Do we have a time for Selena’s service on Monday?”

Dan Stewart spoke up. He’d been stirring something in a bowl on the counter, and now he quietly interjected.

“Late morning at the Contento vineyards, as long as ET and Carlos think that’s appropriate. Margo has already begun working out the details.”

“Margo?” ET looked puzzled.

“She’s Tim Contento’s sister. Handles quite a bit of the corporate stuff for Contento Family Vineyards, and travels around the world promoting the wines. She thinks Selena’s funeral could draw quite a crowd, and wants to be prepared.”

“Oh.” ET looked exhausted. He held his forehead with a hand.

“I think what Dan is saying is that the Contentos will take care of the arrangements,” Darby said gently. “They were Selena’s friends and neighbors, as well as fellow vintners. They want to help.”

“That’s right. You’ll see, it will be beautiful. Margo wants to talk to you as soon as possible and get your and Carlos’ input. Her number is right here.”

ET nodded. “I see.” He took the piece of paper from Dan and glanced at the message. “I will call her, but first, perhaps I will go and lie down. I did not sleep very well last night.”

Darby and Dan watched him head out of the kitchen.

“Poor guy,” Dan said, shaking his head. “It just doesn’t get any easier.”

“No, but it’s wonderful that the Contentos are willing to host Selena’s service. Of course, they are also interested in purchasing this property. Do you think that’s part of their generosity?”

Dan reached up in a cabinet for a bag of sugar and measured out a cup. “I could be cynical and say yes, but the truth is, it’s just the way people are around here. We work together—celebrating each other’s successes and commiserating over the bad stuff. We trust each other. I know they want this property but they are doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”

She considered his explanation. “I’m starting to understand what a close-knit community this is. It’s really pretty special.”

“Definitely. Now you see why it was so important to Selena that she choose the right person to run Carson Creek. It’s more than just the transfer of a deed. There’s the whole fabric of the valley to consider.” He pushed the bowl aside and turned to face Darby. “By the way, I had a quick chat with Sophie while I drove her home. I think it helped.” He gave her a puzzled look. “What are you doing with that empty bottle?”

Darby had nearly forgotten that she was clutching it. “I’m curious as to why the wine inside has a funny taste.”

“What do you mean? That’s our best pinot.”

“I’m no expert, but I tasted a tiny bit. It has a strange afternote.”

Dan motioned for her to hand him the bottle. He poured a few drops onto a tablespoon and dipped his finger in. After tasting the wine on his finger he frowned. “You’re right. My guess is that Selena didn’t notice. Her senses were off, although she certainly didn’t complain about it much.”

Darby put the bottle on the counter. “Let’s hang on to this, Dan. I’d like to find out why this wine doesn’t taste the way it should.”

“You and me both,” he muttered.

Seven

Vivian Allen powdered her
nose in the rental car’s rearview
mirror.
Not bad for someone who’d had a very late night,
she thought.
A small blue pickup truck pulled into the diner’s parking lot, and Vivian resisted the urge to swivel around for a better look. She watched as Carlos Gomez climbed down from the cab and walked quickly across the tar.
Right on time
. He glanced over his shoulder but did not spot Vivian.

She checked her lipstick and applied another swipe.
Let him wait a few minutes, get a little anxious. Let him worry that perhaps I changed my mind
.

Another car, a small blue hybrid with advertising on the side, pulled in and a well-built man wearing dark sunglasses emerged. He strode toward the diner with purposeful steps.
Busy place
, thought Vivian. The newcomer reminded Vivian of someone, but the tall redhead could not place him. She shrugged and looked at her cell phone. If this little rendezvous went well, she’d have just enough time to make it to the concert pre-show at the polo grounds.

She grabbed her pink purse.
Turn on the charm,
she thought.

———

“So did that wine turn? Is that why it has an off taste?” Darby was spooning apples onto a bottom crust as Dan Stewart rolled out the top.

“Not in a matter of a few days.”

Darby wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Do you think it was bad when Selena uncorked it, but she drank it anyway?”

“Nope. We would have discovered other inferior bottles if that were true.”

Dan cut the top crust into strips and began creating a lattice pattern over the mounded apples. “That about does it.” He gestured toward the oven. “Want to open that for me?”

Darby complied. It was early afternoon, but already Dan had a delicious dinner ready for the house guests, so that they could have an early night without going out.

He turned to face her, taking off a white butcher’s apron as he did so. “I’ve got the timer set on that. Just put it on the counter to cool. The chicken and salad are all set, so you can spend the afternoon relaxing.” He hung up the apron. “I’m wiped out. I imagine the three of you are as well.”

“Carlos and ET are exhausted. This has taken such a toll on them emotionally. I’m okay, but I appreciate you going to all this trouble so that we can have a relaxing night. This kind of thing can’t be in your job description.”

“No problem.” He placed his hands on his hips. “Think I’ll head out; see what that teenager of mine has got planned for Saturday night. Good night, Darby. Thanks for your help with Sophie.”

“She’s a great girl. My pleasure.”

Darby heard the noise of Dan’s jeep as it crawled down the hill.
He’s such a good guy,
she thought.
No wonder Selena was attracted to him
. Her eyes fell on the bottle of Pinot Noir. Selena had been drinking it just before she died. Why did it have an aftertaste? It was almost as if something had been added.

Stop it,
she admonished herself, shaking her head.
You’re becoming one of those people imagining conspiracies at every turn.

Darby set the table in the dining room and glanced at her watch. As far as she knew, ET was still sleeping; Carlos still cruising among the valley’s many hills. Both of the brothers were dealing with their grief in very different ways.

The ring of the phone cut through her reverie, and she hastened to answer it before it disturbed ET.

“Darby?” An English accent, slightly hesitant. Her heart began to pound as she recognized the caller’s resonant voice.

“Miles? Where are you?”

“I’m in California. San Francisco, to be exact. I called your office and the secretary told me what happened to ET’s sister. I’m so sorry. She gave me this number.” He paused. “It’s wonderful to hear your voice.”

“I can’t believe it’s you. When did you leave Afghanistan?”

“Beginning of the week. It all came about so suddenly, I didn’t have time to tell you.”

“I understand. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“As safe as one can be riding these old wooden contraptions up some of the steepest hills in the world.”

She smiled, imagining the tall reporter clinging to one of San Francisco’s famous trolleys.

“What are your plans?”

“I’m hoping to come and see you.” He paused, and Darby felt as if a pit in her stomach opened wide. “I’d like to drive up to Ventano tomorrow. It’s been two months since we’ve seen each other. I can be there by ten.”

Darby held her breath as her emotions flashed from desire to dread and back again. She wanted to see him, and yet the idea was somehow petrifying. This wasn’t the best time for a visit, and yet, when would be the best time?
Admit it, you’re chicken
. Finally she took a breath and spoke.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Miles. Drive safely.”

———

Carlos, ET, and Darby were quiet as they ate the dinner Dan had prepared, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Darby wasn’t sure what the Gomez brothers were thinking, but she knew that her mind was flooded with images of Miles Porter, the journalist for the
Financial Times
she’d met only a few months before.

Miles had appeared on the island of Hurricane Harbor while Darby was dealing with the death of her aunt, and Darby could not deny that she’d felt an instant attraction to the tall Brit with the shock of dark hair and rugged face. When he’d left only a week after their initial meeting to serve as a journalist embedded in an Army unit in Afghanistan, she’d swallowed her disappointment and communicated several times with him via Skype. She’d often wondered whether the feelings she’d felt for him were genuine, or whether she’d imagined it all. Now, it seemed, she’d have the opportunity to answer her question.

“You are deep in thought, Darby,” Carlos commented, helping himself to a hefty portion of roast chicken. “What’s up?”

She debated telling him about the bottle of wine, but decided it was too strange an item with which to burden Carlos and ET. “A friend is arriving for a short visit tomorrow—someone I haven’t seen in awhile. He’s been in Afghanistan.”

“Miles Porter?” ET’s voice was smooth.

“Yes.” She felt herself blushing and quickly took a sip of wine to try and hide it. “I’m sure it will just be a quick hello.”

ET gave a little smile but said nothing.

Carlos cleared his throat. “I was thinking quite a bit while I was out driving around. I think we should sell this property to that woman who came by—Vivian, the one who had cancer. After all, she and Selena had a verbal agreement.”

ET nodded. “That has been troubling me as well, Carlos. I cannot bear to think that we would not uphold our sister’s wishes, if indeed those were her wishes.”

Darby passed the chicken to ET who speared another slice. “Do you still want me to offer Carson Creek to all the buyers, or just contact Vivian for a private sale?”

“Private sale,” said Carlos. “Why go through the whole rest of it?”

ET motioned for Carlos to pass the salad and took a second helping. “I disagree with you, brother. I would like to see what the other buyers feel about the property now that Selena has passed. Perhaps there will be additional interest as well. I don’t want to count on Vivian Allen, although she may be the one we choose.”

“Seems to me like a big waste of time.” Carlos stabbed a forkful of chicken and held it, ready to chew. “If we already know we want Vivian to have the vineyard.”

“I see your point. But I do not want to leave any stone unturned.” ET rose from the table, his shoulders uncharacteristically stooped. “I must head upstairs. Although I rested this afternoon, I am still very tired. Tomorrow we will meet with the Contentos to see what we need to do for Selena’s service. I hope I have the energy to do that.” With a sad smile, he left the room.

Darby turned from ET to Carlos, watching as he chewed his chicken with what seemed like furious speed. Suddenly he slammed down his fork. “I am so sick and tired of his slow, plodding pace! I’ve got things to do back in the city and he wants to drag his feet every second of the way. Vivian is here, she wants the property, and all we have to do is have her sign. Bingo! We’re done. But no, Rico’s gotta go through the whole damn process, just for the hell of it. I can’t stand it.”

Darby remained quiet, listening to Carlos’ rant. She understood how infuriating it could be to accommodate differing operating styles. She herself could lose patience with people who analyzed every single step of a process before ever taking action. But Carlos’ annoyance at his brother seemed to be misplaced.
He’s tired, and he’s grieving,
she reminded herself as she watched Carlos attack the rest of his food.
Everyone grieves differently.

“I’ll do my best to make sure this goes as smoothly and quickly as possible, Carlos. I know how difficult this is for you.”

He looked up and Darby was surprised to see his eyes filled with tears. “I loved my little sister. We fought a heck of a lot, but she always saw the best in me.”

Darby rose and put a hand on his shoulder. Carlos nodded, rose from the table, and gathered his plate and silverware. Nodding toward the kitchen, he said quietly, “I need some time alone. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Darby nodded and headed out of the dining room, leaving Carlos clearing the plates.

———

The polo grounds were jammed with cars, and Vivian Allen began
to think that coming had been a mistake. Parking her rental car as
close as she could to the stage, the tall redhead began trudging across
the trampled grass toward the entrance. What possessed all of these people to pay so much money to come to these things? She looked
around to try and gauge the demographic. Teenagers with torn jean
s
and the requisite piercings, young couples holding hands as they wove their way through the parked cars, and older fans carrying lawn
chairs and coolers. A mixture of ages, thought Vivian, a testament to pop star Veronica’s ability to captivate any and all with her quirky songs and energetic shows.

Vivian ducked as a neon green Frisbee careened through the air, narrowly missing her left temple. She hugged her pink pocketbook more tightly as the throngs grew even larger. Swept up in the crowd, she was carried by the current of ticketholders headed toward the gate.

Muscular security guards stood watch, peering into backpacks and coolers for alcohol. Vivian opened her purse and the guard waved her on. She presented her ticket to another burly man and began looking for her seat.

———

In Darby’s dream, she was in a war-torn city, creeping through a maze of bombed-out buildings. She entered an empty room in which the ceiling had been blown away to expose blue sky. Chunks of plaster littered the floor and in the distance she heard a baby crying. She was searching for something, someone …

Trying not to make a sound, Darby crept around the room, her heart thudding with fear. A pile of rags lay in the corner, and she kicked at it with her toe. To her horror, it began to move …

She woke with a rush at the sound of a heavy door slamming shut.

Eleven-thirty
. Who was coming to the vineyard at this hour? She rose and looked out her bedroom window.

Dan Stewart’s jeep was parked in the middle of the drive. She glanced toward the fields and saw him running, a solitary figure in the pale moonglow.

Darby threw a sweatshirt over her nightgown and pulled on a pair of jeans. Shoving on her sneakers, she moved rapidly down the stairs, out the door, and into the driveway, then beyond, to the neat rows of vines.

The vineyards were bathed in moonlight and the air was sharp and brisk. The temperature had dropped a few degrees more and Darby saw silvery frost on the leaves of the grapes.

Dan was in the middle of the field.

“What’s going on?” she cried.

His face was wild. “Someone’s cut the sprinkler lines. We’re going to lose the grapes.”

“Cut the lines?”

“Yes. The sprayer system—it provides frost protection.” He turned to Darby, his face grim. “Every line that I’ve seen has been sliced open. This is sabotage. Selena was right—someone is trying to destroy Carson Creek.”

The gravity of Dan’s words hit Darby like a slap. “I’ll get Carlos and ET,” she yelled, beginning to run toward the house.

“Hurry!” Dan implored. “Tell them if we don’t save these grapes tonight, they won’t have a vineyard to sell!”

Seconds later, Darby bounded up the stairs to the guest bedrooms. The brothers were groggy, but shook themselves awake once they understood the seriousness of the situation.

Dan met them in the barn and handed them rolls of duct tape. “We’re going to try a patch job first. If repairing the lines doesn’t work, we’ll have to drape fabric over the vines.” He told them where to locate the hoses that carried the water, and how to check for damage. “As long as we can fix the system enough so that it sprays the plants soon, we have a fighting chance.”

“You think this was done deliberately?” ET’s face was haggard in the moonlight.

“You can bet your life on it,” Dan said. “And don’t ask me to guess who’s to blame. What we need to do now is try to save those grapes.”

Darby took her roll of tape and headed off into the vines. She followed the snaking lines of the sprayer system until she found a break. The ends were severed neatly, without any ragged edges, and Darby quickly ripped off a piece of tape and secured them together. Then she continued down the row.

As soon as the team finished one field, Dan turned on the sprinkler system to see if it worked. When water sprayed out over the vines, the small group cheered. “Okay,” Dan commanded. “Now we have to finish the other two fields.”

It was nearly three in the morning when the exhausted Gomez brothers and Darby climbed into their beds, the roar of Dan’s truck as he headed home echoing in their ears. He’d been cautiously optimistic about the health of the fruit. “I think we caught it just in time,” he muttered.