Almost Forever (16 page)

“Need some help?”

Sherry nodded. “Know what you're doing?”

“I worked at a bar when I was in college. And since there are no mixed drinks, I can handle pours.”

“Knock yourself out. Just watch for the ones who've had a little too much and cut them back.”

Justin turned to the first guest, who happened to be Jerry Winston.

“Hey. You're that Ranger guy, right?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Mr. Winston, how are you? The name's Justin.”

“Are you undercover?” The man laughed loudly.

“Nah, I'm just moonlighting. Law enforcement doesn't pay all that well. I'm always a little short at Sam's Club, you know?”

“What is there to drink?”

“Pretty limited. Lori said to let everyone know we've got a port that was put up nine years ago. It was Mark's favorite.”

“Perfect. There's something poetic about drinking a dead man's best wine.” Jerry's smile was smug.

Justin poured a glass of port and set it in front of Jerry.

“Leave the bottle.” Jerry placed his hand over the bottle to ensure the result.

“Sure thing. Anyone else coming from the Winston household?” Justin asked casually.

“I doubt it. My wife says I embarrass her when I drink, and I suspect you know the story about Mark and my sister, Kimmy.”

Justin shook his head. “I haven't heard.”

“Fucking jackass got caught in the barn with my sister…just two months after he married Lori.” His nostrils flared angrily. That was one memory he hadn't shared at the podium.

“I heard Mark screwed around a lot.”

“That's an understatement, Ranger. I'm not surprised that someone killed him.” Jerry downed his drink and poured himself another. “Do you have any suspects yet?”

“Hey, I'm just a bartender today. And this is a party. Enjoy the port.”

Justin moved on to another customer, and then another. He noticed when Lori reentered the room and wove her way through the guests. When she got to the bar, her face was ashen, and she looked like she was about to faint. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I'm getting through it. But I think I need a drink.” She leaned heavily on the bar and sighed. “Meeting all of Mark's old girlfriends is not something I can do sober.”

Justin felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. He poured her a generous glass of chardonnay. “Which one is the woman everyone thought Mark had run off with?”

Lori looked around the room until her gaze settled on a group of people at the far side of the room. “That one…in the black dress.”

“Which one? Most of the women are in black dresses.”

“The one by the post over there.” Lori pointed as inconspicuously as possible.

“Do you know her name?”

“Stella or Susan or something, but she was a waitress at the Giddy-up Bar in town and used to come here all the time. Then when Mark didn't come home, she stopped coming around. I heard through another regular that she had left town the same day that Mark did. I guess everyone just put two and two together.”

“I'll check her out.” He glanced at Lori with genuine alarm. “You'd better go easy on the alcohol. You didn't eat any lunch.”

She smiled. “You were watching me?”

“Always.” Their gazes met and locked, until Justin felt like someone might notice. He turned away and poured a glass of the port wine. “I'll see what I can find out.” He placed the glass on a serving tray and navigated through the crowd until he was in front of the mystery woman. She was stunning. Long legs, slender body, high cheekbones, and flowing jet black hair draped over her shoulders. Her lips were full and bright red and her hazel eyes sparkled as she smiled at him.

“Ma'am, may I offer you a glass of the winery's finest port wine?” he said.

“I shouldn't.” In spite of her denial, the tilt of her head betrayed her. She was assessing him with as much interest as he was her.

“Mrs. Roberts asked that I let everyone know this was Mr. Roberts's personal favorite and was made the year before he disappeared.”

She looked up at Justin before removing the glass from his tray. “Thank you. I remember that year well. It was one of my favorites.” She took a sip and smiled. “Delicious.”

“You've been a friend of the winery for some time, then?” he asked in a conversational tone.

She took another sip. “Over thirteen years. I moved to Vegas about the time Mark disappeared…or died, I guess it was.” She raised her eyebrows.

“You knew him pretty well?”

“
Very
well. When he was single and engaged and engaged again…actually.”

“My name is Justin, by the way.”

“Oh, hi…I'm Sylvia Wayne.”

“Did you move back recently, Ms. Wayne?”

“Please, call me Sylvia. And no, I just came back for Mark's memorial.” She finished her glass of port and set it back on the tray. “I think I'll get another. It was nice talking with you.” She smiled and walked back toward the bar.

Terri and several others at the end of the bar waved toward Sylvia, and she headed to where they were seated. Whoever she was, she was part of the group who were not here to grieve Mark's death. Justin returned to the bar. The group was getting pretty rowdy. “Let's switch ends,” he said to Sherry, and she was more than happy to let him deal with them. He opened a bottle of port and walked down to the other side. “Looks like we have some empty glasses down here.”

“Fill 'em up,” Jerry said, his words considerably more slurred than they had been.

Justin saw the other bottle of port Jerry had commandeered was now empty. He kept a firm grip on the new bottle as he poured the dark red liquid into fresh glasses, then set the bottle behind the bar before distributing the drinks.

“Cheers to the bartender.” Jerry led the toast as they attempted a group glass clinking but failed.

Justin smiled and nodded as he cleared all the dirty glasses off the bar. “I'm here for you.” Every bit of that statement was true.

Jerry looked at the group around him and did a double take when he saw Sylvia. Apparently he hadn't noticed her walk up to them. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked bluntly.

“I've been here for about an hour, Jerry. Where have you been?” She laughed, a cool, confident sound.

“Fuck you have. I belong here because I'm an old family friend. Your only claim to Mark was that you two ran off together on that day. I would think you'd be ashamed to show your face here.”

Sylvia's eyes went cold. “What day was that, Jerry?”

“The day he died.” Jerry waited for her reply.

So did Justin. He'd wanted to ask that question but hadn't had enough of an in.

“How would I know where he was?” She gave an elegant shrug.

“Didn't you run away with him? I heard you did,” Terri spoke up.

“Mark and I had something very special.” Sylvia's voice died as she stared at her glass. She frowned as if a painful memory had just resurfaced. It was the first real emotion she had shown.

The group grew silent and Justin hung back, observing the dynamics.

“Mark was playing everyone the day he disappeared, wasn't he?” Terri asked.

“Why do you say that?” Sylvia asked.

“Think about it, girl. We all heard he was divorcing his wife. He led me to believe he was coming back to me,” Terri started to explain.

“That's a lie. He had already rented us an apartment and was going to meet me there.”

“But someone didn't want him to leave,” Terri pointed out, then started laughing.

“What's so funny?” Jerry asked.

“I'd like to know if someone cut his dick off. That would tell you something, wouldn't it?” She laughed again.

“Shit, that's sick,” Sylvia commented.

“But true.” Terri wobbled and almost fell off her stool. “I heard all they found was bones.”

Sylvia shuddered. “I couldn't believe that he didn't show up or call. But by then, he was probably already dead.”

Jerry looked around and noticed that the wake was breaking up. “I'd better head home before I pass out.” He stood and swayed. Justin watched, half expecting the man to hit the ground.

“Let me get someone to drive you home,” Justin suggested.

“I'll drop you off,” Sylvia said. “It's on my way back to the hotel.”

Jerry waved off her offer. “I've driven home worse off than this.” He stumbled toward the door.

Justin couldn't in good conscience let the man drive. “I'll take you home,” he insisted. “You can pick up your car tomorrow.” There must have been authority in his tone, because Jerry shrugged and nodded.

“Fine. I've got to go to the john first.”

“I'll handle this,” Justin told Sherry.

“Good. He's wasted and shouldn't be behind the wheel,” she agreed.

“Tell Mrs. Roberts I'll be right back.”

Justin rounded the bar and waited for Jerry to get out of the bathroom. “We'll take your car. Give me your keys.” He hated leaving Lori alone, but he had no other choice.

Jerry was beyond arguing, and he handed Justin the keys.

The rain was still pouring down, and it took longer than he expected. When he finally got back to the winery, all of the other guests had left. Justin parked Jerry's car in the space by the front door and ran inside.

Lori, Raquel, and Raúl had cleared all the tables and put them back in their regular places. Sherry was just finishing up cleaning the bar area. Lori walked up to her.

“Hey, Sherry, great job. Thanks a lot.” Lori held out three hundred-dollar bills. Sherry shook her head. “That's very generous, ma'am. You're already paying me double time. I didn't expect a tip.”

Lori tucked it into the small pocket of Sherry's vest. “I couldn't have done it without you.”

Reluctantly Sherry smiled. “You didn't have to, but thank you. See you tomorrow.” Lori went behind the bar and got the last bottle of Mark's port. “Want some?” she offered Justin as she held the bottle up.

“Not that stuff. But I'll take a beer if you've got one back there.”

She got a mug and filled it with Shiner Bock. “Good old Texas beer,” she said. “And I'll have a glass of good old Texas port.” She poured some in a glass and leaned forward on the bar. “So, how was your day?” she asked Justin.

“As funerals go, it was at the top of my list.”

She laughed. “Thanks for helping out behind the bar. Sorry I don't have a tip for you.”

“Actually, we're not allowed to accept tips…money, that is.” He gave her a roguish wink. “I did get a couple come-ons from the female guests.”

“I figured you'd attract some attention. A funeral can be better than a dating service. I know that you're a workaholic and meeting girls is probably tough. They're usually either dead or guilty as sin.”

“You're right about that,” he agreed. “I don't meet many virgins, nuns, or girls on full rides to Vassar.”

Lori chuckled. “You looked pretty chummy with the mystery woman. Did she cast you under her spell too?”

“You were right about her and Mark. I can't be sure, but I suspect the ring was for her. They had plans to run away to Vegas and live happily ever after.”

“Or in Mark's case two or three years. I'm just glad it's over.” Lori lifted her glass. “To Mark. Farewell, good riddance, and rest in peace.”

Justin clinked his mug against her glass. “Actually, I found out a lot more than that. I'm still suspicious of Winston and maybe Terri's father. Unfortunately, there were no black Dodge trucks in the parking lot. But I've got some good information to follow up on Monday.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Tell me something. Do you take this much personal interest in all your suspects?”

Justin seemed to consider his words carefully. “Honestly? No…no, I don't.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why me? Why take such an interest in my case?”

Justin took his time answering as he took a big drink from the mug. “Because I think you're worth it. You've built a great life and raised a beautiful daughter. You work hard and you deserve a break.”

Before she could answer, Raquel returned after finishing prep in the kitchen.

“Chef Bradley just left. Raúl has locked everything up,” she said. “All you have to do is lock the patio door after you leave.”

Lori massaged the back of her neck. “Thanks, Raquel. You were amazing today. We're going to Justin's grandmother's place tomorrow so Kenzie can ride their ponies, so it's in your hands.”

Raquel seemed pleased that Lori trusted her so completely. “Don't worry about anything here. I'll take care of it.” She glanced over at Mark's urn and did a quick sign of the cross. “You're not going to leave that there, are you?” Raquel's eyes grew huge and she shook her head vehemently.
“Está muerto.”
Again she crossed herself and backed away.

“Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it,” Lori said. “It won't be here in the morning.”

Raquel was visibly relieved. “Good night, Miss Lori. Enjoy your visit tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Good night.” Lori watched Raquel leave with obvious affection.

“You're lucky to have them,” Justin commented.

“They're more than employees. They're part of my family.”

Justin finished his beer, and Lori took the mug and washed it and her glass. She sighed and went to Mark's urn. “Are you up for a little mud?” she asked Justin.

Fifteen minutes later, she had exchanged her pumps for a pair of knee-high rubber boots and a yellow rain coat. Justin too had taken off his cowboy boots and was wearing a matching raincoat and boots.

There was still a steady drizzle as they slogged through puddles and mucky earth, following the beam of her flashlight until they reached a gnarled grapevine in the middle of a row. Lori handed Justin the flashlight, then opened the urn and without ceremony poured Mark's ashes all around the plant.

“Why here?” Justin asked.

“This was the first vine his grandfather planted. All of his family has had their ashes sprinkled here. They said it was biblical. You know, earth to earth, ashes to ashes. I think they wanted to become part of the vines.”

“Looks like it worked. This vine seems pretty healthy.”

Lori recapped the urn. “I hope Mark doesn't kill it.”

They made their way back down the row and to the stables where Lori set the urn on a shelf with several others. She knew it was kind of a creepy tradition, but she could sort of understand it. Farmers loved their land and vintners loved their grapevines. It was strangely poetic.

They took off the mud-caked boots and raincoats and left them outside on the front porch. Inside her house the air was almost too cool against their wet skin. Lori hugged herself and shivered. Her hair had come loose and hung around her face in damp tendrils, with her ponytail a soggy mass. She was sure she looked like something the cat dragged in.

Part of her wished Justin would hold her against his body. She needed his warmth. More than that, she wanted to snuggle up next to him, naked and uninhibited. But the man across from her kept his distance. He was clearly determined to keep his promise.

“Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to take a hot shower and go to bed,” she said. “It's been a tough day.” She watched his expression for any sign that he had anything else in mind. But he just nodded.

“Sounds like a plan. See you in the morning.” He headed off to do his regular rounds of making sure all the downstairs windows and doors were locked, but he paused and looked back at her. “You were wonderful today.” Then he walked out of sight toward the living room.

Lori sighed and trudged up the stairs in her bare feet. It was rare that Mackenzie spent the night somewhere else, and the house was unusually quiet. Lori felt good knowing that Justin would be here, but that was a mixed blessing. Knowing he was just down the hall made her imagination run wild. Did he sleep in the nude? Pajama bottoms? Shorts? Were his dreams as filled with her as hers were of him?

She took a long shower, careful to leave enough hot water for him. Her water heater was way past its prime and not as big as it needed to be. Another expense for another day, not one she would worry about tonight. She dried her hair and put on a shorty nightgown.

Her bed looked huge and very empty. She turned off the overhead light, pulled back the covers, and slid between the cool sheets. After such a mentally exhausting day, she should have fallen right to sleep.

Instead, she lay there, flipping from side to side, from back to front, checking the time on the clock every fifteen minutes. The truth was she was obsessed with the knowledge that only steps away was a man who ignited fires within her that she hadn't even known existed. It was more than just the sex, and even though it had only happened once, it had been wonderful and memorable. Justin made her feel soft and feminine and oh so cherished. Every other element of her life required her to be strong and fearless. But he let her be vulnerable and just herself.

Lori glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost two a.m. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and fumbled around in the nightstand drawer. After she found what she was looking for, she sucked in a deep breath, tossed her hair over her shoulders, and walked out of her room and down the hall.