River Road (22 page)

D
eke waited until he heard the outer door close behind Mason before he turned to Lucy.

“Don’t know what it is about those pink screwdriver sets,” he said. “Women love ’em. Gave one to Becky for her birthday. You’d have thought it was a diamond necklace.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the perfect gift. Practical and stylish at the same time.” Lucy smiled. “But I hope you gave her some jewelry as well.”

“Oh, yeah. Nice set of earrings. You can never go wrong with screwdrivers or jewelry, I always say. You’re welcome to three screwdriver sets. Take them as a thank-you gift.”

Lucy looked bewildered. “What are you thanking me for?”

“Mason’s been brooding around the store and the cabin ever since he landed on my doorstep a couple of weeks ago. Figured he’d come around in time, but it was taking a while. Everything changed the minute you showed up, though.”

She blinked a couple times, assimilating that information, and then she smiled. “I think he just needed a job, something that required his kind of talent and energy.”

She understood, Deke thought. Not every woman did.

“Right,” he said. “He needed a mission.”

She shrugged. “A job, a mission, whatever. And as it happened, I needed an expert like him.”

Deke searched her face, looking for the truth.

“A win-win situation for both of you, is that it?” he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“I certainly hope so,” Lucy said. “Because if it doesn’t work out that way, I have a horrible feeling that someone is going to get away with murder.”

“You’re talking about Sara and Mary?”

“The deeper Mason and I go into this thing, the more I’m convinced that they were deliberately forced off that bad curve on Manzanita Road.”

“I’m not arguing the point. Mason told me about the bloodstained rock. I agree with you, the timing of their deaths is damn suspicious. But there’s no one better at figuring out what’s going on in a situation like this than Mason.”

“I believe you.”

“He’ll find your answers for you,” Deke said. “You know, I was away when that business with Brinker went down all those years ago, but Mason emailed me that night to tell me that there had been some trouble at the park and that he’d had a confrontation with Brinker. I emailed him back, telling him to be careful. Brinker sounded like the kind of guy who would come looking for revenge. Mason contacted me again to tell me that Brinker had disappeared and that the police had come to the hardware store asking questions. I knew that Brinker’s dad had the local chief of police in his pocket. I started making arrangements to get back here. But before I could leave, the cops concluded that Brinker had been the victim of a drug deal gone bad. Whatever the case, there were no charges against Mason.”

“I didn’t know until recently that Mason had been a suspect.”

“
Person of interest
is how the cops put it.”

Lucy studied him intently, her eyes very green. “Did you ever wonder if Mason had something to do with Brinker’s death?”

“Sure. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that Mason had been forced to defend himself, killed Brinker in the process and then decided that it would be best to make the body disappear.”

Lucy’s mouth fell open. “You thought he could manage that kind of thing at nineteen?”

“I’d taught him pretty much everything I knew by then.”

She swallowed hard. “I see.”

“But Mason told me that he hadn’t had anything to do with Brinker’s disappearance.”

“And you believed him?”

“Mason wouldn’t lie to me. He might not tell me something if he figured I’d be better off not knowing, but he wouldn’t outright lie to me. Besides, there would have been no reason for him to tell me anything but the truth.”

“He knew that you would have kept his secret,” Lucy said.

“Sure. We’re family. Besides, in my opinion, sooner or later someone would have had to do something of a permanent nature to Brinker. But Mason was off the hook as far as the law was concerned. That was all that mattered to me. The search-and-rescue operations were eventually called off. Brinker’s father spent a fortune on private investigators, but they all came up empty. Then Jeffrey Brinker died of a heart attack, and that was the end of the investigation.”

“And all the while Brinker’s body was hidden inside Sara’s fireplace. We—her family—never had a clue, you know. She kept the secret to the end.”

“I expect there was at least one other person who knew that body was in the fireplace.”

“Mary?” Lucy nodded. “I’ve wondered about that. She and Sara were very close. But if that’s true, Mary kept the secret as well.”

“They were more than close friends. They were family, too.”

“Yes.”

“One more thing you should know about what happened thirteen years ago,” Deke said.

“What?”

“Everything settled down here in Summer River. Aaron went off to college that fall. Mason sold the fixer-upper he had been working on. Did all right with it, too. The market was just starting to heat up around here. He socked away some of the cash to pay for Aaron’s tuition and bought himself a new car. But then he went over to the community college and enrolled in some classes. Started working on his degree in criminal justice.”

Lucy smiled. “I knew he’d end up in law enforcement. If ever someone was born to catch bad guys, it was Mason.”

“Here’s the thing,” Deke said. “I always figured he was cut out for business. That first fixer-upper wasn’t his last. He’s made good money in real estate over the years. But it’s not his first love. When I asked him why he wanted to become a cop, he said it was all your idea.”

“Good grief.” Lucy started to laugh, and then she shook her head. “It was a passing comment that I made to him the night he yanked me out of Brinker’s party. At the time, I didn’t think he was even paying attention. He was too busy lecturing me about not getting involved with Brinker and his crowd. I seem to remember telling him that I didn’t need a professional guardian angel and that if he was going to insist on saving people he ought to go into law enforcement.”

“Seems to me everyone could use a guardian angel at some point in their lives. Or maybe someone who just happens along at the right time and aims you in the right direction.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Lucy said. “Mason certainly came along when I needed someone to rescue me that night thirteen years ago. I never realized the danger I was in until I returned to Summer River. What about you, Deke? You survived in several war zones. You must have had some people looking out for you.”

“Over there I had my buddies to watch my back. But I had a couple of guardian angels back here, too—Mason and Aaron.”

“How did they save you?”

“Let’s just say they pointed me in the right direction. They gave me a reason to come home.”

T
here was a single long black limousine with the words
Summer River Winery
Tours
parked in the otherwise empty lot at the Colfax Winery. It was still early in the day for wine tasting.

Mason left his car at the foot of the terraced steps and started toward the tasting room’s entrance.

Beth Crosby emerged from the large building that housed the fermentation tanks and bottling room. When she saw him, she waved. She was dressed in jeans and a denim shirt. Sunlight glinted on the lenses of her serious black-framed glasses. She changed direction and walked toward him. He stopped.

“Don’t tell me you decided to drop by for a tasting,” she said. “I thought you said you were a beer man.”

Mason smiled. “I’m here to talk to Quinn. Is he around?”

“Oh, sure. I saw him a few minutes ago.” She gestured toward the building where the tasting room, souvenir shop and the offices of Colfax Winery were located. “He was headed for his office, I think. It’s a couple of doors down from the tasting room. Keep to the right after you go through the entrance. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.”

“Is it true they found Nolan Kelly’s body in Sara’s old house?” Beth squinted against the sun. “They’re saying he torched the place and got caught in the fire.”

“That’s how it looks,” Mason said. “But there are still some questions about his motives.”

“Know what I think?” Beth lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “I’ll bet he wanted to force Lucy’s hand. She was telling everyone that she intended to do some upgrades before she put the house on the market. Kelly probably got impatient. Everyone knows that the land is a lot more valuable than the house. Prime vineyard property.”

“I’ve been hearing that theory a lot today. You went to high school with Kelly. Do you think he would commit arson just to get a listing?”

“Maybe. If he was desperate. I mean, he was the main pot dealer back in high school. Why would he hesitate to commit arson if there was money in it?”

“Any reason to think he might have been that desperate for money recently?”

“Who knows?” Beth sighed. “It’s true, I knew Nolan for years. We were the same age, but we were never close. He ran with a different crowd back in high school. I was with the nerds, remember? But Nolan was always trying to get into the A-list circle. I think that’s why he set himself up in the drug business. He was the dealer of choice that year here in Summer River. The A-list kids let him into their gang because they wanted what he could supply.”

“So he had the connections to do some high-end drug deals?”

“I guess so. All I know is that he seemed to be able to supply whatever the A-list crowd wanted.”

“And what Tristan Brinker wanted.”

Beth grimaced. “Yeah, everyone said that Nolan was the one who brought in the drugs for Brinker’s parties that summer.”

“Where did Kelly get them?”

“Who knows? The city, I suppose. They say you can get anything you want in San Francisco. Listen, it’s none of my business, but you might want to be careful when you talk to Quinn.”

“Why?”

Beth hesitated and then let out a long sigh. “In case you haven’t heard, things are more than a little tense in the Colfax family at the moment. I’m just the winemaker, so I don’t know much about business. But in my position working here at the winery, I hear things. I can tell you that there’s a lot of friction.”

“What’s your take on the feud?”

Beth shrugged. “It’s simple enough. Everyone in the family except Warner wants to take the merger offer. But Warner didn’t realize that until recently. He’s been paying more attention to the winery than he has to Colfax Inc. Now that he knows the family is ganging up against him, he’s furious. He blames Quinn, I think.”

“Because Quinn has been leading the charge to take the merger?”

“That’s what I’m hearing.”

Mason studied the ornate façade of the winery and the elaborate landscaping. “Looks like Colfax spared no expense building this place.”

“It’s his pride and joy,” Beth said. “He loves seeing his name on the labels. He’s really excited about the Reserve.”

“What about the rest of the family? Do they get a charge out of those fancy labels?”

Beth grew thoughtful. “Well, the winery is their ticket into wine-country society. I think they all like that, especially Jillian and the new brood mare—I mean, the new Mrs. Colfax. But they also know that the winery is not the source of the Colfax fortune. It hasn’t even turned a profit yet. A lot of boutique wineries never do.”

“With the exception of Warner, the Colfaxes seem determined to sell the goose that lays the golden eggs. Any idea why?”

“It’s simple enough. My understanding is that the merger would make everyone involved a multimillionaire. It’s none of my business, but personally, I think Warner Colfax should have the deciding vote on whether or not to go through with the merger. Colfax Inc. is his company. He’s the one who built it from scratch.”

“He and Jeffrey Brinker.”

“Well, yes, but Brinker has been gone for years now. Warner is the one who built the company into what it is today.”

“But he turned the day-to-day management over to Cecil Dillon.”

Beth gave him a quizzical look. “Everyone says that hiring an outside CEO is common practice in closely held businesses. Warner wanted to retire and devote himself to his wines.”

“I see.”

Beth glanced at her watch and then pushed her glasses up higher on her nose. “I’d better get back to work. Nice to see you again, Mason. You know, a lot of people around here figured you’d end up working some dead-end job your whole life. They always said your brother was the smart one in the family.”

“Aaron
is
the smart one in the family.”

“Maybe, but you’ve certainly done all right.” Beth smiled. “I’m glad things worked out for you.”

“You did all right, too.” He angled his head toward the large tank room. “Warner Colfax isn’t the only one building a reputation here. His label wouldn’t mean much without a great winemaker behind it.” 

“Thanks. I had a lot of advantages from the start. Warner was willing to go state-of-the-art in everything, from the pressing and fermentation processes to the aging techniques and the bottling.” Beth chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe how many different kinds of corks I tried before I settled on the one that allowed just the right amount of air to reach the wine.”

“Obviously, you are very, very good.”

“I like to think so. My goal is to be the best.” She walked away, lifting a hand in farewell. “See you later.”

Mason continued on up the steps and pushed through the glass doors of the tasting room.

The wine tourists from the limo were lounging against the bar, listening intently as the attractive woman on the other side poured small, measured amounts of a white wine into their glasses.

“A very fresh, dry Riesling with notes of apricot and pear,” she said. She broke off in mid-lecture when she saw Mason walk toward the hallway labeled
Offices
.

“Can I help you?” she asked quickly.

“I stopped by to see Quinn Colfax,” Mason said. He did not pause. “We’re old acquaintances.”

“I’ll let him know that you’re here,” the woman said, her tone sharpening.

“It’s okay,” Mason said. “Quinn and I go way back.”

He turned the corner and went down a paneled hallway decorated with framed photographs of sunny vineyard landscapes. He stopped outside the room labeled
Marketing & Sales
. The door was open. Quinn was seated behind the desk, studying a computer screen full of colorful images of wine country. He had a phone to one ear.

“All right, I understand,” he said into the phone. “I’ll deal with it.” Sensing the presence in the doorway, he swiveled around in his chair. He frowned when he saw Mason. “I’ve got to go now.” He ended the connection and eyed Mason warily. “What do you want, Fletcher?”

“I have some questions for you,” Mason said. He closed the office door.

“Is this about Lucy’s shares?” Quinn asked.

“No, those shares are her business. I’m here to talk about Brinker and Kelly and the past.”

“Shit. I was afraid of that. I remembered enough about you from the old days to know that you were not going to give up and go away quietly. Have a seat. I wouldn’t be much of a marketing exec if I didn’t offer you a glass of wine.”

“No, thanks.”

Quinn looked pained. “Fine. Have it your way. Coffee?”

For some reason, people tended to talk more freely when they were sharing a drink or food with another person. Probably something primal, Mason thought. Regardless of the psychology involved, he had learned long ago that it worked.

“Thanks,” he said.

Quinn hit a button on his phone. “Letty, would you please bring my guest some coffee? Tea for me, as usual.”

“Certainly, sir.”

“Appreciate it,” Quinn said. He sat back and looked at Mason. “Sit down and tell me what this is all about.”

Mason moved deeper into the room. There was no telltale scent of alcohol in the atmosphere. Either Quinn confined his drinking to after business hours or he used some very good breath mints.

“You heard about Kelly?” Mason said.

“Everyone in town has heard about Kelly by now. The idiot tried to burn down Sara Sheridan’s house and got caught in his own fire. It’s all very sad, but what has it got to do with you being here in my office?”

Mason examined the photographs on the wall. “Nice pictures. Did you take them?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”

“And the ones in the hallway?”

“Yes. What the hell do my photographs have to do with this?”

Mason turned back to him. “Let me tell you where I’m coming from. Unlike most people, I don’t think Kelly torched Sara’s house because he wanted to push Lucy into giving him the listing for the property.”

“Why don’t you buy that angle?” Quinn’s brow creased. “Makes sense to me. Kelly wanted the listing pretty badly, and Lucy was stalling.”

“You don’t think maybe torching the house is a little over-the-top, even for a desperate real estate agent?”

“Look, Kelly was a good salesman, but he wasn’t exactly known for his high ethical standards. I don’t know if you were aware of it at the time, but thirteen years ago Kelly sold pot to half the kids in town. Everyone knows he was Brinker’s dealer as well.”

“I’ve heard that. Any reason to think he was still in that line?”

“No.” Quinn rose and went to stand at the window. “Furthermore, I’m strongly inclined to doubt it. I think there would have been some talk if that were the case. What I’m trying to tell you is that there is no reason to think his standards have improved. He wasn’t above doing something illegal if he thought he could get away with it.”

There was a light tap on the door. Quinn crossed the room to open it. The young woman who had been pouring wine for the tourists out front stood in the hall. She held a tray with two mugs. One mug had a tea bag string hanging over the edge.

“Thanks, Letty.” Quinn took the tray from her and set it down on a side table. “That’s all for now. Please tell Meredith to hold my calls until we’re finished here.”

“Yes, Mr. Colfax.”

Letty left, closing the door behind her.

Mason went to the window and looked out at the rolling, vineyard-covered hills.

“Sugar or cream?” Quinn asked.

Ever the gracious host,
Mason thought. He did not turn around.

“Black,” he said.

Behind him, he heard Quinn open a sugar packet.

“Nice view,” Mason said.

“If you like vineyards.”

Mason turned away from the view. Quinn handed him the mug of coffee and picked up his tea.

“You might as well sit down,” Quinn said. He went behind his desk and lowered himself into his own chair.

Mason took one of the two chairs that faced Quinn. He tried a sip of the coffee. It was good. Probably freshly ground, using beans ethically sourced from an organic farm that used sustainable growing and harvesting techniques, this being Summer River and all.

Quinn drank some tea.

“Have you ever wondered what happened to Brinker’s accomplice?” Mason asked.

“Accomplice?”
Quinn stiffened. A little tea splashed over the rim of his mug. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I pulled the old police files relating to the Scorecard Rapist. There was some indication that there was a second person involved in the rapes.”

“I never heard that.” Quinn scowled. “What are you getting at?”

“When you think about it, there are at least two people who might have had reason to worry after Brinker’s body fell out of the fireplace the other night. The accomplice and the person who was supplying the drugs to Brinker.”

“I told you, Brinker got his drugs from Nolan Kelly.” Quinn swept that issue aside. “But what’s this about an accomplice?”

Mason took another sip of the coffee. “It was just a theory at the time. Makes you wonder, though.”

“You’re going way out on a limb here, Fletcher. But say you’re right. Maybe there was an accomplice. Seems to me the most likely suspect would have been Kelly. He would have done anything to get close to the guy with all the power.”