Max holstered his weapon. He snatched his badge as if taking back his life. He stood on his feet. He glared at the chief, and kept his tone on the edge between respectful and dogmatic. “I’m not here to walk in my father’s footsteps. I’m not here because it’s all I know. I’m here because this is the life I chose. Detective Max Pride King. I will do my best, and maybe at times, I’ll fall short, but…” He swung his own axe. “I will give my life to serve and protect—and defend.” The “defend” hung in the air, a clear and intentional ambiguity of “defending the people” and “defending himself.”
Captain Banks withheld a smile but the pride in her voice said it all. “You’re dismissed, Detective Max Pride King.” Captain Banks followed Max and Joy out of the room. “Coffee time.”
In the hallway, Banks whispered, “Damn, Max. David King would say ‘you just prodded the snake and shook the rattle.’”
“Now he knows my tail is rattling too.”
“That was your intent?” Captain Banks slapped him on the shoulder. “Mission accomplished.”
On the way back to their desks, Joy caught Max by the arm. He turned.
“Max, I need to see Evan Owens.”
“I understand, Joy. He killed your father. I hope you find what you need.”
“So do I.”
“Are you still working for the FBI?”
Joy pursed her lips. She turned her head to ensure no one else was around. “Not directly, no. I resigned. But after Sam died, I asked Webb for a favor. He set up the meeting with Ursula Winters—the first meeting. He didn’t know about the second. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to get you in trouble, but I almost cost you your badge. I was trying to give you deniable plausibility.”
“No more secrets. You’ve got to trust me.”
“Agreed. Webb informed me that the news will say Ursula Winters is dead. Only you and I and Webb know otherwise.”
“Having the Director of the FBI on our side isn’t a bad thing.”
“Max, I didn’t tell Webb about us, nor will I. I don’t have a reason not to trust him, but I think we should decide who knows and who doesn’t.”
“Good idea, bro?”
“Right, bro?” Joy grinned. “I can say that without letting any cats out of the bag.”
“Or pythons.”
28
On Bow Mountain, south of Wine Valley, Irene Smith, wife of Jedediah “Jed” Smith, turned off the television. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming?” Irene had short brown hair with blond highlights and pretty features, pampered by facials and expensive makeup. She’d stayed thin over her fifty-four years and proudly enhanced her figure with brand name clothing of high quality and sophistication, despite her humble job as the curator of the Wine Valley Rock and Mineral Museum. One evening a week, she taught lapidary and jewelry classes, showing people how to cut, polish, shape, or engrave stones, and how to set them in jewelry.
“As soon as I finish my pipe and my reading.” Jed let his glasses perch halfway down his nose as if he couldn’t be bothered putting them on and taking them off. He had a thick white mustache that he proudly combed to perfection. He had kind blue eyes and a face and arms that seemed forever tanned and blotched by his long hours in the sun, working the Rainbow Rock and Gem Mine, staked by his great-great-grandfather in 1846, two years before James W. Marshall ignited the California Gold Rush by discovering gold at Sutter’s Mill, which swelled the population and led to the state’s admission to the union in 1850. Jed was a tall man with arms, legs, and a back made strong by daily digging, sifting, and other tasks that kept his hands pleasantly dirty and calloused.
Irene leaned down to kiss Jed. He tipped his chin up to meet her.
“What a day, huh?” said Irene.
Jed smiled. “You needed a good day, Irene—you’ve been in such a rut.”
Irene nodded. “I know, Jed. I’m sorry.”
Before Jed could answer, Irene’s son from a previous marriage grabbed his jacket from a hook on the coat rack and opened the front door. “I’ll be back later, Mom, Jed.”
“Suit yourself,” said Jed. “You’re a grown man, Eddie.”
Eddie, early thirties, had brown eyes that seemed to Jed to be forever on the hunt for trouble. He had dark facial hair that was too long to be called stubble and too short to be called a beard, but at least he kept his hair short enough to be respectable. When he smiled, only one side of his mouth turned up.
“You can borrow my razor anytime. Might impress the ladies.” Jed couldn’t resist a barb. Jed shaved every day and kept his mustache clean and trimmed.
“It’s the fashion, Jed,” said Eddie.
“Suit yourself,” said Jed.
Irene pleaded with Eddie to stay. “You just got here yesterday.”
“Let him go, Irene. You’re goin’ off to bed, and he’s still young.” Jed waved his pipe in the air to make the point more dramatic.
Irene relented. “You’re right, Jed. I’ll see you both in the morning.” With that, Eddie stepped out the door and hopped into his car.
“Don’t say up late. That lady geologist, Dr. Clark, will be here early.” Irene stepped to the hallway but then turned. “I looked it up, Jed. Benitoite is also called blue diamond. It’s even more valuable than diamonds. If our mine has—”
“Now, Irene. Stop right there. It’s all the same: topaz, tourmaline, quartz, kunzite—everything the good earth has provided my ancestors and us for all these years is a gift. Blue diamond is more valuable because it’s harder to find. You’ll always be my greatest treasure—and I hope I’m yours.”
Irene nodded. “I know, Jed. I’d just like to retire from working at the museum and teaching lapidary classes to local yokels.”
“Now, Irene, you used to love teaching. That’s how we first met—I was your first student.”
“Second. Your brother was the first,” she reminded him. “Goodnight, Jed.”
Jed didn’t answer. He just tipped his pipe. A sweet-scented plume of smoke curled in the air.
By the time Jed finished his pipe and his geology magazine, his back had stiffened from sitting too long. He rose to his feet and stretched.
Jed loved rocks, shiny or not. Irene joked that he had dirt in his veins. Jed set his pipe down in the bowl and stepped over to the window to close the drapes and keep out the morning sunlight. A light flashlight beam roamed around in the distance. Jed stepped outside. “Who in tarnation is out at the mine at this hour?”
With the possible find of blue diamonds all over the news, Jed wondered if someone had hoped to scavenge a stone or two, but in the two-mile long shaft, it was more likely a fool would stumble and break his neck. Jed put on his hat, grabbed his shotgun, and headed out the door.
By the time he reached the tunnel entrance, braced with beams, he had hoped the fool had wised up and headed home. But he caught a flash of light bounce off the wall inside the tunnel. “It ain’t safe in there, so come on out! I ain’t mad.” Jed waited, but no one answered. Nor did he see a flashlight beam walking toward him as he’d hoped. “Hello! Anyone there? Are you hurt?”
Jed grumbled under his breath. The last place he wanted to be was in the tunnel at night. Jed strode through the entrance. He flashed a beam of light on the shelves to the left. He grabbed a miner’s hardhat, flipped on the light, and put it on his head. He used his handheld light too. “Hello!”
Jed crept along at a good pace. He didn’t have a reason to run. Whoever scurried up ahead only had one way out.
Jed reached the bend, which meant he was half a mile in. “Hello!” No answer. It seemed more and more like a fool’s errand. “Suit yourself! I’m headin’ home, and I suggest you do the same!”
Jed turned to leave. He whistled “She’ll be Comin’ ‘round the Mountain” to keep himself company on the way out. For a brief second, he thought he saw a second flashlight beam meld with his in front of him, but before he could turn to inspect, his hard hat flew off of his head, and an object cr
acked against his skull.
Jed groaned. His knees buckled. And he toppled forward on his stomach.
In the round halo of light, the killer watched Jed’s blood spill and pool, but the parched ground sucked it up, leaving only a red-brown blotch with curved edges.
The killer dropped the deadly granite rock and worked fast, pushing a wheelbarrow next to Jed and dumping a load of rock and dirt over the dead man’s back and torso.
The killer pushed the wheelbarrow back a ways in the tunnel.
“Jed!”
The killer turned off his flashlight and snuck as quietly as possible back to the corpse.
A man kneel down. He hunched over the body and moved rocks aside.
With a forceful swing, the flashlight cracked against the man’s skull.
The man fell atop the rocks that covered the dead body.
The killer turned on his light and pulled the hat off of the man that lay atop Jed. He carried the hat back to the wheelbarrow and dropped it.
The killer followed the beam of his flashlight and skulked toward to the tunnel entrance. He stepped out into the night, full of bright-white glistening stars, and he scurried away like a cockroach evading discovery.
Author’s Note
Thank you for spending time with me in Wine Valley. While each novel can be read as a stand-alone murder mystery, Max and Joy’s personal quest to discover their bizarre past will unravel more with each book.
The suspects’ secret lives will continue to add unexpected twists, romances will build, all amidst harrowing danger and emotional upheavals. What more could one ask for than bizarre tales of murder and heart-stopping suspense in a pristine setting with old friends and new ones.
If you like the series, please leave a review and comment on Amazon. Word of mouth is incredibly powerful. A few words or a phrase or a sentence or two—it all helps. Thanks again!
Note: I use professional editors, and I proofread several times, but if you spot an error, please email me at [email protected].
Rosé and Rocks
Wine Valley Mystery Book 4
Diamonds cut glass. Some shred lives.
At the Wild West Harvest Festival, an old-timer teaches children to sift dirt from his mine to find gems. But no one expects a real find—benitoite—the California blue diamond.
The next morning, a geologist inspects the mine. She finds a dead body. Det. Max King and Dr. Joy Burton investigate.
To make matters worse, a film director and cameraman meddle in the investigation. The obsessed director captures every facet of the story.
Meantime, Max and Joy continue their relentless pursuit of their mysterious past before being adopted by two different fathers. With every peek into Pandora’s box, they hope to hit the jackpot, not end up with fools’ gold.
Open the lid to peek inside—and the beasts escape.
Step into the vineyards and revel in the wicked world of Wine Valley. Read Rose and Rocks today.
Books in the Wine Valley Mystery Series
Titles and Release Dates
Merlot and Murder: The Beginning (FREE)
Burgundy and Bodies, Book 1 (May 2, 2019)
Pinot Noir and Poison, Book 2 (May 9, 2019)
Syrah and Swingers, Book 3 (May 23, 2019)
Rosé and Rocks, Book 4 (June 27, 2019)
Grenache and Graves, Book 5 (July 2019)
Shiraz and Slaughter, Book 6 (Aug. 2019)
Pinot Grigio and Pesticide, Book 7
Gamay Noir and Ghouls, Book 8
Claret and Carnage, Book 9
Viognier and Venom, Book 10
More murder, mystery, and mayhem to come . . .
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Also by Sandra Woffington
WARRIORS & WATCHERS SAGA SERIES
Epic Mythological Fantasy
Seven ancient gates of evil will open, unless a quirky group of teens become warriors.
“Original and consistently entertaining from cover to cover.” Midwest Book Review
Evil Speaks (Reader’s Favorite 5-Star Review)
Evil Hears (to be released in 2019)
Evil Sees
Evil Touches
Evil Feeds
Evil Deeds
Evil Desires
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STAND ALONE HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Unveiling
What would you sacrifice to fulfill your destiny?
Syrah and Swingers Page 18