by Emma Accola
“That night outside the restaurant, how did you know I would pick your pocket?”
Harry Spice gave me a knowing smile. “Tamra made a joke about how you’d picked the pocket of one of her old boyfriends after you’d seen him snag her cell phone. I guessed you would do the same thing to me to see if I’d stolen anything out of Micah’s car.”
The fact that he’d read me like a map irritated me. “Now that I know who you really are, you can shut your little torture factory down. You’ve had your revenge, so get out of my and Micah’s lives so we can live our lives in peace and privacy.”
Harry Spice laughed. “Privacy? It’s a relic from the days of quill pens and handmade paper. I use it when it serves my purposes and throw it aside when it doesn’t.” Smug, his mouth curled. “You see, Gracie dear, the problem with privacy is that people are always at their worst when they don’t think anyone is looking. It’s subversive and immoral because people use it to misbehave.”
I scoffed. “And you think that all your surveillance will get you the truth about people?”
“Not truth. Facts, yes. But not truth because it’s too subjective.”
“All those facts your Teddy bear camera captured of Tamra and me didn’t set us free.”
His eyes were on my lips. “No. Free would have been streaming video of you and Tamra to anyone who wanted to look. Then strangers could produce endless commentary about your eclectic taste in books, the way you favor Vietnamese food, and how you never put your purse on the floor. And Tamra is so gorgeous. I loved the sight of her in her pajamas, especially the pair with the sleeveless top and low-waist bottom. Total disclosure makes us free.”
My rage became a live thing trying to tear its way out of my chest. “Tamra wasn’t free when you let a sexual predator spy on us. And you weren’t free when you went to prison to hide his identity. That rapist has something on you, doesn’t he?”
Harry Spice’s smirk didn’t waver. “Why would he need something on me? He just needs to be ordinary in order to want to watch beautiful strangers. As a professor, you work with the public. What would be wrong with the world following you at home?”
“Like everything.”
“Confidentiality is an illusion. I’ve gotten rich mining the data people give away with every click and tap of their smart devices. That intersection between people and technology is a swarming hive where almost everyone is a worker bee providing me with information. Computers love us all.”
“Computers are amoral.”
“Machines are what we make them.”
The turn in the conversation vexed me. I pushed the hot chocolate away and leaned toward him. “I’m sorry for the loss of your father. I really am, but even you have to acknowledge that what happened to him was an accident. It’s the only fatality that’s ever occurred in the decades my family has owned the property. We have never been careless with the safety of our workers.”
Harry Spice shrugged, unmoved. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”
“Your ruining me won’t bring your father back. I wasn’t even born when he passed. How did this become about me?”
“Haven’t you been listening?” Harry Spice gave a low laugh. “It’s because you’re the best and brightest of the children in your family. Your sister bores me. Faith will always have a master. And your brother is enslaved by his weak will and his addictions.” Harry Spice tipped his head at me. “You’re the only child who is worthy.”
“Worthy of what?”
“Paying for what happened to my father. Making our families even.”
“You won’t get even by ruining me. I won’t let you, and Micah will see you behind bars, even if he has to plant evidence on you.”
Harry Spice grinned. “Micah is a Boy Scout. No matter how much he loves you, he’d no more plant evidence than he would kick a priest.”
“He might be a Boy Scout, but I’m not.”
Harry Spice laughed aloud.
“Something I said?” I asked.
“You and Micah aren’t going to happen. I won’t let you.” Harry Spice clasped his hands together and leaned across the table. “Isn’t the worst feeling in the world when two people love each other but can’t be together?”
I leaned back against the booth and gave Harry Spice a hard stare. “You don’t know the first thing about love. You only can hear the monster you created. You have money and fame and power, yet you still keep the monster on your back.”
“Always the English major with the metaphors. There’s no monster on my back. There’s a hell within me. I’ve fed it for years by building my business, getting successful, educated, and rich.” He emptied some sugar packets onto the table and paused to draw a design in the grains. “It’s fitting, I suppose, that my mother became a drunk after my father died in your vineyard. She pointed to your winery every single time we passed by on the highway. On the anniversary of Dad’s death, she would drink bottles of your family’s wine and tell me she could taste Dad’s blood in the bouquet. Then she would pass out.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
Harry Spice didn’t seem to hear me. “My mother’s settlement lasted about two years. Afterward we lived in greasy little apartments that smelled like cigarettes and mildew. Your family went on while Dad’s blood fertilized your grapevines.”
“Farms go on regardless of accidents. That’s the way it is and the life your father chose. He would have known that.”
Harry Spice acted as if I hadn’t spoken. “Sometimes it scares even me, this constant hunger for a parent I don’t even remember. It’s like a heartbeat, you know, always there inside of me.”
I cringed when I saw the skull and crossbones he had drawn in the spilled sugar. The line from Shakespeare floated in my mind: “out, out, brief candle.”
“Sweet Gracie, I have watched your family for years, and you’ve impressed me with your smarts and charm and ambition.” He smiled at my expression over the design in the sugar. “With you, balance will be restored.”
“You’re a complete idiot if you think I’m going to let you use me to get your revenge.”
“You’ll let me.”
“Like hell I will.”
“Actually, you will, once you’re properly motivated.” Harry Spice’s mouth formed a cocky smile as he picked up and unlocked his phone. “Micah is at Sylvie’s bakery right now. Look for yourself.”
He held the phone out so I could see the screen. At first I kept my eyes on Harry Spice, but I couldn’t prevent the draw of my vision to his phone. I knew that tiny device would hold something big and horrible. At first there was only a red skeletal hand. Then it faded away, and my heart tumbled at the image of Micah’s and Sylvie’s bodies roped to heavy metal chairs. A buzz saw was between them. Harry Spice’s thumb summoned the next image, a close-up. Micah’s right hand and Sylvie’s left had been secured at their wrists by strips of leather that had been bolted down to the saw right in the path of the heavy-tooth blade. The metaphor had been made real. I began breathing through my mouth to keep from crying out. The next image Harry Spice showed me was of a cord and an outlet.
“There’s a timer on the buzz saw’s cord that I can control with this phone. If I call the timer, it will cut the power to the buzz saw. If I don’t, the saw will come on automatically in four hours. Once it starts, Micah and Sylvie will have their hands severed and they will die in Evermore Cake Bakery. Dying in Evermore. That has a certain poetic ring to it, doesn’t it?”
My voice became quivery with fear. “No, Micah will tip over the saw and break free from those ties.”
“There’s a motion detector on the buzz saw. If either Micah or Sylvie upsets it too much, the saw will automatically start. I think the two of them will be inclined to stay still.”
Fear made my fingers tingle. “They’re innocent, you bastard.”
“What exactly is innocence? Does the wolf cry for the sheep?”
My hands curled into fists. I’d never wanted to physically at
tack another human being so much in my entire life. Every muscle fiber in my body shook.
“Sweet, sweet Gracie, have you ever wondered why you can’t have the life that you want?”
“Could it be because someone who looks a lot like you has spent years disrupting it?”
“No, it’s inside of you.” Harry Spice smiled. “Pretty Gracie, I see in your eyes that you’re going to try something. Be advised that I have a man monitoring the bakery with a dozen cameras. If the police show up, he will start the saw. The room is heavily reinforced. If the door is forced, it will set off an explosion, not enough to bring down the building, but enough to kill Micah, Sylvie, and any other unfortunates in the vicinity.”
“Were any of Sylvie’s employees on your payroll?”
Harry Spice gave a tiny shrug. “Who cares?”
“Why Micah and Sylvie?”
“Partly to ensure your cooperation, sweet Gracie. And because Caleb failed me when he allowed me to be convicted of raping your friend Tamra. I warned him what would happen if events went badly. He eventually managed to free me when that forensic dentist’s ideas were debunked, but it didn’t seem to me that he tried hard enough.”
My temper flared. “You did that to yourself by withholding evidence. Because of you, a rapist is still out there stalking women.”
“Right, but he stalks women, so that doesn’t sound like my problem.” Harry Spice graciously gestured toward the door. “Let’s get out of here. You must miss the vineyards, don’t you, dear?”
I didn’t move.
Harry Spice stood up. “You will come with me now or Micah and Sylvie will have a close encounter with a buzz saw. Out, out, brief candle.”
“Let me see Micah again.”
Harry Spice threw me a reproving glance, as if my maudlin insistence was annoying, then tapped the code into his phone and showed me the live view of Micah and Sylvie. I saw Sylvie’s and Micah’s wide eyes staring at the timer. They were talking to each other. Then Harry Spice switched to the home screen on his phone. The red skeletal hand had become a beating heart.
“What is that?”
“The four-hour timer has started,” Harry Spice said in a friendly voice. “Clearly Sylvie and Micah have noticed. Shall we go? We have a bit of a drive ahead of us, and you know how traffic can back up on the 101.”
“What happens if I go with you? Will you turn the saw off?”
“Yes, if you’re cooperative.”
I got to my feet though I didn’t believe his assurance even for a second.
He put his hand on my shoulder. “Gracie dear, don’t think about grabbing the steering wheel or committing some sort of heroic gesture to crash the car. You see that tall man over there in the red hoodie? He’s going to follow us. The home screen of his phone also has a beating heart.”
I wondered if Harry Spice had a beating heart.
Outside in the parking lot, he gallantly opened the passenger door for me. I sank down into the expensive leather seat and fought a shudder when he shut the door. Harry Spice got in and turned on the car. The stereo started, a soft rap song about love. Harry Spice hummed to the music as he drove. The traffic was lighter than usual, and soon we were on the Golden Gate Bridge speeding north toward Marin County. Ordinarily I couldn’t cross this bridge without gazing at the view, but today I kept my eyes firmly on the road ahead. Driving with an easy confidence, Harry Spice didn’t look at me or try to make conversation.
As we traveled farther north, my anxiety became a small, hard kernel of anger. When Harry Spice turned off the 101 and onto the quiet country road that would lead to my family’s winery, I couldn’t contain my wrath.
“Your mother got a cash settlement for what happened to your father. My family paid for his funeral. There were Social Security benefits and life insurance, so don’t hand me a load of crap about how she got nothing.”
“That’s all financial,” Harry Spice snapped back at me.
“There’s no other way to make us even,” I cried. “Farm work is dangerous and the families of those who suffer fatalities are paid a settlement. That’s the system we’ve got and the one your father knew when he worked in the vineyards. That’s the only reasonable way to compensate a family.”
“No, it’s not. My father was the brightest and best in our family. Just like you’re the best and brightest in yours. Your life pays for his.”
“Whatever you’re planning to do to me won’t make our families even. It will just make you a murderer.”
“You’re right.” His eyes were black as bits of coal. “Justice will be achieved when I own the grapevines that drank my father’s blood.”
“You’ll hurt me in order to punish my parents.”
“Yes, so they can feel what my mother felt.”
“What about the students you murdered? And Tamra’s assault? And the lives you’ve ruined? What about the price they paid?”
“For the record, I’m not a rapist and the students were necessary. They’re part of what will make you look so despondent that no one will be surprised when you disappear. Your parents might even be delighted to see the end of you, given all your embarrassing shenanigans. They’ll want to protect their brand. Of course, they’ll quit being delighted when I take steps to oust them from the winery. Since you won’t be around, none of that will be your concern.”
“Why am I going to disappear?”
“Be quiet.”
Harry Spice turned the car onto a gravel road that led into my parents’ property and stopped the car on the edge of a vineyard. We eyed each other. The daylight came in the windows and shone off his perfectly cut hair. He moved his shoulders, straining the leather of his jacket and making it creak. He was gorgeous like a panther, beautiful and deadly.
A long, sinister stretch of quiet passed. “Ah, sweet Gracie, I’m going to open your car door. If you try running, I will catch you. I went to college on a track scholarship, and there’s no way all your hours in yoga class could make you as fast a runner as I am.”
Harry Spice got out of the car and walked around the hood. My heart hammered in my chest when he opened my car door and made a small gesture for me to get out. He offered me his arm, and though the gesture seemed bizarre, I took it. We began walking along the perimeter of the vineyard. I knew that at this time of year, there would be no workers out here. The knot of worry in my stomach had become a heavy stone. I wanted to fight Harry Spice, attack him with my fists, but I knew he could easily overpower me with his greater strength and size.
“Where are we going?” I asked in a voice breathy with fear.
“To the place where my father died.” A deep, sharp edge had crept into his tone. “You will draw your last breaths looking at the grapevines and the sky the way he did.”
“He was crushed under the wheels of a tractor when he bent down to pick up his keys. That’s how his blood got on the jade dragon. You don’t have a tractor.”
“I’ll improvise.”
“You’re not going to get away with this.”
“Yes, I will.”
“People at that coffee shop saw us leaving together. Your car is parked on the side of the road for the whole world to see. Even an inept police detective could get somewhere with that.”
Harry Spice broke out laughing. “Turn around and look behind us. The car is gone. It’s been driven away. I’ve hidden a motorcycle in those trees that I will ride back into the City. The helmet will hide my face. Very soon a man who looks incredibly like me will be going out to lunch and chatting up the hostess and waitress. He’ll pay with my credit card and my car will appear on the security cameras. People believe what computers and surveillance cameras show them.”
“Once the police start to question your henchmen, they will turn on you.”
“Who are these henchmen and what will they say? They won’t see what’s going to happen here today. There are no security cameras in your vineyard. Once I’m finished with you, I’m going to ride my motorcycle back into
the city and have a good dinner. There’s nothing like a good meal after a task well done, don’t you think so?”
My fear made my tongue thick and heavy, so I didn’t reply. I held his arm now because my knees had weakened and I needed his support. We kept walking through the acres of vineyards, far away from any buildings or people. Heavy clouds were coming from the west, pulling across the sky like a curtain. My pace slowed as the realization that I was willingly walking to my death made my feet stumble. Harry Spice supported me when I faltered. We came to the end of the long rows of vines to the place where they met a steep hill. In the pasture beneath us, my parents’ horses grazed near a stream.
Harry Spice pointed to a copse of trees on the vineyard’s fence line. “Your grave is over there waiting for you. I dug it yesterday.” He held up his palm. “The shovel gave me blisters, but it was worth it. Buried bodies are hard to find, and no one will be looking for you here because you’ve made yourself persona non grata with your family. Glen told me how you played here as children. He was very forthcoming. Your final resting place will be hidden under those branches. Would you like to see it?”
I didn’t reply as Harry Spice led me to my grave. When we stood at its side, I thought it seemed rather deep. A shovel and gloves lay next to it. Harry Spice turned me around to face him. A blue fog filled my mind. I could hardly see.
“Sweet Gracie, now comes the fun part. I’m going to ravish you. That’s so much nicer a word than rape, don’t you think? Some people say ravish is an oxymoron, but at this juncture, that really doesn’t matter. You’ll be awake. It won’t be like what happened to Tamra.” He picked up a lock of my hair. “It was the maintenance man, you know, with his strange sexual proclivities. He let Glen and me in and out of your apartment and all he wanted in return was the ability to watch Tamra. Caleb and Micah thought it was a locked-room mystery, but the only mystery was who had the master keys.”
Anger cleared my consciousness. “You’re not getting away with this.”