“Sell those Colfax shares back to the family as fast as you can and put Summer River in your rearview mirror. You do not want to get involved in what is going down inside Colfax Inc.”
“Is that a threat?” Mason asked.
“No, it’s not a threat,” Quinn said. He sounded unutterably weary. “Just some free advice. Take it or leave it.”
“Thanks,” Lucy said.
Quinn looked at Mason. “You know, I always figured that you were the one who got rid of Brinker. Always wanted to thank you. And now it turns out that I should have thanked Sara Sheridan instead. I’m sorry I didn’t do that while she was still alive.”
Quinn walked off again. This time, he did not look back.
There was a short silence. Lucy set her barely touched wine down with great care on a nearby table. For some reason, her fingers were trembling ever so slightly.
“You know,” she said, “I think I’ve had about all the fun I can stand at this party tonight. I’m ready to leave now.”
“So am I.”
15
Lucy was still shivering a little when she slipped into the car and fastened the seat belt. Adrenaline, she thought, and nerves. She clasped her hands together very tightly in her lap and waited until Mason got behind the wheel and drove out of the winery parking lot.
“Quinn was scared of Brinker, too,” she said.
Mason turned onto River Road. “I’m starting to wonder who wasn’t scared of him.”
Her phone chirped. Absently, she took it out of her purse, deleted the message about the latest match and returned the phone to the little evening bag. She snapped the bag shut.
There was a long silence from the other side of the front seat.
“Think you’ll ever give marriage a try?” Mason asked after a while.
There was something odd about his tone of voice, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The older I get, the less I’m willing to compromise. I’ve been told I’m becoming way too picky.”
“Who told you that?”
“The last guy I dated,” Lucy said. “And Dr. Preston, my therapist.”
“The last woman I dated said I was too dictatorial and that I didn’t share my emotions very well.”
That surprised a small, tight laugh out of her. “We sound like a couple of real losers, don’t we?”
The corner of his mouth edged upward. “Gives us something in common.”
“You may be right.”
“Moving right along: what’s your take on the situation back at the Colfax den?”
She considered that briefly. “Quinn may have a drinking problem.”
“I’d say that’s a good bet.”
“I’m sure he expected to take his father’s place at the head of the company, but that never happened. Instead, Warner Colfax hired an outside CEO who may or may not be sleeping with the second Mrs. Warner Colfax.”
“Ah, you got that impression, too?” Mason asked.
“Something in the atmosphere between Dillon and Ashley.”
“Not a lot to go on,” Mason said.
“No.”
“But I’m inclined to agree with you.” Mason changed gears, slowing the car. “Anything else?”
“There appears to be a certain amount of desperation among those in favor of the merger. But as I told you, that’s not uncommon in these situations. The older generation builds the empire and rakes in millions. The younger generation wants to take the money and run.” She broke off in surprise when she realized that Mason was turning onto a side road. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace we can talk.”
He eased the sleek car along the narrow gravel road. They drove through the trees until they reached a small clearing. The car’s headlights revealed the dark river. Mason killed the lights. The almost full moon took over.
“I spent a lot of time in Summer River when I was young,” Lucy said. “But I don’t remember this spot.”
“Deke found it years ago. He brought Aaron and me here to teach us how to fish.”
She was not sure what to say next, so she let the silence lengthen. With each passing beat of her heart, the aura of intimacy in the darkened front seat grew stronger. She wondered if she was the only one who felt it.
She was trying to think of a way to break the tension when Mason opened the door.
“Let’s get out,” he said. “It’s not cold.”
She opened her own door, unfastened her seat belt and slid out of the front seat. Mason was right, the night air was not cold, but there was a chill. She pulled the wrap around her shoulders and went to join Mason at the front of the car. Together they made their way to the bank of the river.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked.
“Damned if I know,” he said. “I’m not a good communicator, remember?”
“Oh, right, I keep forgetting. Well, I’ll give you a hint. You probably brought me here because you want to give me my marching orders.”
“Marching orders?”
“You think I should sell the shares back to the Colfax family and stop trying to find out if the car accident that killed Sara and Mary really was an accident, don’t you?”
He took so long responding that she finally turned her head to look at him. In the darkness she could not read his expression, but she sensed that he was coming to a decision.
“Logic and common sense tell me that dumping those shares and leaving town would be the smartest thing you could do,” he said eventually. “If you keep going along the path you’re on now, you’re going to make some enemies in the Colfax clan.”
“I think I’ve already got a few. What can they do to me?”
“I don’t know. That’s what has me worried. If you’re right about Sara’s and Mary’s death, you could be in danger.”
“Do you really think that whoever killed them will come after me now? But that wouldn’t do him or her any good. I’ve got a trust, and believe me, it’s tight. In my profession, you find out real fast that a badly drawn-up will or trust can be a disaster for the heirs. I’ve left everything to my parents. The murderer can’t just go on getting rid of everyone in my family one by one in hopes of eventually getting hold of the shares. Someone—you, probably—would be bound to notice.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mason said, his voice lethally soft. “I’d notice if anything happened to you.”
She shivered again, but not from the chill in the night air. Mason’s vow scared her, but it also gave her a strange confidence. If anything happened to her, he would tear the Colfax family apart.
“So I think I’m relatively safe, at least for now,” she said.
“Maybe,” Mason agreed. He sounded reluctant. “If someone did murder Mary and Sara, he or she miscalculated. But that doesn’t mean the killer won’t try other tactics.”
“Such as?”
“Intimidation? An offer you can’t refuse? Hell, I don’t know. But if you sold the shares back to the family, you would take that issue off the front burner.”
“The shares are the only cards I have to play.”
He watched the moonlit surface of the water, not speaking. The leaves overhead rustled.
“I have to do this,” Lucy said finally.
“I know.” This time he sounded resigned to the inevitable. “In your shoes, I’d be doing the same thing.”
“Well, actually, you are doing the same thing,” she pointed out. “In a way.”
“Guess it’s just who we are.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I’m sorry for dragging you into the situation.”
He moved then, one hand closing around her shoulder. Deliberately, he turned her to face him. He gripped her other shoulder and tugged her
closer.
“Whatever you do, do not say you’re sorry,” he said. “I’m doing this for my own reasons.”
She managed a misty smile. “I know. You’re doing it because you can’t help yourself. You’re a guardian angel by nature.”
“No, I’m doing it at least in part because I’ve got a few questions about what really happened to Sara and Mary, too. But I think I should make something very clear.”
“What’s that?”
“Mostly I’m doing this because of you.”
She was not sure how to respond to that, but it didn’t matter, because he kissed her then, and she was stunned into speechlessness.
The kiss was not a teenage girl’s fantasy come true. It was so much more, because she was a woman now and she knew something about kissing—enough to judge Mason’s kiss. It was not the kiss of her girlish dreams. There was nothing sweet or romantic or gently seductive about it. This kiss was all about primal masculine desire and fiercely controlled passion. This was the kind of kiss a man gave a woman when he set out to make it clear that he wanted her.
She knew intuitively that there were only two possible responses to such a kiss: she could return it with interest or she could break free and walk back to the car. There was no middle ground. There never would be, not with Mason Fletcher.
For the first time in her life she realized that there was no middle ground for her, either. She went all in, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back with a sensual hunger she had never before experienced. Excitement sent adrenaline sparking through her.
By the time he freed her lips and moved his mouth to her ear, she was hot and cold, breathless and a little shaky. She clutched him, savoring his scent and the hard feel of his unyielding body. When she kissed the warm skin of his throat, he exhaled deeply. It could have been a sigh of pleasure or surrender or exultation. She could not be sure. But his breathing was harsher now.
He used one finger to raise her chin. His mouth came back down on hers in another intense kiss. She could feel the heat of the fire that smoldered just beneath the surface.
He shuddered, took a deep breath and held her slightly away from him. In the moonlight his eyes were darkly brilliant. Fascinated, she touched the side of his jaw. He turned his mouth into her hand and kissed her palm.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming,” he said, his voice rough and edgy. “Because I sure did.”
“I saw it coming,” she admitted. “But it still caught me by surprise.”
“Same with me,” he said. “I didn’t think I could still get surprised like that.”
She smiled. “Thirteen years ago, I had a terrible crush on you. But you were barely aware of my existence.”
He speared his fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “You were just a kid.”
“Who needed rescuing. Yes, I know. But I’m not a kid anymore.”
“I noticed.” He brushed his mouth lightly across hers. “Definitely not a kid. I’d give a hell of a lot to take you to bed tonight, but it’s probably too soon and there’s no bed.”
It wasn’t a statement, she realized. It was a question.
“I’m sure the problem of a bed could be handled,” she said. “But you’re right, it’s too soon.” She slipped lightly out of his embrace and started back toward the car. “Which makes it time to leave.”
“Hey, you could have at least argued with me about the timing thing,” he said behind her.
She laughed, suddenly feeling more lighthearted than she had in a long while. She was awash in a delicious sense of anticipation. Mason laughed, too. He caught up with her, kissed the tip of her nose and opened the car door.
“I’ve got to tell you, all things considered, this date turned out a lot better than it looked like it would when we started out tonight,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “It did.”
He closed the door, went around the front of the car and got behind the wheel. He did not start the engine immediately. He sat quietly for a while, watching the river, very intent, very serious now.
“How will you know when the time is right?” he asked.
She smiled, serenely confident in her newfound feminine power.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you,” she said.
He flashed her a wicked grin and fired up the engine.
“Promise me you won’t forget,” he said.
“I won’t forget.”
16
Mason drove back into town, aware that in spite of extreme sexual frustration, he was feeling good—better than he had felt in ages. Years, maybe. He walked Lucy into the lobby of the inn and watched her climb the stairs. When she disappeared, he went back outside, got into the car and drove to the cabin.
The lights were still on. Joe was stretched out on the front porch. He got to his feet to greet Mason.
“Hey, there, Joe.”
Mason gave Joe a greeting rub behind the ears and opened the front door. Joe followed him inside and padded into the darkened kitchen.
Deke was still awake, lounging on the sofa. He was watching a movie on television. Mason heard Bogart speak the familiar last line of the film: “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Mason headed for the kitchen. “Casablanca again?”
“Best movie ever made.” Deke pushed himself up off the couch. “About time you got home.”
“It’s a little late to tell me I’ve got a curfew,” Mason said. He went into the kitchen, flipped on the overhead light, opened the cupboard and took down the bottle of whiskey that was always there. “Probably should have done that fifteen years ago.”
Deke made his way into the kitchen. “You never got into any trouble you couldn’t handle, so why bother giving you a curfew?” He sat down at the table. “How did things go tonight?”
“Beats me.” Mason took two glasses out of the cupboard and splashed a little whiskey into each. He put both glasses on the table and sat down across from Deke. “Lucy and I both think that there is some real instability inside the Colfax empire. Got a hunch Warner’s second wife is sleeping with the CEO, Cecil Dillon, and it looks like Quinn is drinking—maybe a lot. As for Jillian, you saw her yesterday. She looks desperate.”
“Maybe scared.”
Mason thought about that. “Maybe. One thing’s for sure: Everyone with a vested interest in the merger wants it to go through—except Warner. He owns the largest block of shares, but if the others combine their shares, they can outvote him.”
“Unless Lucy sides with him.”
“Unless.”
Mason drank some of the whiskey.
“Lucy is going to take a lot of heat from both sides,” Deke said. “She ought to sell those shares back to the family and get out of Dodge while the getting is good.”
“She won’t—not until she’s got some answers.”
Deke drank some whiskey and exhaled heavily. “Figured as much. Sounds like she turned out a lot like you. Stubborn as hell.”
“Yeah.” Mason smiled. “Yeah, she’s a little on the stubborn side.”
Deke cocked a brow. “You really think that car accident that took Sara and Mary might have been murder?”
“I don’t know.” Mason leaned back in his chair and drank a little more whiskey. “I pulled up the accident report this morning. There was nothing in it to indicate that it was anything other than an accident.”
“Manzanita Road hasn’t been well maintained in years. It’s used mostly by motorcyclists and bicyclists who are into off-road riding. But Mary and Sara both knew it well. They drove it countless times. Everyone knows they liked to stop off at the old commune and have a snack.”
“The accident occurred early in the afternoon. There was no fog. No indication that either of them
had been drinking.”
Deke sipped some whiskey. “Accidents happen.”
“Sure. But there’s something else I don’t like about this one.”
“What?”
“The timing. Lot of money in play because of the Colfax merger. Lot of tension in the family.”
“There’s always been tension in that family. Warner is a tough SOB. Got to hand it to him, he built himself a real empire. But he paid a price.”
“And now all he wants to do, apparently, is make wine.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Deke said. “The company still means a hell of a lot to him.”
Mason raised his brows. “You don’t think he’d murder his own sister to try to get his hands on those shares, do you?”
“Mary wasn’t his sister—not by blood, at any rate. She was his stepsister. Her mother was a widow with a little girl when she married Warner’s father.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“A lot of people don’t know that,” Deke said. “Or they’ve forgotten about it.”
“How did you find out? You didn’t grow up here. We didn’t move here until Aaron and I were in our teens.”
“Got the info from Becky. She was born in Summer River.”
Mason nodded. “Did Becky tell you anything else?”
“She did, and it’s something you might find interesting. She told me how Mary got those shares and why they are wild cards. When Mary turned twenty-five she came into an inheritance from her mother’s side. That’s where she got the money to invest in Warner’s company. Mary believed in the company because she knew that Warner had a talent for making money. But she and Warner were never close. For Mary, it was a business investment. Warner was desperate for the cash infusion, so he gave her the shares on her terms.”
“Okay, that changes things up a bit. Any idea why the partnership between Colfax and Brinker broke up?”
“I heard the same story everyone else heard. After his son disappeared, Jeffrey Brinker lost interest in Colfax and Brinker. He became obsessed with trying to discover what had happened to Tristan.” Deke wrapped both hands around the whiskey glass and looked straight at Mason. “Only natural. I’d have done the same if you or Aaron had gone missing.”
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