“Bring me some coffee,” the sheriff said. “Black.”
She nodded and shuffled back out the door.
“I’m fine, but thanks for asking,” Roland said.
“Aw, hell. Sorry. It’s just—”
“Never mind. Tell me what’s going on.”
“For starters, Leo isn’t his real name. It’s Jerome Fisher. And his parents aren’t dead. They’re alive, retired, and living in a condo in Florida. I spoke to the father this morning. He hasn’t seen his son in five years, and the last time he popped in to say hello, he stole every dime they had from their safe.”
“I’d guess that’s why they haven’t spoken in five years.”
Sally returned with the coffee and plopped it down on the desk. The sheriff took a swig and swallowed. It was hot enough to rival a mouthful of atomic fireballs, but he didn’t care.
Roland leaned back and clasped his hands together behind his head. “Why would he lie to my daughter about his parents?”
“Maybe because he was married.”
“Yeah, to Isabelle.”
The sheriff shook his head. “To two other women, one of whom died after an apparent suicide, and the other, a Marsha Santino. They are still married. Can’t seem to locate her though.”
Roland cocked his head to the side. “Son of a bitch. That’s not all, is it?”
“The guy was a con-artist. He’s wanted in three states for money laundering. I want to believe Isabelle didn’t know anything about it.”
“Of course she didn’t!”
“If I could offer some advice, Roland…go home and talk to your daughter.”
Isabelle brushed the thick, coarse mane that flowed down the back of her horse with her fingers. “It’s been a long time since we’ve went on a ride together.”
Roland pointed to the sling that wrapped around Isabelle’s left arm. “You sure you’re alright with only one hand on the reins?”
She nodded.
They rode out past the vineyard and through the field that ran along the backside of the property. Roland, who usually didn’t hesitate to spark a conversation, was quiet to the point that Isabelle could hear the crunch of every leaf her horse stepped over like her ear was nailed to the ground.
“You want to tell me why we’re out here?”
Roland fidgeted with the leather reins around the horse. “I wanted some time alone with my daughter.”
She slanted her eyes toward him. “And there’s no other reason?”
His eyes veered to a thicket of trees in the distance.
“What is it?” she said.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
Roland tugged on the reins and brought his horse to a standstill. Isabelle followed suit. They sat on their saddles and neither moved. After a short time he said, “Probably just an animal or somethin’.”
He grazed the side of the horse with his boot and continued. Every so often Isabelle peeked over at him. The years of hard work showed in every crevice of his leathery face, but she still thought he was the most handsome father she’d ever seen.
“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”
He twisted around. “I never thought I’d be at a loss, but…”
“All my life you’ve told me straight, Dad. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“It’s about Leo. I spoke with the sheriff this morning and I’ve learned some things.”
“Like what?”
“He was involved in some kind of double life.”
“Why would you think that?”
He paused for a minute.
“Dad, just say it. Please.”
He breathed in the words he wanted to say and ejected them out like a machine gun engaged in rapid fire. “His real name isn’t Leo, his parents aren’t dead, and he had another wife.”
Something whizzed by Isabelle’s ear that felt like the sting of a bee. She swept her finger across it, but didn’t feel cartilage, it was runny. She brought her finger in front of her face and panicked. “What the—dad?”
Roland’s hand was gripped over his lower abdomen. His body swayed to the side, and he fell, bringing the horse down with him.
“Dad!”
Isabelle dismounted and ran to her father who attempted to pull himself up with his free hand. “Let me help you,” she said.
He pushed her away. “I can do this. I don’t know what happened. All of the sudden I felt a sharp pain.”
Isabelle placed her hand over her father’s and pulled it back. “Oh my gosh, you’re bleeding.”
“I’m—what?”
She pointed, “Your shirt.”
The horse flicked its mane back and forth a few times and then stood back up, unharmed. Isabelle grabbed her dad’s shirt and yanked. The buttons broke free from their metal snaps and her mouth gaped open. “You’ve been shot!”
She wrenched the sweater from around her waist and tied it around him—tight. She’d seen it done before in the movies—and whether it was the right thing to do or not, it was the single foremost idea in her mind.
“Can you ride?” she said.
“Think so.”
With her one good arm, she helped him up on his horse, hoisted herself back up on her own and took the reins from both horses in her right hand. She knew he would cuss her later, but riding through the vineyard was the quickest way back to the house, and right now, her only desire was to get him there—fast.
CHAPTER 12
Isabelle’s sister approached with two cups of coffee, one in each hand, and gave her a curious look. “Who were you on the phone with just now?”
“Emmett.”
“Mmmph.”
“You can say it, you know.”
Melanie sat down next to her and handed her a Styrofoam cup. “I don’t see what good that would do at this point.”
“Yeah, but I know you want to—so go ahead, lay in with all that sisterly psychic priestess stuff about how you knew Leo was wrong for me.”
“Your husband, or ah, pretend husband is dead, and his name’s not Leo.” She slouched back in her chair. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about the whole thing, I know what you’re going through, so let’s forget it for now.”
Isabelle shook her head. “No you don’t.”
“What?”
“Know what I’m going through. How could you?”
“I didn’t take the time to bring you a cup of coffee so we could sit here and hash it all out. We’re here for dad.”
“If you let it go now, I’ll just hear about it later when you get mad at me for something else and then you’ll do what you always do: blow up and let it all spill out of your mouth until I’ve heard every lecture you’ve wanted to give me for the past five years.”
Melanie offered up the silent treatment for a few minutes and then said, “Answer one question for me.”
“What?”
“When you woke up that morning in the hotel and realized what had happened to your—whatever his name is, what did you do?”
“Why does it matter?”
Melanie frowned. “Answer the question.”
“I called Emmett, so what?”
“And today, after you got dad all checked in, what was the first thing you did?”
Isabelle smirked. “That’s two questions.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
“You know who I called. I told you when you walked over here.”
Melanie rifled around in her pocket, pulled out her keys, and stood. Before she was out of earshot, she turned around. “Seriously Isabelle, for a former high school valedictorian you can be pretty stupid sometimes.”
“Are you okay?”
Isabelle removed her moistened hands from her face and stared up at Emmett. “I would be if none of this was happening right now.”
He walked over to the reception counter, pulled a few pieces of tissue from a box and offered them to her. “They said your dad is going to be fine.”
/> “Why is this happening—I don’t understand?”
“Your father is worth a lot of money.”
“Why would that matter? Who could benefit from that besides family?”
Isabelle’s eyes wandered over to the vending machine across the hall and she saw someone she recognized. She looked at Emmett. “I’ll be right back.”
The woman at the machine bent down and pulled out a candy bar. When she stood back up, Isabelle was in front of her.
“Tara, I didn’t think I’d get the chance to see you again,” Isabelle said.
Tara’s eyes were fixed on Isabelle’s arm. “What happened to you?”
Isabelle wiggled her arm. “Long story. What are you doing here?”
“My mom,” Tara said. “She had a heart attack last night.”
“Oh…I’m sorry.”
“What about you?” Tara said.
“My dad—he uh, got shot today.”
Tara latched on to her candy bar like she was trying to squeeze all the nougat from the center onto the floor. “That’s awful, is he okay?”
Isabelle nodded. “He’s fine.”
“Was it an accident?”
“Something like that. Is your mom alright?”
Tara glanced at the clock on the wall. “She’s supposed to be out of surgery any minute, so I’m going to ask if they’ll let me see her,” she said. “But I’d love to grab lunch one of these days and pay you back for that coffee.”
“I don’t know. There’s so much going on right now.”
“That’s the perfect reason to take a break.”
“Could we make it later in the week?”
Tara scribbled some digits onto a piece of paper. “This is the number to my cell. Call me and we’ll set up a time.” She started down the hall and then turned. “It was nice seeing you again, Isabelle.”
As Isabelle walked back toward Emmett, something occurred to her. Tara had called her Isabelle, but there was just one problem with that: in the brief encounters they’d shared, she never once mentioned her name.
CHAPTER 13
Roland tilted back in his La-Z-Boy recliner and watched his wife and daughters dote on him like a lioness tending to her newborn cub.
“If I need something I’ll holler,” he said. “Now if the three of you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to Hell on Wheels.”
He clicked the play button on the remote and thought his message had been well received until he spied the outline of a person in the doorway.
“How many times does a man have to start and stop a program before he can get through the damn thing? I feel like I’m in a house full of needy children.” When there was no answer Roland shifted his head around. “Oh, it’s you.”
The sheriff uncrossed his arms and walked in. “I just need a few minutes,” he said. “And then you can get back to ah, Hells Wheels, or whatever you called it.”
“Whoever fired at me is a stinkin’ lousy shot.”
“I imagine if they weren’t, you’d be dead. You should be grateful.”
Roland nodded toward the door. “Close that, will you?” When it was sealed, he said, “Have you been out in the trees yet?”
The sheriff nodded. “Didn’t find much—a couple broken branches that indicate where the shot was fired from and a footprint, maybe, in the dirt.”
“Size?”
“Small, like an eight or a nine.”
“Women’s?”
“Or a petite man’s.”
He rolled his eyes. “A woman shot at me? No wonder she missed.”
“A woman? Maybe. Shot at you? I don’t think so. I believe Isabelle was the target.”
“But I’m the one who took the bullet.”
“Like you said—it was a lousy one. She, if it was a she, missed. Based on the trajectory, it’s possible. ‘Course, I could be wrong. This is what, my second case like this in the last five years?”
Roland wagged his finger at him. “Yeah, but everyone around here knows you’ve been pulled in to help with plenty other homicides in other counties because of your expertise in the area.”
“I’ve requested some extra manpower to keep an eye on you two, but so far they’re slow in coming. Davis is here now. But, he’s all I’ve got.”
“First poison, then Isabelle almost gets plowed into, and now a gun. Doesn’t make much sense.”
The sheriff nodded. “It’s messy. Whoever is responsible is unorganized. It’s like these attacks are off the cuff without much thought or consideration to follow through. Until I can find out more, I suggest you two stay put.”
The wind rustled through the leaves on the trees creating a sound like a rattlesnake ready to strike. Isabelle loved it when the breeze kicked in with a sliver of attitude. It sent a fruit-filled aroma through the coastal air.
“Where are you off to, Izzy?”
She flipped her head back. “Thought I’d take a walk.”
Emmett quickened his pace and caught up to her. “You don’t take walks.”
“How do you know? Maybe I’ve changed since I’ve been away.”
“Have you?”
She sighed. “Has my dad mentioned anything to you about what happened?”
“The day he got shot?”
She nodded. Emmett averted his eyes to an undone button on his shirt.
“It’s okay, you can talk about it,” she said. “Do you know about Leo—I mean Jerome? Do you know what the sheriff is saying about him?”
“I know he lied about his name and his parents. And Roland said he was also married to a Marsha somebody.”
“I didn’t know her name.”
“Sorry.”
Isabelle felt Emmett’s eyes on her.
“Hey—you don’t have to be embarrassed,” Emmett said. “Not in front of me.”
“I hate to admit I didn’t know what I was getting into when I agreed to marry him. I actually still don’t know—not the whole story. I’ve cried over him every single day since he died, and the truth is, he probably wasn’t even worth the tears I shed for him. He lied to me, and I believed every word of it.”
The sun’s rays glistened along the path, and for a split second, something caught Isabelle’s eye that practically blinded her. It was the size of a penny and sparkled like a gold nugget in a miner’s pan. She knelt down to get a closer look.
“You alright?” Emmett said.
Isabelle snatched a necklace from the rock beside her and stuffed it into her pocket. “Yeah—just need to tighten the lace on my shoe.”
When she pushed herself up with her right hand, she faltered. Emmett caught her and lifted her back up to a full standing position a few inches from his face. Their eyes locked and she detected something different in the way he looked at her. It was almost like he felt sorry for her, but there was also something more. And when had he gotten so muscular?
“Izzy, I wanted to—I’ve been meaning to—”
“You ready to head back?”
He sighed and released her. “Up to you.”
They turned around and Emmett flicked her on the shoulder. “Told ya you weren’t a walker.”
CHAPTER 14
The next morning Isabelle sat on a padded blue chair at a table filled with a handful of suits she’d never met before. In her faded jeans and cotton V-neck shirt, she felt out of place. She had no idea the meeting would be so formal. The only other woman in the room was seated two chairs down and dressed in a pencil skirt and a fitted jacket with a coral silk shirt underneath that sparkled depending on how her body shifted. Her dark locks were wound up into a bun that was secured in place with a chopstick-looking fastener. It was pulled so tight, Isabelle wondered if her eyes hurt.
Positioned at the head of the table was Isabelle’s father. He’d never worn a suit in his life, not even on his wedding day, and he wasn’t about to break that trend now. Isabelle had attempted to postpone the meeting and reminded him he needed rest, but he balked at the idea and assured her he was fine. His only
request was that she came to the meeting with him. For years he’d tried to bring her into the family business and she’d always resisted, but he was just starting to recover. The least she could do was to sit in on one meeting while she was there.
Roland looked at the empty chair to his left. “Well, we’re not all here, but let’s get started. I’ve called everyone together today to announce a couple changes. I’ve been in charge of the estate for over thirty years now, and I’ll never forget the day my father passed it down to me.”
The door burst open and Emmett rushed in with a face that said ‘someone get me a razor’ and a shirt that needed to be run through the wrinkle-free cycle a few times. He glossed over the group and then scrambled to the vacant seat next to Roland. Isabelle was shocked. She knew he worked for her father, but in a leadership capacity? All these years she’d thought he was only in charge of the harvest. Roland looked at Emmett and they shared a glance like two brothers that harbored a secret map in their possession that would lead them to buried treasure. Argh!
“Over the past year,” Roland continued, “I’ve started to slow down. I didn’t want to admit it to myself or anyone else for that matter, but I haven’t been able to manage things like I used to, and because of that, I’ve decided to do what’s best for the vineyard and my family.
Isabelle was stunned. Was he getting ready to hand the winery over to Emmett? He’d always said Emmett was like a son to him, and the family business had been passed down from father to son for generations, but he wasn’t family. She had to be wrong. He wouldn’t do that—would he?
Emmett’s right hand quivered over a manila folder he held in his hand, and his eyes roamed around the different corners of the room but never rested on her.
“A few of you haven’t met my daughter Isabelle, and that’s why I’ve asked her to join us today,” Roland said. “When she was a child I taught her everything there was to know about this business, and though she’s been away for a year, I always hoped one day she would return and make her life here in this valley again.”
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