Crushed (The Fredrickson Winery Novels)

by Barbara Ellen Brink

  “We’re not leaving until you tell us what you and your brother have to do with Sean Parker and the plot to kidnap Davy!”

  Margaret hoped Billie didn’t shove the woman back in her chair, but from the look on her face she was that close. “Carlita,” she said, intervening, her voice soft and understanding, “it’s all right. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Davy.” She glanced out the front window and saw the boys still playing with the dog. “You and Mario are part of the Sanchez family, aren’t you?”

  Carlita continued to wring her hands, but she gave a small nod.

  The admission clearly floored Billie. “What?”

  “Adam and I were looking at the photographs last night and realized that Mario looks very much like this man.” Margaret pointed at the elder Sanchez. “He’s your father, isn’t he?” she asked Carlita.

  “Si. There’s just me and Mario now. He told me if Juan and I did what he asked we would all be able to stay in America. He purchased papers for them. My husband and son are not legal,” she blurted, unable to keep the secrets bottled up any longer. Her eyes were filled with misery. “I didn’t want to help that man get out of prison, but Mario said it was for the best. He’s never gotten over Martina’s death.”

  “Martina?” The name was but a breath from Billie’s lips.

  “Si,” the woman nodded, “Tina was our baby sister. She was only twelve when we lived at the winery. Papa found out she was pregnant. He was furious, but she wouldn’t tell who the father was. She just cried all the time.” Her eyes welled up and she sniffed. “Papa decided we had to move. He couldn’t have everyone know that his daughter was a whore. So we went back to Mexico.”

  “And what happened to Tina?” Billie asked, her voice gentled with understanding.

  “Tina and the baby died. She was just too small to give birth.” She drew a breath and slowly released it, her face crumpling with the memories. “Mario found out that Sean Parker was the father. That he had raped her.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “He swore he would kill him someday.”

  Margaret was baffled. “If he hated my father so much, why would he help him get out of prison?” And then the answer exploded in her mind. Mario wanted to kill Sean—personally. He couldn’t wait for time or another inmate to do the job for him. Mario Sanchez was playing the part of a vigilante.

  “Mario and Sean were friends when we lived at the winery. So he felt like he was stabbed in the heart twice,” Carlita said, sitting back in the rocker. She looked down at her lap.

  “Where did they go?” Billie asked.

  “Mexico. My brother belongs to the cartel now. He will make Sean Parker suffer many times over for what he did,” she said, beginning to rock back and forth, the chair making a thumping sound against the thin carpet.

  Margaret saw fear in the woman’s eyes, in her hunched shoulders. Her brother had turned into the monster he sought. The sins of the fathers were far-reaching indeed. Billie touched her arm, and inclined her head toward the door.

  “Thank you, Carlita,” she said.

  “You won’t turn us in?” the woman pleaded, lifting her arms toward them. “If we go back they will take Pablo and make him into a killer. That is why we left. Mario said it was the only way to keep him safe.”

  Margaret met the woman’s frightened gaze and shook her head.

  She followed Billie outside.

  Davy wasn’t ready to leave yet, but he reluctantly climbed in the backseat. Pablo stood in the yard, waving them off. “Are we ever going to see Pablo again?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, Davy.” Margaret turned in the front seat and gave him a soft smile. “Sometimes we only have a short time with people we care about, and then they’re gone.” Thoughts of Agosto came to mind. Sometime soon she would have to have that conversation with her son.

  Billie drove out of the neighborhood, keeping her thoughts to herself. But once they were cruising along on the highway toward home, she glanced over. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  Margaret knew what she meant. She didn’t have an answer. Finding out that a member of the Mexican cartel had a vendetta against her father was mind boggling. Sean Parker was an evil man who had destroyed many lives. He was also her father. She didn’t want to imagine what his sins had finally wrought.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Welcome!” Antonio greeted them at the door of the restaurant, his eyes straying toward Billie’s mother. His smile stretched wide when he caught her eye. “Sabrina. You’ve come back to me.”

  She took male attention like a seasoned veteran. “If it wasn’t such a horribly long flight, I’d come back more often—to see my daughter of course.” She let him kiss her on the cheek, before sweeping past him into the dining room. Her sapphire blue knee-length dress sparkled with the glint of sequins along the neckline, accentuating dark hair and creamy skin. Margaret was amazed that she appeared so young.

  The restaurant was closed to the public, allowing Carl to throw Handel and Billie an elaborate engagement celebration. In a white tuxedo Carl moved about the room greeting each guest, the perfect host. He and his brother Antonio reminded Margaret just a bit too much of their cousin Agosto in looks and manner. But unlike Agosto, their suave, handsome looks were only frosting on their true personalities. Both of them were teddy bears, lovers of women, but gentlemen through and through.

  “Would you like a glass of champagne?” Adam stood at her elbow in a black suit and emerald green silk tie, a fluted glass in each hand. His auburn hair was parted on the side and combed back.

  “Thank you.” Her gaze strayed to the happy couple. Handel and Billie were already on the dance floor, moving together to the slow seductive strains of a Rumba.

  “You look amazing,” Adam said, clearly enjoying the sight of her in a dress after seeing her in nothing but jeans and t-shirts for the past week. She’d taken special pains to pick just the right one, something feminine, a bit alluring, and apparently his favorite color. Emerald green. He did look pleased.

  Carl made a “lets get this party started” motion toward the D.J. he’d hired for the night, and the man pumped up the music with a Brittany Spears heart-thumping dance tune. Handel glanced up and shook his head. He grinned and pulled Billie laughing from the floor.

  “Handel’s too chicken to try that one,” Billie said, out of breath. Her dark hair swung around her face and he gently pushed it away, then leaned in and kissed her.

  “I’m not chicken. I just prefer dancing close to the woman I love.”

  Margaret glanced at Adam, and imagined he felt as she did. They were the third and fourth wheels on a Tandem bicycle. “Want to dance?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

  “Thought you’d never ask.” He took her hand and they moved out to the dance floor.

  She spotted Davy up on the stage, watching the DJ and asking questions. When she tucked him in bed tonight he’d probably tell her he’d changed his mind about the wine vintner gig and now wanted to be a DJ. She smiled when he looked up and saw them dancing together. He grinned and waved.

  Carl made his famous tortellini with asparagus and garlic cream sauce and served Margaret’s Wine with dinner. Everyone had to get up and give a toast, sharing thoughts or best wishes for the happy couple.

  Sabrina Fredrickson finally stood, raised her glass, and smiled at everyone around the table. “If it weren’t for Davy, I might not be here tonight. Sometimes it takes tragedy to bring families together, and although we don’t enjoy going through those times, we end up stronger in the end. My beautiful daughter, Wilhelmina, is a true example of having been refined in the fire. Now Margaret has been tested and proven as well.” She glanced toward Adam and raised her brows. “I don’t think I have to tell one young man here tonight what a prize she would make.”

  Everybody laughed, except Adam, who turned apologetic eyes toward Margaret. She smiled and reached for his hand under the edge of the tablecloth.

  Sabrina continued. “
To Handel and Billie. May your love burn as bright as the California sun, be strong enough to pull you through any rough patches and fertile enough to give me many grandchildren.”

  She took her seat amid loud and raucous applause. Antonio, sitting on her right, leaned in brushing his fingers along her neck and whispered something in her ear. Margaret wondered if Sabrina might be the next Fredrickson to fall for a California lover.

  The DJ started up the music again with Neil Diamond’s classic September Morn. It seemed appropriate. It was late September and half past midnight already. Margaret looked at Adam and inclined her head toward the dance floor. He pulled out her chair and took her hand.

  Sally and Loren were already swaying together. Sally’s head only came up to his chest but he didn’t seem to mind. He playfully spun her around and pulled her back in close, his chin resting atop her head. She wrapped her arms around him and held on for the ride.

  “Look at them. Complete opposites, but totally meant for each other.”

  Adam smiled. “Sounds like what you told me about winemaking. It takes just the right amount of acidity and sugar content to make the perfect wine.” His gaze was relentless. “How do you think we fare? Too sweet? Too acidic? Or just right?”

  “Time will tell. A few more months to go through clarification and fermentation and if we’re lucky we might just have a lovely, complex, but well-balanced relationship.”

  “Is that how it’s going to be? Everything relating to wine?”

  She shrugged. “It’s my life.”

  “Well music is my life and I just made up a song for you.”

  “Just now?”

  “Well, we were sitting at the table a really long time,” he said, his voice teasing.

  He started to sing in a soft gravelly whisper, getting a little louder as he really got into it.

  “I fell in love with a West coast girl,

  In the southern California world

  She turned my northern mind awhirl,

  Made me say some things and I acted the fool

  Yeah, I’m a little bit drunk on Margaret’s wine,

  Margaret’s wine, Margaret’s wine

  Cause she crushed my heart, but it turned out fine

  Margaret’s Wine, Margaret’s wine

  Yeah, I’m a little bit drunk on Margaret’s wine”

  He dragged the last word out and looked surprised when he got a ripple of applause from those on the dance floor near enough to overhear him. Margaret felt the color rise in her face and she pressed it against his chest, laughing.

  He pulled her to a quiet corner away from the others. “So what do you think?”

  She shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. “I think you’re more than a little bit drunk on Margaret’s wine.”

  He leaned close enough to kiss her but stopped a breath away. “Yet I still crave more.” He pressed his lips to hers and drank deep.

  *****

  There was a package on Billie’s desk when she returned from lunch Monday afternoon. She picked it up. No return address, but it was postmarked, Juarez, Mexico. She bit her bottom lip and ripped open the seal.

  Inside was the bundle of Polaroids–minus one. Martina Sanchez.

  Announcing the 3rd Fredrickson Winery Novel

  Available Now!

  Read 1st Chapter Below:

  SAVOR

  Chapter One

  “You surely can’t expect the bank to give us another loan based on this.” Billie shook the copy of the financial statement her brother had printed out for her. “Didn’t you even try to make us look good? I mean, really – the government puts out statements all the time that don’t divulge the entire truth. They just skim the surface. Can’t you do that for Fredrickson’s, or are you too busy playing musician every night?”

  Any man of mine, better walk the line, better show me a teasing, squeezing, pleasing kind of time…Shania’s twang burst from Billie’s cell phone sitting on the desk across the room, but she was too caught up in her argument with Adam to pick up. Handel would understand she was busy and leave a text like he always did.

  Adam slammed open the file cabinet. He’d been growing a scruffy beard for some reason and looked more like a deer hunter than an accountant, but apparently it was what all the happening musicians were sporting these days. “Don’t come down on me because your numbers are in the tank. You’re the one who thought you could go from being a little known lawyer to running a little known winery without any little known expertise.”

  “Whoa!” Sally stepped between them, eyebrows and hands raised in self-defense. “Let me exit gracefully before you come to blows, please. I don’t want to be a witness in the trial to whatever is about to happen.” She pulled open the door and escaped down the hall.

  “Thanks a lot!” Adam huffed. “Now you’ve scared Sally away from her desk and I’ll have to answer the damn phone.”

  “As if! When’s the last time it rang?” She threw the papers down on Sally’s desk and crossed her arms, blowing an angry breath through her nostrils. “We are sinking here, Adam, and this is not going to help.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I can’t change the numbers. You know that. Either the bank gives us another loan based on our forecast or they refuse based on our past. There’s no magical number crunching I can do to change their policies. We just have to hope they see a future for Fredrickson’s.”

  She was silent, staring at a coffee stain in the carpet at her feet. All the anger had drained away in her tirade, but her shoulders drooped at the weight of responsibility she felt for the winery’s employees and their futures. Sally. Margaret. Even Loren and Ernesto had become good friends and were like family to her now.

  “Billie,” Adam reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s going to be all right. If the bank won’t give you the loan, I’m sure Handel would love to invest in Fredrickson’s. He even – ” He broke off at the look on her face.

  “You didn’t tell him that we needed the money, did you?” she demanded.

  “Are you delusional? I don’t need to tell him anything. He already knows we need the money. Just because you refuse to speak with him about it, doesn’t make the problem disappear. You’re married now, Billie. Try acting like it.” He turned to open the door, but she jumped in the way.

  “How dare you tell me how to act! You don’t know anything about my relationship with Handel. Fredrickson’s has nothing to do with our marriage and I intend to keep it that way.” She glared at him, arms crossed.

  He just looked at her for a long moment, his face softening despite her attitude. “You might believe that, Sis, but I’m pretty sure Handel sees it differently. If you can’t even share the ups and downs of your life with the man you married, then what’s the point? Fredrickson’s is a big part of you now and it’s still a big part of who Handel is, whether he’s monetarily invested in it or not. He wants to be a part of your life, not just the man who shares your bed. If you can’t see that, then you need a heart transplant.”

  He reached around her for the handle of the door and she automatically stepped away. A tight ball of fear and guilt twisted her insides, but she fought to tamp it down. Adam didn’t understand. He didn’t know how hard it was to stay in control, to keep the different aspects of her life separate. She didn’t want to worry Handel with her business woes. He had enough of his own problems, with a client he was trying to save from a murder conviction. Besides, he didn’t need her input on his court case anymore than she needed his on the winery.

  And yet… Handel did share his work with her. He often asked her opinion and discussed aspects of his cases in a general sort of way without infringing on his attorney/client confidentiality clause. He cared what she thought.

  Why couldn’t she do the same? Sometimes she had whole conversations with him in her head, but then face-to-face she struggled for words and many times things went unsaid. As if not saying something took away its power to hurt them
.

  Just this morning he’d called to talk before he went into court. He chatted about the weather, his client’s terrible new haircut, and randomly announced that when or if they had children, he knew they would be extraordinary. She’d gone all quiet, unable to get past the glibness of the comment to what lay beneath. Knowing how much he loved Davy and spending time with the boy, she was confident he would make a wonderful father, but… she wasn’t so sure about being a parent herself. She barely passed as an adult, much less an example to small clones.

  She drew a deep breath and slowly expelled, loosening the knot around her chest. They really needed to talk when he got home. She missed him when he was gone overnight. This case had been taking him away far too many nights already. It would be a relief when it was over. She never slept as well when he was gone. Wrapped secure in Handel’s arms, her nightmares no longer stood a chance.

  Sally pushed the door open. “All clear?”

  “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Billie said, retrieving the papers she’d thrown on the desk.

  “Look,” Sally said, taking her arm and gently turning her around. “Everyone around here knows that things aren’t fine. The economy sucks. Why should Fredrickson’s have it easy?” She sighed. “You should give your brother a break.”

  “I know,” she said, “and I’m sorry you were forced to witness another one of my meltdowns.”

  “Meltdown? That was nothing.” She waved a hand as though shooing away a fly. “You should see the fights my family get into at Christmas. Since there’s no snow to pelt each other with, we just run the hose in the backyard and mud wrestle.”

  Billie shook her head, grinning. “Someday I’ve got to meet your family. For some reason I keep imagining you as a foundling left on the doorstep of the winery.”

  “Not far from the truth,” she said, slipping back into the chair behind her desk. “I’ve been here nearly that long.”