by Olga Bicos
But as it turned out there wasn’t a tape recorder. Instead, the detective took out her card and placed it on the desk. Folding her hands in front of her, she told him, “I think you’re being set up, Mr. Cutty. I pretty much reached the same conclusion the last time around.”
He stared at her, caught off guard as she slid the card toward him. The lieutenant had this look. Gotcha. She pointed to his chair behind the desk. Picking up her card, he took a seat and waited to hear the rest.
“We found the abandoned Town Car. The vehicle was reported stolen this morning from a limo service. The car was tricked up with all the bells and whistles and then some. The perfect car for the job. Whoever did this was a real pro. He didn’t leave a trace.”
She leaned forward, making sure she had eye contact. “You have an enemy, Mr. Cutty,” she told him. “Someone out there is trying to repeat the past, maybe revive the investigation for their own reasons. Whoever is playing these games is wasting my time and yours. Not to mention that they’re dangerous.”
But Ryan was thinking about the report Holly had shown him in the tasting room; the information in that folder pointed the finger squarely at him. “Why the change of heart, Lieutenant? If there was evidence that some other car forced Nina off the road, why are you so sure it wasn’t me? Why did you drop the charges in the first place?”
Because, back then, continuing the investigation might have come up with another name. Someone other than Ryan. Someone who could hurt Holly now.
The lieutenant looked at him with mild surprise. “We dropped the charges because there was no evidence that a car forced Nina Travers off that road.”
And when he shook his head, about to tell her he’d seen the report, she added, “Here’s what the crime scene investigation came up with, Mr. Cutty, a little something that wasn’t released to the press or anyone outside of the investigation. Nina wasn’t alone in that car. There was someone with her. And unless you could be in two places at once, that someone wasn’t you.”
He could feel his heart kick up in his chest. “I don’t understand.”
“We found two sets of fingerprints on the steering wheel, among other things. The theory went that Nina fought someone for control of the car. Maybe it was an accident?” She shrugged. “Maybe the owner of those prints wanted the car to careen off the road with Nina still inside. We never identified the prints. Unless someone has a record, it’s not always so easy.” She let him fill in the blanks. “But here’s what we do know—those prints weren’t yours.”
He was trying to make sense of what she’d just said, trying to figure out how this theory that no one had talked about could exist. “I’ve never heard anything about this.”
The lieutenant stood, looking as though she’d had her say. “Nina Travers was driving erratically. The conclusion my boss came to at the time—to tie a nice little bow on the case—was alcohol and Valium. And sure as heck she had enough in her system, as well as a few other goodies.”
She gave him a moment to reflect so that he could put together in his head what she was leaving out. They couldn’t pin Nina’s death on him and they had no other suspects. And here was Nina with all this shit in her system. Why cloud up the picture with mystery prints they couldn’t trace? Case closed.
“But now you’re in charge,” he said, rising to his feet.
She nodded. “You should know it is my firm belief that your fiancée was murdered, Mr. Cutty. There was someone in that car with Nina Travers. Maybe it’s not too late to find out who.”
She made her way to the door where she turned, as if she had just remembered something. But he’d known all along that she wasn’t through.
“Mr. Cutty, in my line of work, we look for a little thing called motive. Someone wanted Nina Travers dead. And after this much time, I think you know more about why that might be than I’m ever going to find out on my own.” Garten broke out her first genuine smile. “Who else would have a better reason to help me discover the truth than the man who almost took the blame? That’s my little theory on these things. It works sometimes. Really.”
She pointed to the card now back on his desk. “You know my number if you think of anything.”
Ryan stared at the door. He felt nailed to the spot, couldn’t move. He was trying to figure something out. That folder Holly had shown him—those reports he’d read. None of it gelled with what Garten had just told him.
There was someone in that car with Nina.
Last night, leaving Holly with her brother, he thought he knew what he was doing. Back to the status quo before Holly. He didn’t believe in fairy tales, didn’t believe that you could look across a crowded room and find love. That was Holly with her theories. How had she said it? I think I picked you. Well, he had to be realistic. He couldn’t just welcome her with open arms into his nightmare.
And now this.
Only, before he could work it out in his head—the next step, the right direction—the office door opened again, slamming back in a violent motion. Gil stepped through.
“That was her,” he said, red-faced and catching his breath. “The inspector from before. When Nina died.”
Gil stumbled forward so that Ryan jumped to his feet to help him. Gil rested both hands on Ryan’s desk, his eyes wide and wild as he looked up at Ryan.
“It’s about Nina, isn’t it?” Gil prompted him when Ryan stayed silent. “Something’s happened.”
He loved Gil like a father. For the last twelve years, the focus of his life had been here, trying to make it okay for Gil since he’d lost Nina. With all his heart, he’d wanted to keep Gil safe.
Only now, he wasn’t so sure that he’d done the right thing. Working here, hiding here. Maybe it hadn’t been all about Gil. Maybe he’d been the one who wanted to stay safe, escaping that Cutty legacy, just like he’d told Daniel. Only, he hadn’t sailed off into the sunset. He’d come here, to Viña Dorada.
And now he felt at a crossroads. He was pushing Holly away, but again, he wasn’t sure why.
What was he keeping them safe from? The truth?
“Sit down, Gil,” he said, pulling the chair toward him, helping him to take a seat. “We have a lot to talk about.”
29
Holly was thinking that life was full of surprises. Maybe she should get used to that and learn to expect the unexpected.
The last five years in particular had been a merry-go-round of “surprise!” One after the other, she ticked them off: Holly, hot new associate at a top firm sliding into a bankrupt marriage and business; über-provider Harris walking out on his job; Daniel coming to the rescue; Cutty House and Nina.
She thought she should get a handle on these little bombshells, not be so out of sync with those darned bolts out of the blue. But when Ryan came up behind her, there she was, almost dropping everything, her case, the plans she’d been carting home from Cutty House.
Taking the plans from her, he guided her to his car, not saying a word. He’d parked the Aston Martin at the curb, the motor still running as if he’d been waiting for just this, for Holly to come down the steps of Cutty House. Surprise!
She thought he’d given up. Last night at the hospital, he’d almost said as much with each look, every touch. Everything he’d done spelled it out clearly: The End.
Only, here she was buckling her seat belt as he shifted into gear, which brought her back to the idea that life was full of surprises. And some were actually good, like the possibility that a happy ending with Ryan could still be in the works. All that hope springing eternal.
“I had a visitor today,” he told her. “It’s been twelve years since I’ve had the pleasure of Lieutenant Garten’s company. She’s aged well, by the way.”
She reached down, grabbing the armrest on the Aston Martin, trying not to distract him during his Mario Andretti routine as he screeched through an illegal turn, heading out of town.
“The Town Car? It was reported stolen,” he continued in what passed for a calm voice. “No lea
ds, of course. But here’s the interesting part. She had this idea, the inspector. Brilliant, really. Get this. She doesn’t think I killed Nina.”
He shook his head, the marvel of it all. Then he glanced at Holly. “But she thinks someone did. Murder her, that is.”
The next turn defied the law of physics. She made good use of the armrest, trying not to lean into the door.
Ryan continued, “Those papers from the investigation you gave me, the ones someone left like a present on your desk? They don’t quite mesh with Garten’s theory. In fact, they all but contradict what the lieutenant assures me is the real story. According to Garten, there wasn’t any evidence that Nina was forced off the road by me or anyone else.”
It didn’t take her long to put it together. “Someone doctored the papers they left on my desk?”
He nodded, his eyes now straight ahead. “I kept wondering about that when I was reading the report. I mean, I was there that night, right? I would have seen if another car was around. But there wasn’t another car—just me and Nina.”
She felt this enormous weight float off her chest, to be replaced by another. “Someone wanted me to think you were guilty.”
“Not a stretch of the imagination, by any means. But there’s this other thing Garten told me, something not released to the press or anyone not directly involved with the investigation. They found a second set of prints at the crime scene. The theory is that someone was in that car with Nina, someone who fought for control of the steering wheel.”
He steered the car so that the tires made an awful squealing sound, letting him know to concentrate. He didn’t talk after that.
Holly sat back for the ride as she thought about this new revelation. Someone was in that car with Nina…fought for control of the steering wheel. The information basically exonerated Ryan, and might even douse that conflagration of guilt he’d been feeding all these years. Because if someone wanted Nina dead, Ryan had no part in that. The accident was no longer something he alone put into play.
She looked at Ryan, wondering how he must feel, and knew she could take a good guess. They’d been on this emotional merry-go-round together the last few weeks.
In the end, Holly thought she might be getting a hold on the surprise thing. Her heart didn’t even speed up when Ryan took them back to Highway One, eventually pulling over at the site of Nina’s accident. Or maybe it was all relative. When she thought about it, the blood pounding at her temples, she knew that the adrenaline rush just couldn’t get much higher.
He pulled out the keys and slammed out of the car. She gave it a beat, then climbed out to follow him.
He was standing in the dim light of dusk, the wind in his hair, the clouds overhead burning with the sunset. A flock of seagulls caught the same fire, looking like so many sparks rising. Standing there, he could have been some romantic hero—Heathcliff on the moors. She took a moment just to watch him, knowing right then why she hadn’t told Daniel it was time to throw in the towel.
When she stepped up beside him, she slipped her hand into his.
“I’m not afraid,” she said.
He seemed to appreciate the comment. Closing his eyes, he released a deep breath, the sound of it coming out like a sigh.
“My whole life there’s been someone pulling the strings. And I felt it, you know. I knew the strings were there. I just figured that was part of the deal, part of the family obligation. You’re the last of the Cuttys, Ryan, so carry on. Even when they set up a marriage for me, I figured, why not?”
He shook his head, disbelieving. She felt as if she were back in the car, the wheels squealing on the next turn.
“I was thinking about what it might mean,” he told her. “My whole life these people told me what to do, then I disappeared into the vineyard after Nina died, believing that maybe—even a little more than maybe—her dying was my fault. So I needed to step in and help Gil. And for the next twelve years, it was all about the vineyard for me.”
“And then I show up,” she said, finishing his line of reasoning. “Just another string being pulled.” She turned to him. “That’s what Harris believed from the first. He never trusted Daniel and all the good fortune that he was sending our way.”
She could see the anger in his eyes—and something else. An energy, a challenge. “Your brother has good instincts.”
“You have no idea. The guy reads minds. Really. He could take his act on the road.”
He didn’t touch her, almost as if he thought it might not be fair, that somehow he might tilt the scales in his favor and she’d make a bad choice.
Still not looking at her, he said, “Holly, someone killed Nina that night, and they might want to hurt you because of me. Maybe this isn’t over yet?”
Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him, cutting off further doubts. When she thought she’d made her point clear, she stepped back, glad to see that, this time, he wasn’t looking anywhere but at her.
“Some things,” she said, “I get a say in, right?”
He nodded, touching her now, stroking her hair. “Yeah, but be sure, Holly. Be very sure.”
“You know what’s really interesting?” she told him, again going with her instincts. “I don’t think I was ever anything but.”
He took her back to his place. He could tell it had been a long time for Holly. For him, too. Because he’d never made love with his heart before, he knew how important every minute could be and he slowed her down when she’d speed them up.
“Not yet,” he said, when she started to unbutton his jeans. “Lay down.” Pressing her to the bed.
He felt as if he was in a trance. It was the only way he could make those voices in his head shut up—you’ll get her killed, too! He managed to keep them to a dull roar, background noise, as they explored each other.
“Is it strange,” she asked, “being with me?”
He shook his head, kissing her. “I was nineteen. We were just kids. This is different.”
And it felt different. No one had ever looked at him with such luminous eyes, showing that much desire, not hiding a thing. And she smelled so good. He couldn’t remember thinking that about any other woman. Her smell was driving him crazy.
“Did you know that most wines taste a little rough when you first bottle them?” He unbuttoned her blouse, then slipped it over her shoulders. The cuffs of the sleeves caught on her wrists. He used them to trap her hands behind her as he kissed her neck. “As they age, they lose some of their roughness.” He placed a hand on her stomach, felt her tremble at the touch. “Some quickly, some take years.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you hope I’ll age well?”
He smiled and turned her so that she lay alongside him. “The better ones,” he whispered in her ear, “always take longer.”
“Oh.”
Ryan took his time.
Eventually, they lay naked together on the bed facing each other. He brought her up on his lap, Holly’s legs coming around his hips, putting Ryan deep inside her. Connected like that, they never stopped looking at each other, never closed their eyes. When he felt her release, he knew he’d found this moment of suspended time. Finally, a feeling of peace, as if he’d waited a lifetime to find her and at long last here she was. Like a magic trick. As if they’d marked each other in some way. Mine at last.
He whispered against her mouth, “Mine.” The right one.
“Too late,” she said, opening her mouth over his. “I picked you first.”
They made love twice before they dropped back exhausted on the bed, with the sheets bunched around their legs. Eventually the breeze from the open window brought goose bumps and Ryan reached for the covers, Holly cuddling against him. He lay with one arm around her, staring up at the ceiling, all these ideas rushing through his head—his conversation with Gil, the revelations of the lieutenant and Holly most of all. He thought about how much he wanted her, like a man should want a woman—forever. He could see a house at the vineyard for them and the ba
bies they’d share with Marta and Gil.
Holding her, her breath against his chest, it all seemed so perfect and complete.
But the shadows were still there. The fear. She didn’t know everything. And he had to tell her.
“I think my father killed her,” he whispered so he wouldn’t wake her if she was asleep.
He felt her tense in his arms. Awake then.
“They were having an affair,” he said, admitting the worst. “Nina was going to tell my mother.”
She leaned up. He could see the questions in her eyes. But he cut off the doubts. “Nina was pregnant. She told me that night the baby was Samuel’s. That he would leave Vanessa and they’d have the baby and she’d make sure he’d cut us all off.”
Her eyes reminded him of the water outside, dark and shimmering with the moonlight. “You think it was Samuel in the car with her?”
“The fingerprints, yeah. They wouldn’t have any reason to compare his to the ones they found. Not unless they knew about the affair, and I didn’t volunteer the information. No way. I couldn’t do that to Gil, not with him in the hospital holding on by a thread. Samuel didn’t drink back then. He was…in control. A lot like Daniel, actually.”
He stroked her hair, liking the feel of it. She had amazing hair. Which went right along with all the other amazing things about her, like the fact that she’d never given up on the idea of being together, pushing this miracle of her into his arms.
“Nina was angry,” she said after a while. “She was going to use your family to hurt you because she was hurting.”
He nodded. “Nina wouldn’t have known about my mother and father. Samuel would never just walk out on Vanessa Moore. Even if he’d loved Nina, he lacks that kind of will. But I don’t think he loved her. I think she was part of his weakness, his idea that he deserved her—like my grandfather’s fortune. He took it in stride that it was his due. And if he lost it, so what? It was his, right? But Nina would be different. His best friend’s daughter—his son’s fiancée. Even my father could feel shame. And he’d be plenty worried about what would happen if word got out.”