The Caspian Wine Mystery/Suspense/Thriller Series

by Maggie Thom

  Tom Nelson - almost three years as Vineyard Manager

  She skimmed through these and the rest of the employees’ bios but nothing led her to believe that any of them were the kind of man she was looking for. The kind of man who had done what he had. She studied each of their faces, searching their eyes, but she didn’t recognize any of them—although she knew that seeing a picture and seeing someone in person were totally different. Somehow, she’d have to meet each of them. She started some background checks on every one of them.

  The reason she’d really gone there was bothering her like a woodpecker pecking at her skull. She reached into her right pocket to pull out the USB, only to realize it wasn’t there. She reached into her left one. When she came up empty she patted her front pockets and then her back ones. Frantically, she slapped at all her pockets and then shoved her hands in. What the heck?

  Suddenly she remembered where it was. Her head dropped backward as she clapped her hand over her mouth. It was in the pocket of the skirt she’d been planning to wear.

  What am I doing?

  Exhaustion rolled over her like a wave crashing on the shore. Wearily, she wiped her computer clean, shut it down and with one last thorough look around, she left. She closed and locked the office door before heading down the long set of steps, using her cell phone to light the darkened stairwell. When she was about halfway down, there was a loud bang outside. She flattened herself against the wall as she listened intently, having no clue what she’d do if someone came through that door. She stuffed her cell phone in her pocket.

  Five minutes later when nothing else happened, she made her way silently down the rest of the steps. Unlocking and then slowly opening the door she peered out before stepping through, closing and locking it behind her. She hadn’t taken two steps when she felt something sharp touch her neck, and at the same time an arm slid around her waist like a cinch that tightened with each movement.

  “You hold it right there or I’ll cut you. Give me all you’ve got. Your cell phone first.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “You scared the crap out of me. You had that man accost me. Then you casually stroll in here as though nothing has happened?”

  Graham stared at her. He knew if he opened his mouth, he’d deafen her with his tirade and he wouldn’t get the answers he needed.

  “You hired that guy to guard this place?”

  “Yeah, is that a problem?” He ground his teeth as he turned away from Tarin. Bill stood like a silent sentinel off to the side. Graham handed him the bag of new socks, he’d been carrying around in his Hummer for a few days. He watched as Bill’s blackened, aged fingers slowly wrapped around the offering before he shuffled off, disappearing around the side of the building. Once he was out of sight, Graham unlocked the door, gesturing for Tarin to precede him. Her thrust chin told him she wasn’t any happier than he was. He almost laughed because she had no idea what pissed was. But she would soon.

  Once inside his business, he went past her and into his office, looking at her expectantly as he held open the door. Some of the starch had gone out of her, her shoulders starting to slump in defeat but as soon as she caught him watching her, she squared them quickly. The look of resignation on her face was a little harder to hide though.

  “So, what? You let him hang out in your alley and you give him a few tokens of appreciation?” Her eyebrows drew together as she looked at him.

  He held her gaze without blinking. It probably looked bad him handing Bill that bag but he’d seen it when he’d gotten out of his Hummer and realized he’d forgotten again that day.

  “Okay, so I’ll presume you do the decent thing and at least give him clothes and food?”

  He sat down on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms.

  “Jesus, can’t you at least do something right and give him somewhere to live?”

  “You sure make a lot of assumptions, don’t you?”

  “Oh, so what? You’ve given him a room at the Hilton?”

  He shrugged.

  “You cheap, son-of-a-a-a—jerk. You’ve got money and yet you can’t even spare a little for a guy down on his luck. A homeless guy means nothing, does he? You rich men are all the same.” She spun around and was headed for the door, but it slammed shut before she reached it. She stopped suddenly. “Cute trick.”

  “I thought so. I can close it without leaving my desk. It keeps some people out and others from leaving before I’m done talking to them.” He tapped his fingers on his desk. “Never had to use it before, though.”

  “So now what?” She turned slowly to face him. The bravado was there in her voice and in her face but her drooped shoulders and the constant rubbing of her index finger told him she was unnerved.

  “So what were you doing here in the middle of the night?”

  There was a flicker in the depths of her hazel eyes but he wasn’t sure if it was fear or determination.

  “The truth? I needed to do something on the computer; something personal and I don’t have one.”

  “And you had to do it now, because?”

  “Because during the day, you’d haul me over the coals naked if I did that.”

  A clear image of her bare backside flashed through his mind. It was so intense that he had to either look away or let his eyes wander down her body. His thumbnail suddenly became very interesting. It took a moment but finally feeling a little more in control of his wayward thoughts, he walked around his desk and sat. He needed to put some distance between them. She seemed to take it as a sign and sat in the chair by Guy’s desk where Bailey often sat.

  “What the hell is your problem? You’re touchy. You lie—”

  “And you’re so darn arrogant; you think you’re something else. You may look as though you’re a pauper in your worn jeans, your tight t-shirts, riding your ten-speed everyday like some fit fanatic—”

  “You don’t even know me—”

  “And you don’t know—”

  “So what the hell are you hiding?”

  “None of your damn—”

  “It is my damn—”

  “Go take a flying—”

  He stood and his knees snapped back like a cadet coming to attention, hitting his chair and sending it spinning backward to slam into the wall. It had the effect of a judge slamming a gavel in a quiet courtroom. Both went utterly still. The silence that ensued was a throbbing presence that had its own pulse. Neither moved.

  “Sorry,” Graham said finally, resting his knuckles on his desk and letting his head hang there for a few seconds. When he felt as though he’d caught his breath, he looked at Tarin. She was sitting in the same spot. Her body was as still as a statue, her face expressionless, but she had tilted her head as though her flinch had frozen. Tension was emanating off her in waves, like the hot sun off asphalt on a scorching day.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. Actually I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I don’t normally use that kind of language.”

  “Uh—” He felt as though he’d done something terrible, only he wasn’t sure what that was. “Would you like something to drink?”

  She looked at him for the briefest of seconds before lowering her gaze. “Yes. Do you have any wine?”

  He blinked a couple of times. “No, but I do have some Jack Daniels. Will that do?”

  She gave a brief, abrupt nod. “I’m sorry for my behavior, it was uncalled for.”

  Her attention was focused on the floor but her posture was as rigid as the chair she sat in. He opened a cabinet in the corner of the room, pulling out a full bottle that had been a Christmas gift from a client. After retrieving two mugs from the outer office and some ice and bottled water for mix, he poured her a drink. The first one she downed before he’d barely poured his and had time to sit at his desk. She didn’t ask for another one but he knew she wanted seconds. The third and fourth ones, she helped herself to.

  She didn’t say a word so neither did he. It was like being out in nature with a tim
id animal he wanted to get close to, but he had to take his time and keep his movements slow and steady. The only problem was he didn’t know what to do with her or really how to approach her.

  “You know. I’m a damn good worker. Been working my butt off since... a long time. Yeah. A long time. I was little. But if I wanted to be seen, I had to work. Always work. Never fun.”

  Her speech was slurred, yet she was sitting ramrod straight. If he hadn’t known she’d drank so much booze in such a short period of time, he’d have been sure she was faking it.

  “You ever have fun? I mean as a kid.”

  “Yeah. I have brothers and sisters. So we got into lots of trouble. Did some crazy things. Played superheroes a lot.”

  “I wanted to be Cinderella. Well no, not her, the one in the tree with the long hair. You know Rap... or something. Her anyway. I wanted to let my hair down. Have fun you know. Party. Do girl things. And find me a man.” She laughed a sharp, huffing bark. Or at least that was what it sounded like to him. It was the most unnatural thing he’d ever heard.

  He poured her a glass of water as he thought about her desire to be the fairy tale character Rapunzel. Tarin took it and downed it.

  “Yuck. That tastes like crap.” She looked around. Spotting the bed in the corner, she obviously took it as an invitation, making her way over to climb into it. The next thing he knew, she was making the funniest cooing sounds he’d ever heard.

  Wondering what the heck had just happened, he looked around to make sure there wasn’t some camera recording and he was part of a gag. The snoring coming from the corner was the only thing that seemed real. He sat at his desk while watching the sleeping woman he’d hired just a short time ago.

  Unsure what to do, he turned on his computer. It was now 4:45. He glanced longingly at the occupied bed. If things had been different he’d have climbed onto it and gone to sleep. The person currently sleeping peacefully rolled over at that moment, giving him a great view of her blouse which molded to her nicely formed chest. The images that ran through his mind in quick succession were not ones he should be having—most definitely not ones about an employee.

  Getting up from his desk, he headed to her computer. After logging on, he checked through to see what she’d been doing. But like every day when she left work, her laptop was scrubbed clean as though she’d never been on it. He’d finally gotten a little smarter, though. Opening the hidden tracer he’d installed to track her movements, he flipped through what she’d been doing. He clicked on the website where she’d spent a fair amount of time. It was a membership site exclusively for women looking to change their lives. There was a lot of information about empowerment, standing on your own, standing up for themselves. Believe and your life can change. He flipped through all five pages; they were pretty basic. Not too much information. One had links to websites that helped women dealing with abuse, getting back on their feet, shelters, counselling. He knew that to really get any information he had to be a member. There was a place to sign up to receive monthly newsletters. Using an alias, he did just that.

  As he was finishing up, a kid’s song started playing. His head whipped around, his eyes wide before he realized it was coming from inside his office. He followed the source and soon discovered her cell phone tucked inside her jacket which she’d set on the chair. Tarin hadn’t and wasn’t moving. The number didn’t mean anything to him and he only debated for a short second as he realized that it could be her family before he answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Who is this?”

  “Who’s this?”

  “Where’s Tarin? I know I called the right number. Put her on. Now.”

  “I can’t. She’s sleeping.”

  “What? What did you do to her? And who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Graham.”

  “Oh, her boss.”

  “Yes, her boss.”

  “If you hurt her—”

  “What the hell kind of thing is that to say—?”

  “Well, it’s the middle of the night and you say she’s sleeping.”

  “She is. She drank too much whiskey—”

  “Since when does she drink that?”

  “How am I supposed to know? Look—”

  “No, you look. I don’t know what happened there and whether she’s all right—”

  “I’ll take a picture of her and send it to you if that will help but we’ll have to switch to my phone as hers I’m sure is locked.”

  “Swear to me she’s okay.”

  “I swear she’s fine. A little uptight and very drunk but other than that, fine.”

  “I know what she did was wrong but you can’t fire her. Promise me you won’t.”

  “Not your call. And what do you think she was doing that was so wrong?”

  Graham tried to get her to divulge some information but he got very little. Taking a chance, he hooked Tarin’s phone up to his computer to see what he could find. Five minutes later, he put her cell back where he’d found it. Someone was pissed at her. Rather than read all the texts, he copied them and decided he’d only broach the subject if she turned out to be doing something more devious. Exhaustion pulled at him with the force of a semi pushing against him. The thought of sleeping in his chair had him look longingly at the single bed Tarin was taking full advantage of. Sighing, he sat and leaned back, resting his feet on his desk. He tried not to think of the fact that the last time he’d slept like that it had taken several days to work the kinks out of his neck.

  He’d barely closed his eyes when he sensed movement or heard something. He wasn’t sure but it was enough to force open his weighted lids and peer at the blurred body tiptoeing across his floor.

  “You’re not leaving yet.”

  Her whole body jolted like a springboard and stopped suddenly as she whipped around to face him.

  “I already know I’m terminated. Let’s save the hoopla. I know I messed up. You know I messed up. Let’s leave it at that. I can dole out my own lumps.” She reached for the door handle.

  “God, you’re a pain. Do you ever let anyone make decisions—?”

  “Never again.” The viciousness with which she said those words was nothing compared to the gritted teeth and her rigid stance with clenched fists.

  He stepped back. His computer dinged. He’d set the alarm to wake him.

  “What time is it?”

  “7:00 a.m.”

  “Oh my god. Oh my god. Chance. He’s going to freak out. He’s going to freak out. Oh my god. I’m so in over my head. I’m dead.” She repeated that over and over as she grabbed her jacket she’d forgotten and raced out the door, leaving it wide open as she ran.

  He chased after her and yelled down the stairs to her. “Hey. I need you back at work. You can’t fire yourself. And I’m not firing you. So be here or I’ll come and get you. Be back Monday.”

  She stopped for a brief second with her hand on the doorknob but she didn’t look back. After a brief hesitation, she pulled it open and disappeared through it. Graham stared at it long after she’d gone.

  What the hell happened?

  ~~~~

  “Graham?”

  “Hi Mrs—Dorothea.”

  She laughed. “You’re getting it. I need your driving services again.”

  Graham made a funny face as he looked around his empty office and wondered why he had been chosen as her personal chauffeur—and what she was hiding that she needed his services.

  “Uh. Yeah. Sure. When?”

  “Now. Thank you. See you in an hour? I know most people take an hour and a half. Oh and if you’re going to bring that monstrous Hummer, please bring steps so I can get into it with dignity.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” He closed out the game he was playing, Kingdom of Amalur, and all the other things he had opened for work but hadn’t really touched. Once he’d shut everything down, he realized it wasn’t what he’d really wanted to be doing on a Sunday but it beat sitting in his office pretending to work o
r wondering what was going on with Tarin.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dorothea entered the beautiful Carina Hotel. It was one of her favorites and the first in the Cooper-Lite Hotel chain, not a hotel most people would have expected to see her in, though. It was an acceptable place but not in the league that someone of her stature would normally grace. In her younger days, she’d spent many an hour at the hotel. It was the first in a long chain that she and her husband Jonathon’s friend Calib—better known as Charles Cooper to his rivals—had built. In fact, he’d given them the first key to a room fifty years before, when she’d taken over the family winery business and he’d taken over the family hotel business. She still had it tucked away in her wall safe at home. It was symbolic now as all the locks had been changed and updated. Since then he’d given them a master card that could be used at any of their hotels. He had trusted them but she’d never before had an occasion to use it. This situation however required it.

  Old memories flooded back. She and Jonathon had been the first guests at this very hotel after Calib had purchased it. They had been young and so much in love. The world had been theirs. It saddened her to think her best friend and love had died so many years before and she’d stopped going there. That life had gotten in the way of old friendships.

  Walking up to the dark, ornately carved front desk, she handed her key to the man, letting him know there was a code on the back. As a professional, he did quite well at remaining jovially stone-faced, his eyebrows only lifting slightly. A minute later, she had a programmed card that would let her access any room in the hotel; but she only needed to access one.

  The elevators were to the right and around the corner. She made her way to an empty one, slid her card into the slot and the doors closed. She hit the button for the seventh floor. At some point on the brief ride up, it dawned on her that she could be doing something very foolish. It had been a long time since she’d done anything this rash but somewhere in her gut, she knew there was some truth to what the woman had told her. There had definitely been enough information to pique her interest. Leaning heavily on her cane for a moment, she let her years get the best of her. The weight of all she’d been living under weighed in, drooping her shoulders even more than the normal age-related slouch.