“Treven?” Alex started to stand. “What are you-”
“Shut up. Stay exactly where you are.”
She froze. Heart thundering, she struggled to breathe evenly, think clearly. She wanted to look at Rachel but was afraid of what he might do if she did.
“Do you have any idea how sick I am of you?” He readjusted his grip on Rachel. Alex used the moment to peek at the other woman. She looked terrified. “I never should have gotten involved with your mother. Of course, I didn’t know what a complete whack job she was.”
Treven was her father. The family resemblance. The baby brush.
He smiled at her expression. “Shocking, isn’t it? Our plan was perfect. She would marry my brother, then break his heart. All the while remaining my mistress.”
“Why?” she asked. “What did you hope to gain-”
“It would hurt him,” he said simply, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.
He hated his brother that much, Alex realized, shuddering. Her mother had been right to run.
“Problem was,” he went on, “she fell in love with the twerp, then gave him a son.”
“But it all turned out much better, didn’t it?” Rachel managed, voice tight with fury. “You were able to completely destroy him by killing his son.”
“You,” he said with a sound of regret, “I’m going to miss. You are an excellent winemaker. Clark, on the other hand, brought nothing special to the party.”
“You’re completely evil.”
He laughed. “Perhaps. Let’s get on with this thing.”
“Wait!” Rachel said, struggling to find her voice. “That night, Dylan, how-”
“I bashed his head in,” he said so matter-of-factly Alex’s blood ran cold. “It was so perfect. I was able to swoop in and save the day. Take over the business for poor, devastated Harlan. The way it should have been all along.” His voice hardened. “It should have been mine. I’m the oldest son! Me!”
Rachel struggled and he tightened his grip. “That’s what I want you to do. Fight me. Make it look good. After all, you killed Clark. Then Alex. I tried to stop you-”
“No one will believe you!”
“You’re crazy, Rachel. The rape left you unbalanced. You hid it all these years. Until poor little Dylan was dug up-”
The fire alarm’s piercing shriek rent the air. It mingled with the sound of a shot going off. Alex launched to her feet; a searing pain speared through her.
The office door burst open. Harlan charged through, swinging a wine bottle.
A wine bottle? Alex thought, light-headed. She brought a hand to her side; it came back wet. And red. She fell to her knees. As if from a great distance, she heard the wail of sirens.
“Alex! No!”
Rachel. Holding her. Crying.
The thunder of feet. Voices. Shouting.
“Jesus! Somebody! Get the EMTs-”
“On their way.”
“Hold on, sweetheart.”
Reed. She opened her eyes. He came into focus. She tried to tell him not to worry, but the words came out a jumble.
He leaned close. “Hang in there, baby. It’s going to be all right. You’re going to be just fine. I promise…”
Alex smiled and closed her eyes, serenity flowing over her. She believed him.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
Thursday, March 18
11:10 A.M.
Alex opened her eyes. She hurt. Her mouth was dry, her limbs heavy.
“Hello, dear. Welcome back.”
A woman came into focus. A nurse. The room followed. A hospital room. IV. Monitors. Flowers.
She returned her gaze to the nurse. “Was I dead?”
The woman chuckled. “Luckily, not even close. How about a sip of water?”
“Yes, please-”
“I’ll take care of that.”
Alex turned her head. Rachel stood in the doorway, equally weighted by a vase of flowers cradled in one arm, a bottle of wine in the other.
Alex managed a weak smile. “Can’t drink while I’m on pain meds.”
“But you won’t be on them forever.” She strolled into the room, exchanging a glance with the nurse as the woman slipped out. “Besides,” she said, setting the bottle on the bedside table, “you lay this baby up, it’ll only get better.”
Alex shook her head, thinking how much she liked her. Cousins, she thought. Amazing. And despite everything that had happened, wonderful.
She found the remote and raised herself up to a forty-five-degree angle. “Treven shot me.”
“He did.” Rachel held the cup of water and straw to her lips. “Could have been a lot worse, if not for Dad’s quick thinking. I’m so proud of him.”
Alex took another sip, then lay back against the pillows, exhausted.
“Reed had called him. Asked him to check on me.” She pulled the chair over and plopped onto it. “He saw the lights on in the winery and went to investigate.”
Her voice thickened. “He heard it all, Alex.”
Alex reached out her hand. Rachel grasped it. For a long moment, they sat that way. Lost in their own thoughts, drawing comfort from the other. At least Alex knew she was.
“We need to talk,” Rachel said finally.
“Am I up to this?”
“I hope so.” She freed her hand from Alex’s, then immediately looked sorry she had. Instead, she folded both hands in her lap. “I did some things I’m not proud of. Things I hope you can forgive me for. I didn’t do them to hurt you, you have to believe me… I just wanted to… stir things up. Make them, the ones who raped me, nervous. I wanted them, and Dylan’s murderer, to know that their secrets weren’t going to stay buried forever.”
“And you needed my help?”
She looked away, then back. “Yes.”
“You scrawled Remember on my bathroom mirror.”
“Yes.”
“And you butchered those baby dolls.”
“Yes.”
“The lamb?”
“Not me. That one… my guess is Clark or Treven. In the hopes of scaring you off.”
“We’ll never know for sure, will we?”
“Actually, we just might.” At Alex’s expression, she grinned. “Clark’s alive.”
“That’s not… How… I checked his pulse.”
“Not well enough, apparently.” She leaned forward. “The bad news is, I’m a lousy shot. The good news, I didn’t kill anybody. Our family lawyer’s hooking me up with a top criminal attorney. He thinks that, considering the circumstances, I won’t be charged.”
“What about Treven?”
“In jail. Charged with the murder of Dylan Sommer.”
“Am I interrupting?”
Harlan stood in the doorway, also carrying wine and flowers. She had to laugh, though when she did it really hurt.
When she was done grimacing, Alex waved him in. “Of course not.”
He crossed to the bed, deposited his gifts, then hugged his daughter. “I’m so glad I still have you,” he said.
He turned toward Alex. His eyes, she saw, were wet. “And you, too, Alexandra.”
“Our hero,” Rachel said. “But Dad,” she said, “what were you thinking? It was a 2000 Stag’s Pass Reserve. A magnum of it.”
“You’re worth it. Both of you.”
Rachel smiled and kissed his cheek. “Enough crazy talk from you.”
He bent and pressed his lips to Alex’s forehead. “Thank you. I finally know… It’s almost unbearable to think about, but at least-”
He choked on the words and Alex grabbed his hand. “I know,” she whispered. “I feel the same way.”
He squeezed her hand. “When you’re better, let’s talk. I’d like you to come work for us. After all, it is a family winery.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
Monday, May 3
5:45 P.M.
Good men were like pennies from heaven, Alex thought, falling against Reed’s chest, totally spent. And she had found the best one of all.
She pressed her lips to his shoulder, then neck, loving the feel of his heartbeat against her breast, the stirring of his breath against her ear. But most of all, she loved the way he gave himself to her. Wholly and without doubts.