“By this time next year, I’ll be conversant in all things grape. Types, soil requirements, pests-I will positively dazzle you with my knowledge.”
“I’m looking forward to being dazzled.”
He took off the heavy gloves he’d been wearing to weed out the worst of the overgrowth, and walked to the end of the row.
“Are you sure you won’t miss the excitement of law enforcement?” She watched him approach, her hands on her hips.
“I’ve had about all the excitement from that quarter that one lifetime can handle, thanks.”
“Even though the FBI’s still after you to re-up?”
“They’re wasting their time. I keep telling them that I’ll never go back. I don’t know what more I can say.” He took another drink from the bottle.
“Maybe someday you’ll trust me enough to tell me about that,” she said softly.
“What do you want to know?”
“What happened to make you lose confidence in yourself?”
“Oh. That. That’s an easy one,” he said matter-of-factly. “Teddy Kershaw. Lakeview, Georgia.”
“Who’s Teddy Kershaw?”
“Was,” he said with emphasis. “Who was Teddy Kershaw is the question.”
“Okay. Who was he?”
“He was a serial killer. I’d been asked to develop a profile for the local PD. Which I did.” He stared at the ground.
“And?”
“And it was dead wrong. Well, not completely wrong. It was right, for the most part. I just got the most immediate part wrong.”
“Which was?”
“I told the cops the perp had to be Caucasian. All the vics had been white-white victims, white killer. Everybody knows that serial killers only target victims within their own race.” He shook his head. “How arrogant on my part, eh? Like I knew it all.”
“What happened?”
“Well, when the cops got a report of a man who’d been seen hanging around the neighborhood of three of the victims, I told them not to waste their time. ‘The guy described by the neighbors is African-American. Our serial killer is Caucasian.’ ”
He scuffed at the ground with the toe of his shoe, kicked a clod of dirt aside.
“So, armed with the gospel according to Saint Thomas Dawson, the Lakeview cops ignore the calls and keep on looking for this theoretical white killer. Three more women died before they caught Teddy. A black man. The same black man the cops had been alerted to ten days before.”
T.J.’s face had gone white under his tan. “Does that answer your question?”
“How many times had you been right?”
He brushed her off. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that my know-it-all attitude cost three women their lives.”
“I’m sure you didn’t-”
“Didn’t mean to screw up? Tell that to the families of those three women.”
“T.J., I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life. But I’ll never go back to the Bureau. I don’t even know why they’d want me.”
“Mitch says you’re really good.”
“Mitch is my friend. He has to say that.” He took one more drink, draining the bottle, then pitched it in the direction of the weed pile. “The bottom line is, I was responsible for the loss of innocent lives. I can’t change that, no matter how many times I wish I could go back to the moment I told the cops to ignore the reports. I have to live with that. But I won’t go back to the Bureau. I can find something else to do with my life.” He paused. “I have found something else to do with my life, and I like it. I like the physical work, I like the idea of growing something good, making something people will enjoy. That the end result of my hard work will be something tangible. I like that we’re doing this, the four of us.”
“I don’t know how much time the other two will have to devote to it after awhile. Mostly it’s going to be you and me.”
“Even better.” He smiled. Then, changing the subject, he asked, “How long do you think you’ll be in Woodboro?”
“Four days, at the most. I need to get back here as soon as possible. Remember, my brother will be coming home next week for the first time in years. I want to make sure the house is in order.”
“If there’s anything you want me to do while you’re gone, just say the word.”
“I will, thanks. It’ll be interesting to see how Rob feels, now that Mike Keeler is in jail and he doesn’t have that weight of secrecy around his neck. When I spoke with him the other night, he sounded really happy to be coming back. So I’d like his room freshened, that sort of thing. I can save some of the packing at my apartment for another trip, but I can’t put off the meetings I’ve set up with my clients. I need to tell them about the change in address and assure them that the service will remain the same high quality as always.”
“You’ll let me know if you need help packing things?”
“I should be fine on that score. My friend Bonnie will be over to help me sort through stuff and pack up the car. What furniture I don’t sell, I can have brought back by a small moving van. I don’t expect any problems.” She sighed. “You know, when I left here, I never thought I’d want to come back to live. Then after I got home, I didn’t want to leave. In spite of all the craziness-the bodies in the field, being shot at in the wine cellar, almost killed-I realized this really is my home. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live anywhere else.”
“Funny, I’m starting to feel the same way.” He kissed the side of her mouth.
“I know you can do better than that, Dawson.”
He laughed and kissed her again, keeping her at arm’s length.
“Like you said,” he pointed out, “I am one tall, sweaty man. But I do clean up real good.”
“Well, clean up later, because Regan and Mitch will be along any minute. They’re both looking forward to working in the vineyard this weekend. I told Regan it was dirty work and there were thorns and bugs everywhere, but she said, ‘Cool. I can’t wait.’ ”
“We’ll see how long she lasts.”
“Don’t underestimate her. She’s a tough cookie. I could tell you some stories…”
The sound of a car door slamming near the barn drew their attention.
“I guess they’re here,” T.J. said. “Were they driving up together?”
“I don’t…” Lorna watched a dark-haired woman get out of the car and look around. “That’s not Regan. I’ll go see.”
As soon as Lorna got within fifty feet of the car, she knew exactly who her visitor was.
She stopped dead in her tracks and stared.
Melinda Eagan had grown tall and willowy, and was quite stylish in black pants and a short-sleeved white top. She had gold at her ears and on her wrists, and a gold and diamond wedding set on the ring finger of her left hand.