walks away from a murder.”
Eli twirled his finger next to his temple. “Luce, that woman has bird bones. I could feel them when I helped her to that chair. She’d probably have a tough time squashing a cockroach.”
“We’re talking about almost thirty years ago. She could have shot him and then persuaded Leland to drive down to Richmond to help her dispose of the body.”
“Right. So he goes to Richmond and then drives an hour and a half to Atoka with a dead body in the trunk of his car so he can bury Beau right here in his own backyard instead of dumping him in the James River or some landfill. Come on, babe.”
He had a point. Still, if Annabel lied about her relationship with Leland, she could be covering up other things.
“She’s a woman scorned, Eli. And now she gets the ultimate revenge. Pinning a murder she committed on her ex-lover.”
“Prove it.”
“Whose side are you on?”
He sighed. “You know whose side I’m on. But there’s no way you’re going to get her to admit what she did, if she did it, and Bobby has closed the case. Three strikes and you’re out.”
Eli handed me the water bottle. “Here. Drink this and cool off. Even if you’re right and she is a woman scorned, that means she’s mad and dangerous. You can’t stop her. Believe me, I ought to know. Brandi plans to clean my clock.”
I felt sorry for him, but I was determined to get Annabel to admit she’d lied. Too bad I wasn’t sure how to do it. Yet.
I stayed in our booth for the rest of the day, working alongside Gina. She wasn’t kidding about business booming, and it looked like we were on track to break last weekend’s sales record. Frankie and I went over the receipts in my office at the end of the day. When we were done, she whooped with glee.
“This is amazing.” She pounded her fist on my desk, emphasizing each word and laughed. “You know we’re going to completely sell out of our Riesling by tomorrow, don’t you? It’s flying out the door it’s so good.”
I sat back in my chair. “I hadn’t realized we were that low. Hold back a few cases, will you? We’ve got problems with this year’s wine.”
“What problems?” She straightened the receipts and credit card statements into a neat pile.
“It’s not fermenting.”
“Why not?”
“Quinn doesn’t know why not. Or didn’t, last time we talked.” I glanced at the wall clock. Six fifteen. “He hasn’t called since noon. I think I’ll head over to the barrel room.”
“You two kiss and make up yet after yesterday?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She rolled her eyes. “For an intelligent woman, sometimes you can be so dense I swear light bends around you.”
“You may want to rethink that compliment seeing as I pay your salary.”
“Sticks and stones.” She picked up the receipts. “Go see him and straighten things out. It’s no fun around here when you lovebirds have one of your tiffs.”
Quinn was sitting in the same place I’d found him this morning—a chair at the winemaker’s table—but now his head was resting on his forearms and he was asleep. He didn’t stir when I pulled out a chair and sat next to him, moving the empty beer bottle he clutched in one hand out of his grasp.
His hair was longer than it had been in recent months—maybe a deliberate decision or maybe just too preoccupied with everything going wrong at the winery to get it cut. It curled in long tendrils down the collar of one of his oldest Hawaiian shirts, the one with the burgundy background and acid-green palm fronds. His head was turned so he faced me and, in profile, his sharp, well-chiseled angles reminded me of a relief on a coin. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and even the eye without the shiner had dark hollows under it, like another bruise.
“Just how long do you plan to sit there watching me?”
I jumped. “Don’t do that! You scared the wits out of me. Don’t tell me you’ve been awake the whole time I was here?”
He opened his good eye. “Yup.”
“You could have said something.”
He sat up. “It was more fun to watch you.”
“You had your eyes closed. Or it looked like you did.”
“Not entirely.”
“Frankie says it hasn’t gone unnoticed that we’re not on the best terms.”
“Nothing gets past Frankie. A wise and astute woman.”
I folded my arms. “Then let’s get this settled.”
“Sure. If you want to apologize, I’ll accept.”
“Me? Apologize for
“Not trusting me.”
“How about you brawling with Chance? You going to apologize for that?”
“He had it coming.” He held up his hand. “Wait, wait…hold it right there. We wouldn’t even be arguing right now if it weren’t for him. He set this up, Lucie. He wanted you to doubt me, wonder about me, and you bought it.”
“I do trust you,” I said. “I think Chance may have skimmed money from our crew. That’s why we always got guys with zero experience. Because we weren’t paying the going rate. Javier’s going to try to find some of the men who picked for us yesterday. See if they’ll tell him how much they got paid.”
Quinn slammed his hand on the table so hard I jumped again. “If I’d known that yesterday, he wouldn’t have walked out of here. They’d be carrying him on a stretcher.”
“Don’t go there.”
“I wish I had. He deserved it,” he said. “Apology accepted.”
I glared at him.
“And now on a completely different subject,” he said, “fermentation has started.”
“That’s nice.”
“Glad you’re so excited. It’s better than nice, but not by much. It’s going slower than it ought to. I need to keep an eye on it, but at least we have ignition.”
“That’s nice, too.”
He glanced at his watch. “You eaten dinner yet?”
“No.”
“How about Chinese? We can order in.”
“Here? When’s the last time you left this place?”
He paused to consider.
“It’s Saturday,” I said. “I bet you’ve been here since we picked on Thursday.”
“You could be right. All right, let’s eat at my place.”
“Why don’t you go home and take a shower and clean up? I’ll order the Chinese. We’ll eat at my house.”
“One, are you implying that I smell bad? And two, what’s wrong with eating at my house?”
“Forgive me, but one, I’d like to use bug spray on you right now, and two, I don’t want to eat out of the boxes with my fingers. Do you even own any dishes or silverware? More than one of anything, that is?”
“When I moved here from my cave in California, I did bring a few hollowed out gourds and some bones and spears.”
“See you at my place in, say, forty-five minutes. Any preferences or do you trust me to order?”
“Something that’ll set my mouth on fire. Why don’t we have dinner at the summerhouse? We could watch the Perseids.”
Quinn’s interest in astronomy—and the massive amount of information he knew about stars, comets, the
