Jose frowned. “I thought Antonio paid that off.”
Trina shook her head. “No, Jose. He couldn’t pay it off because there was no money left after you maxed out your credit card and bought your fancy Cadillac on the company account.”
Jose shrugged. “You’ll get paid back pennies on the dollar if the bank forecloses, Trina. Can’t you talk some sense into Antonio?”
“Don’t have to,” Trina said. “The bank isn’t the only one with a lien on the winery. My secured loan is second in line, also with the winery pledged as collateral.”
“So what? The bank gets it first.”
“Not if I give Antonio money to get the mortgage payments up to date. Then the bank can’t foreclose. I, on the other hand, can freeze everything. I’ll make you a deal, Jose. Sell the winery to Antonio under the same terms as Desiree’s deal, and you can walk away.”
Jose’s mouth dropped open. “But the winery’s worth so much—”
Trina finished his sentence. “The winery’s worth so much more than the offer you were trying to convince Antonio to take? Is that what you’re saying? You were fine with that price before.”
“I-I don’t know…” Jose stammered.
Trina ripped the papers in half and dropped them on the table. “It’s now or never. You already know that Antonio will never agree to sell to Desiree. My offer expires in one minute.”
“Fine! I’ll take it,” Jose cried. “I can’t wait to be free of this place.”
Tyler stepped down from the stage and made his way toward the two brothers. “Not so fast. We’ve got some unfinished business to take care of.”
Chapter 28
Jose shook his head. “I’m done for the night. I’ll call you tomorrow, Sheriff.”
“No time like the present,” said Tyler. He stood directly in front of Jose, blocking his exit. “Everybody okay if we settle this now?”
The crowd murmured their assent and then the room went completely silent.
Tyler cleared his throat. “It’s bad enough that you had it in for Richard Harcourt but framing your brother? That is downright despicable, Jose.”
“I’m not involved in any of this. I wasn’t even in town,” Jose protested. He pulled a thick wad of papers from his shirt pocket and waved it in the air. “I was outside of Sacramento, delivering all these wine orders when Trina called and told me that Richard had been found dead.”
“Did you actually make any of the deliveries?” Tyler asked.
Jose shook his head. “No, because Trina called me and said to come back right away.”
“A practical person would have delivered the wine after driving what—15 hours? You were already there. Instead you returned home?”
“I was in shock, Sheriff. It’s not everyday you find out that your brother stabbed someone to death.”
“I never told anyone the cause of death, Jose. How is it that you knew Richard was stabbed?”
Jose gave a nervous laugh. “Trina told me that when she called.”
Trina waved her hand in protest. “No, I didn’t. Nobody told me how he died. I never saw Richard’s body either.”
“I-I don’t know then,” Jose stammered. “I guess I sort of visualized it. I knew it happened in the wine cellar and Antonio doesn’t have a gun…”
“One thing that puzzles me, Jose,” Tyler said. “Even if you were in Sacramento this morning like you say you were, based on the time Trina called, you couldn’t have made the return trip in time to be back here right now. The reason you’re here is because you never went to California. You never even left Washington state, did you? In fact, you never even left the county.”
“Of course, I did. I loaded up the wine yesterday afternoon right after Richard and I met with Antonio. I was on the highway within the hour.” Jose pulled a credit card receipt from his jeans pocket and handed it to Tyler. “Here’s proof—a gas station receipt from Bend, Oregon.”
Tyler studied the receipt. “Oh, you’re right… I see that you actually were in Oregon and got gas just before midnight on Friday night. This receipt proves that. Sacramento’s another eight or nine hours away. That makes sense. My mistake.”
Jose’s expression turned smug. “That’s right. Trina called me around 10 a.m., I think.”
“That’s when you turned around to come back here?” Tyler asked.
Jose nodded.
“Jose, it’s a fifteen-hour drive from Sacramento to here. What did you do, fly?”
“I-I admit I was speeding, Sheriff. I was in a state of shock.”
“10 a.m., 11, 12…” Tyler counted the hours on his fingers. “If you really left at 10 a.m., I wouldn’t expect to see you here until around 1 a.m. You must have been going pretty fast to cut four or five hours off the usual travel time. Your timeline doesn’t make sense.”
“Uh…well, actually I was a bit north of Sacramento. Sorry for not being more specific. I’m exhausted from driving nonstop.” Jose looked toward the door. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
“I think we should talk about this now,” Tyler said. “I’ve got your credit card transactions putting you at The Shady Creek Inn last night. Were you in two places at once?”
“Of course not. It must be another Jose Lombard, a case of mistaken identity.”
Tyler shook his head. “The hotel surveillance shows you leaving the hotel around 3 a.m. early this morning, wearing dark clothes and carrying a gym bag. You got in a white truck, one that looks awfully similar to Antonio’s, I might add, and drove out of the parking lot.”
“I don’t own a white truck. I told you—it’s somebody else.” Jose’s words came in short bursts, as if he was trying to catch his breath.
“No, it’s definitely you.” Tyler’s voice was calm and measured. “You didn’t return to the hotel until after 9 am, but when you did, your face is clearly recognizable on the security camera. And you came back wearing different clothes and without the gym bag you had left with. The clothes you wore were fresh, without blood or evidence from the murder scene. Where did you throw away your bloody clothes, Jose?”
“What? I didn’t—there must be some
