3 Savor (22 page)

“I believe you, Carl. And I don’t
think your uncle wants any publicity so I’m sure he’ll capitulate without too
much trouble.”

“Does Handel know?” he asked, his
dark brows drawn tight across the bridge of his nose.

“Not yet.” She smiled up at him. “I
know Handel. He’s not going to blame you for any of this. You two have always
been like brothers. There’s no reason that has to change,” she said, hoping
that were true.

“I should never have listened to my
uncle. He tried to turn me against…” he stopped and closed his eyes, shook his
head. “He is a sick man. I understand that. But I will inform my family in
Italia of what he has done and there will be repercussions for him. Believe
me.”

•••••

Billie spotted Ernesto and Javier
crouched down in a row of Riesling, examining some low hanging clusters. Ernesto
was instructing the young man, speaking Spanish so quickly she had no idea what
he was saying. They obviously didn’t hear her approach because they both jumped
up, startled.

“I’m been looking for you two,” she
said, trying to appear non-confrontational even though that’s exactly what she
planned, to confront Javier about the fire – and other things. “Could you
guys come to the conference room with me? I ordered a pizza for lunch. It
should be there by now.” She pooched out her bottom lip and blew a stream of
air up through her bangs. “This heat is killing me.”

Ernesto put a hand on Javier’s
shoulder as though he sensed the kid was thinking about running. “Sí. We’re
hungry and we have some things to speak with you about too, Miss Fredrickson.”

Javier’s scowl was not as
pronounced today, but he still didn’t look as though he wished to discuss
anything with the woman who had thrown him out of his free digs and got him in
trouble with Ernesto.

They walked back together, Billie
keeping up a constant patter of small talk to set them at ease, but it seemed
to be having the opposite effect on all of them. When they trooped past Sally’s
desk toward the conference room, her brows rose in surprise.

“Has the pizza come yet?” Billie
asked.

Sally shook her head, craning her
neck to see into the room where Javier and Ernesto were already seated at the
table, waiting.

“When it gets here, let me know.
We’re having a vineyard management meeting,” she clarified, so Sally wouldn’t
invite the rest of the employees to free lunch.

She entered the conference room and
shut the door. Ernesto was leaning over whispering something to Javier, but he
straightened up immediately and pulled the cap from his head.

She smiled. “No need for
formality,” she said, sitting across the table from the two men. “I asked you
here to discuss recent events at the winery.” She held Ernesto’s fearful gaze.
“I owe you an apology. I’m truly sorry for accusing you of having anything
whatsoever to do with the fire. I know you were only trying to help your cousin’s
son. Family ties are important and we all need them.”

He seemed embarrassed at her
apology and tried to wave it off. “You were worried about the vines.”

“I think you were more worried
about the vines,” she said, “and I thank you.”

She looked at Javier. He tried to
avoid her gaze by staring hard at something just above her left shoulder. “I do
hold you accountable, though. Ernesto offered you help and you turned around
and tried to destroy the respect he’s built with us here.”

“I never did anything to hurt
Ernesto,” he spit out, glaring daggers at her now. “I wanted to be left alone,
to start a new life, but they wouldn’t let me.”

Ernesto intervened, twisting his
sweat-stained cap in his hands. “The gang is blackmailing Javier to do these
things. He is a good boy. He didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he said, his gaze
pleading.

Why would the gang blackmail him?
That made no sense. If the gang didn’t want him to leave, they would force him
back or kill him. Adam’s theory seemed closer to the truth. She looked at
Javier. He sat stoically, arms crossed, staring at the tabletop. “What’s your
last name?” she asked.

He seemed surprised by her question
but just smirked.

“Javier Tabares Hernandez,” Ernesto
said, filling the silence.

She knew that the first surname would
be from the father and the second from the mother, so he could very well be the
JT in Salvatore’s text messages. “Why don’t you tell us both the truth this
time, JT.”

Ernesto looked confused. “Javier?
You lied to me?”

He looked up at her. “I didn’t want
to do any of it. He said to scare you. Make you think someone wanted you dead.
If I didn’t do it he would let the Maras know where I was and tell them I was
double-crossing them with Las Boyz. That is a death sentence in my world.”

“I don’t want to get you killed,”
she said. “I only want the truth. Did Edoardo Salvatore pay you to do these
things?”

The confusion in his face should
have been answer enough but he shook his head. “Who?”

•••••

When Ernesto and Javier left the
conference room, Billie sat back in her chair and shook her head. She had hoped
to get proof against Edoardo Salvatore that would keep him away from Margaret
and Davy permanently, but instead she’d just solved Handel’s murder case.

She slipped her cell phone out of
her pocket and dialed.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” Handel
asked. He sounded distracted.

“Remember how you said you believe
in gut feelings?”

“Yeah.”

“I talked to Javier and my gut
feeling is that the same person who hired him to shoot at me and burn my shed,
also killed Jimena.”

“He gave you a name?”

“And much more.”

•••••

Billie was relieved when she looked
up from replanting the flowerbeds outside the winery and saw her BMW pull up to
the house and stop outside the garage. She stood and dusted her hands on the
legs of her navy shorts. Sabrina stepped out of the car looking just as vibrant
and put-together as she always did. She wore a pretty new blue and white
sundress that Billie didn’t recognize.

She waved. “Hey, Mom!”

Sabrina turned her way and smiled.
“Hey yourself,” she said.

Billie hurried over and gave her a
hug. “How many times do I have to tell you not to get into a private jet with a
perfect stranger?”

Her mother hugged back a little
tighter than usual before releasing her. “Once is all it takes for this old
girl,” she said, swinging her purse to her shoulder. “Although I have to say,
the reclining seats were heavenly.”

They went inside and Sabrina gave
Handel and Billie a recap of her Honolulu adventure, ending with a heartfelt
apology to Billie for not trusting her opinion. “Admittedly, I was hearing his
accent more than his actual words,” she said, with a slight flush of
embarrassment. She crossed her legs and leaned her head back on the couch.

“Did he take it out on you on the
flight home?” Billie asked, fearful her mother may have paid a little too
dearly for the truth.

Sabrina stifled a yawn and shook
her head. “He was too busy drinking all the liquor on board. Once we took off
he was ensconced in his private sleeping quarters with the flight attendant to
serve him… whatever,” she said with a flutter of French manicured nails.

“That must have been awful,” Billie
commiserated.

“Actually, it was bliss. I was able
to travel in style and didn’t have to continually think up new ways to keep him
at bay.”

Handel chuckled. “Sabrina, you
never cease to amaze me. If it wasn’t for your finding those texts Margaret
could have been in a serious accident.”

“I guess God was looking out for us
this round,” Billie said.

“Honey, God is always looking out
for us. Sometimes we just have our eyes shut so tight we don’t see it.”

“One bad guy down, another to go,”
Handel got up from his easy chair, bent to kiss Sabrina’s cheek, then pulled
Billie to her feet and kissed her firmly on the lips. “Wish me luck,” he said,
moving toward his office. “Tomorrow’s the big day. Court is in session and the
Honorable Veronica Matthews is expecting wonderful things from me after this
long continuance.”

“We’re all expecting wonderful
things, Handy!” Billie called after him.

Sabrina stretched out on the couch
and sighed. “I’m so glad I picked that man for you. He’s as perfect as a sunny
day in May.”

Billie just smiled.

Handel got off the phone with Frank
and leaned back in his desk chair, hands laced behind his head. Lucky for him
his new friend had a nephew who was a detective in the Mission district. The
police had been close mouthed with him about the evidence they’d found in
Hosea’s house, not allowing him access to any information that might help him
in his own case. They kept saying it was an ongoing investigation, blah, blah,
blah. He knew the spiel. He’d used similar tactics in his own office. Sometimes
it took a brother in blue to oil the wheels.

His phone rang again. He picked up.
“Hey, Manny. What do you have for me?”

“I heard Hosea Garcia was shot,” he
said, shock softening his voice.

“Yeah, I heard.” He waited.

“I never told you, but my sister
was planning to run away with him before she was killed. I talked her out of it
of course. That would be crazy, right? To run off with a drug addict when you
have a perfect life already. Sometimes I think she was uncomfortable being
rich. We grew up with so little and then she meets this man who never runs out
of roses.”

Handel thought that was a strange
way to describe her marriage to Sloane. But maybe that’s what Jimena told him.
He didn’t say anything, waiting for Manny to finish.

“I don’t know how Jimena hooked up
with him. She hadn’t seen him since we were kids. I kept her away from that
life. Sheltered her and Momma.” He sounded angry at the circumstances and
Handel didn’t blame him. A man was born to protect his family.

“You can’t stop people from making
unwise decisions. You can only be there for them when they fall,” Handel said,
staring at the row of books on his shelf. He got up and straightened them as he
talked. “Maybe your sister was trying to be there for Hosea but it turned out
all wrong.”

“Yeah, you could be right. He was a
dangerous man. He could have lost it when she told him it was over.” He sniffed
loudly. “I should have been there to stop him.”

It wasn’t exactly what Handel
meant, but Manny had taken the conversation to an interesting place. Only two
people knew what really happened that night and Hosea wasn’t talking.

“Maybe it wasn’t Hosea,” Handel
said. “What if Kawasaki did kill your sister because he found out about the
affair?”

His response was sharp and
immediate. “I know Sloane. He would never hurt my sister, no matter what. Did
Hosea tell you that?”

“No, I was just speculating. You’re
her brother. Don’t you want the truth to come out, no matter who is
responsible? Your sister deserves justice, doesn’t she?” He narrowed his eyes,
squinting down the line of books to see if the spines were all evenly lined up.

“I thought you were defending
Sloane because you believed him. What’s changed your mind?”

“Hosea called me again before he
was shot.”

No response. Just traffic noise in
the background. Where was Manny going?

“He said he had something for me.
Some piece of evidence that would point directly to the killer,” he lied. “I
was going to pick it up, but the police locked the crime scene down and now I
can’t get to it.”

“In his house?”

“Outside in an old van. It looked
like a junker. I doubt it even runs. He said he put it in the glove box so I
could retrieve it after he left town.”

“He was probably lying,” Manny
said. “Just pulling your chain.”

“Yeah, well I guess we may never
know. The police are assuming this was a gang hit. By the time I get them to
issue a warrant to look there, who knows what will happen. Someone will
probably have it towed away.”

Thumping music filled the
background for a couple seconds. “I better go. Traffic’s really bad. Don’t want
to get in an accident like you, huh?”

“I don’t blame you. Drive safe
now.”

A car horn blared. “See you in
court.”

Handel set his phone down and
pushed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Truth, justice, and the
American way,” he said and felt a little bit like Superman.

•••••

An hour later, the police picked
Manny up going through the van. He told them he was working for Handel. They
took him downtown and put him in a cell while they served warrants on his
apartment, office, and vehicle. Tucked away in his office safe, they found over
fifty thousand dollars, his mother’s rosary beads and a lock of hair covered in
dried blood kept safely contained in a Ziploc bag. He obviously had guilt
issues.

Frank called Handel to report the
news. His nephew had been one of the detectives on the case and after getting
credit for solving two murders, was feeling overly generous at the moment. He
told Frank to give Handel the news and a big kiss. Frank chose to call instead
of coming in person.

“So when they presented him with
the evidence they had on him for Garcia’s murder, he fell apart and confessed
to his sister’s as well.”

“No kidding,” Handel said, shaking
his head. It was more than he’d hoped for. As soon as the courthouse opened in
the morning he would be filing papers for a dismissal in the case against
Sloane Kawasaki. That ought to give the media something to talk about for a
while. “What evidence did they have? Do you know?”

Frank hesitated. “Well, I really
shouldn’t say, but since I know you’ll keep it under your hat… Your friend
Hosea Garcia was more than a little paranoid. He taped all of his phone calls
and hid them under a floorboard in his bedroom. When the forensics team found
that, they found the mother lode. Seems the police may be able to close a few
other cases thanks to Mr. Garcia.”

Handel laughed. “That’s awesome,” he
said. Curiosity made him ask, “Did Manny say why he killed his sister?” He was
still trying to get his head around that. Guilt-ridden, Manny had left the gang
after his mother died and worked to get his sister through community college.
He felt responsible for Jimena even after she was married to Sloane. Why would
he turn on the one person he cared about most?

Frank cleared his throat. “Remember
that hypothetical phone tape you were talking about?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Mr. Alvarez happened to
mention something about aqua. Seems he couldn’t stay completely out of the
game. He was using one of Salvatore’s warehouses down near the dock for a meth
factory. They were cranking that stuff out faster than you can say holy crap.
Problem was, he wasn’t letting the Maras in on the deal.”

“He was working with the enemy?”

“Yep, Las Boyz.” Frank gave a short
laugh. “It all would’ve worked out fine too except for our Mr. Garcia’s
paranoid tendencies. He followed Manny one night and decided to get in on the
action. He was blackmailing your very upstanding private eye.”

Handel ran a hand through his hair
and sighed. “That’s what he meant when he said he just wanted the money so he
could take Jimena to Mexico.”

“Seems about right. But when he
came to the house to pick her up, Manny was there too. They got in a big
argument and Garcia decided to spill the beans. He told Jimena that her brother
was a drug dealer and she went berserk. Manny said she started screaming and
throwing things at him until he couldn’t take anymore. He hit her to shut her
up, but she fell against the corner of the glass coffee table and split her
head open.”

Handel grimaced at the thought.
He’d seen the crime photos. It wasn’t pretty.

Frank continued. “When he realized
she was dead he went a little berserk too. He knocked Garcia out with one
punch. Then overcome with grief, he cut a chunk of her hair and took it with
him. For remembrance or some shit. What a nutball,” he said, with caustic
humor.

“He left Garcia to take the fall,”
Handel said, thinking out loud, “but Garcia didn’t stay unconscious long enough
for the police to get there.”

“So it seems. And Manny didn’t know
about the earlier domestic disturbance call his sister made two days prior
because she didn’t tell him that her husband was abusive. So instead of Garcia
taking the blame, Kawasaki became the number one suspect.”

Handel pulled the blinds open on
the window and looked out into the dark vineyards beyond. He knew all about
protecting loved ones from unsavory secrets. It was hard to believe that he’d
been defending a man with the same violent tendencies he abhorred. Sure, he had
been defending him against false murder charges, but it still felt wrong that
the man had an advocate and Jimena Kawasaki-Alvarez was in an early grave.

He heard the door open softly and
he turned to see Billie coming in with a cup of coffee. She smiled and set it
on the desk for him. He put up a finger for her to wait. “Thanks for letting me
know. I really appreciate it. Tell your nephew I owe him one,” he said.

“You owe me a double Espresso
Macchiato and a plate of those caramel rolls your friend Charley makes.”

“Will do. Let me know when you’re
hungry,” he said and put the phone down.

“Was that Frank?” she asked,
leaning on the corner of the desk.

He nodded and gave her a crooked
grin. “Guess what? We may be able to get away for that vacation a lot sooner
than expected.”

Her face lit up and she threw her
arms around him. “That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see you in that bikini,”
she murmured against his ear.

•••••

They had a family picnic the
following Saturday evening to celebrate Handel’s closed case and to give
Sabrina a fond farewell since she was flying home on Monday. Two picnic tables
were lined up out under the oak trees, covered in checkered cloths that fluttered
lightly in the breeze. Billie had made potato salad because she said the West
coast folks just didn’t know how to make proper salads. Margaret and Davy
brought sliced watermelon, chips, and a bottle of her special wine. Sabrina
upstaged them all with homemade chocolate raspberry cheesecake that looked to
die for.

“Where’s Adam?” Billie asked when
Margaret and Davy showed up without him. “I thought he was picking you up.”

Margaret sighed and set the
watermelon on the table. “He called a while ago and said he might be late.”

“Well, we’re not waiting for him.”
She nodded toward Handel already busy working his magic at the grill. “The
steaks will be ruined if he doesn’t get here soon.”

Sabrina held out a gift bag and
Davy’s face lit up. “Cool! My jersey.” He yanked the shirt out along with
crinkly tissue paper. “Look Mom,” he said, holding it up to his chest, “now I
can play hockey!”

“Not on your life,” she said, hands
on her hips. “I’m not going to have a toothless son.”

“They got mouth guards, ya know,”
he informed her as though she were completely clueless.

She sat down at the table across
from Billie. “Boys. Can’t live with’em, can’t live without’em.”

Billie pushed a plate of raw
vegetables and dip toward her. “Want some?”

“I thought you didn’t like carrots and
celery,” Margaret said, giving her a strange look.

“I’m trying to eat healthier.”
Billie eyed her mom’s cheesecake. “At least for now.”

Sabrina had already opened the
wine. She poured Margaret and Billie each a glass and held them out, but Billie
shook her head. “None for me, thanks. I’ll just have water.”

“All right. More for me.”

Handel waved her over to the grill.
“I got two medium rare, one well-done, and four hotdogs. What’s your pleasure?”
He scooped the meat onto the platter and handed it to her.

Adam’s Corvette crunched down the
gravel drive and he parked in the shade in front of the winery. He stepped out
of the car and waved, then went around to the passenger side and opened the
door.

“What’s he doing? I didn’t ask him
to bring anything,” Billie said, impatient for everyone to be seated and begin.
The food was getting cold.

Margaret stepped up behind her and
put a cloth napkin over her eyes, tying it behind her head. “No peeking,” she
said. “It’s a surprise for your birthday.”

Billie felt Davy take her hand and
pull her forward. She stepped gingerly, unsure where they were taking her and
not sure she wanted to go. “It’s not my birthday,” she argued half-heartedly,
“until tomorrow.” She’d actually been expecting something, other than the red satin
sex kitten outfit her mom had bought her, but up till now no one had mentioned
the date.

“Okay, pull off the blindfold!”
Adam said, his voice filled with laughter and maybe a little bit of reticence
as though he wasn’t sure if she would be happy about this surprise.

She slowly lifted the cloth and
pulled it off her head. Adam stood in front of her holding a squirming ball of
fur. The tri-color puppy looked at her with sad brown eyes and she felt a sharp
tug of her heart. Her brother put it in her arms and stepped back.

“Your first baby,” he announced
solemnly. “I hope you take better care of it then you did that parakeet you had
when we were kids.”

She glared at him, but couldn’t
help a smile sneaking out. “You’re the one who released the bird into the wild.
Parakeets aren’t meant to live outside of cages in Minnesota.” They’d found the
poor thing two days later frozen stiff in the back yard.

Handel stepped close, his eyes
seeking hers, “So, do you like her?”

“She’s from you?” she said,
completely taken aback. “I thought you didn’t want a dog right now. You said
they take a lot of time and attention. Like children.” She pressed her face
into soft puppy fur and smiled. “Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”

He cupped her cheek and gently
bumped his forehead to hers. “Why wouldn’t I want something that makes you this
happy?” he murmured. He put his arm around her and they walked back toward the
table. Davy stayed close and made sure he sat beside her so he could pet the
new puppy between bites of hotdog.