One Foot in the Grape (21 page)

“Y
OUR
sarcasm isn't necessary, Penelope. I'd like you to drive me home and give me an update of what you've found today.”

I looked at the sky. While the sun had set and the grounds security lights were coming on, there was plenty of natural light. “I have my car, and it's a two-seater. I don't want Annie waiting here alone . . .”

“So then we can walk up the path, and the two of you can walk back down.”

“Are you up for that, Antonia?” A mistake.

“I suggest you worry about keeping up. I only proposed driving to make it easy on the two of you.”

I looked over at Annie, who shrugged her shoulders. “Sure, we can do that, but I don't want to walk back down the hill after dark. We need to start now.”

The three of us started up the path. Annie, still caught up
in the fencing lessons, trailed behind us. I repeated the judges' comments about Martinelli, and Antonia stopped me several times to repeat portions.

A frown settled on her face as we continued up the hill. “I just can't understand it. If someone is tainting the barrels, as you say, then that explains the poor showing with the judges. Other times, the wines have never been better.”

“That's what's funny, Antonia. I'm telling you, the Merlot I tasted at your booth was fabulous.”

We reached the house and could see out over the valley as the evening settled in.

“Annie, do you mind if I have a few moments with Penelope?”

Annie nodded and sat on the bottom step as I walked Antonia up the stairs. When we reached the door, Antonia took my hand in hers, and I looked down in surprise. She'd just walked up the steep path with hardly a pause, and yet her hand felt frail in mine. She was such a combination of strength and weakness. As though she could read my mind, she squeezed my hand.

“Never doubt I will find the fortitude to see this through. I know you're frustrated, and I realize you're trying. You didn't have to help me with this, but I'm grateful you did.” Her hand swept across the vineyards that surrounded her home. “This was my life, you know. Still is. But when I look at my children, when I think of what someone did to Todd, here, at my home, I realize I could have done things differently. I don't know, maybe I would have chosen differently. Maybe I would have decided to keep love near me.” Antonia continued to gaze at the night sky. “I gave up so much to keep this . . .” She stopped and gave my hand a little squeeze.

“That's enough. Don't let me become maudlin. I just wanted to thank you for all your help, and I'm quite confident we'll figure this out. Now”—she turned toward the front door—“go get some sleep. We'll put an end to this soon.”

She walked into the house.

I joined Annie and we began the walk down the hill.

Annie glanced back at the house. “She sure is a tough old bird.”

“I've always thought so, but this has taken a lot out of her. She hates the thought of bad publicity for the winery. Hates airing her dirty laundry in public. Old-school. I also think that for the first time she's feeling her age.”

We walked in silence. The night had darkened faster than I'd expected. It always did this time of year. The moon was a sliver in the sky, but the security lights from the grounds were enough to see along the path. The air was still and carried the sound of the crickets.

Below, the festival was empty. The last of the cars left the lot and my car sat alone.

We reached the bottom of the path and the first row of booths. The curtains were down on every tent and the central area was empty. Leftover wine bottles sat stacked outside the winery tents.

We entered the main aisle and the lights went out. All of them.

I stopped short and Annie grabbed my arm. She inhaled and I turned and pushed my hand against her mouth. She nodded. The silence was as thick as the darkness. Even the crickets had stopped.

Annie moved my hand and whispered in my ear. “What
are the chances of the lights going out right at this point having nothing to do with us and just being a coincidence?”

“Not good. Not good at all.”

The lights were supposed to be on all night. If they were turned off there was a reason, and likely we were it. I had no idea where the main breakers were, but someone did. Just as they knew where we were. They'd hit the switch the moment we reached the main aisle. We had to move.

I struggled to get my bearings and grabbed Annie's hand. “We can't stay here.”

POP!
The noise whistled above us. Wood splintered as a bullet lodged in the booth nearest us.

“They have a gun.” Annie stating the obvious.

“Quiet.”

Our booth was at the center of this row. The parking lot started three rows to the left and my car was in the front, maybe twenty yards behind our booth. Still holding Annie's hand, I kept low. We moved from the center of the aisle to the edge of the row, where the booths gave us protection. We'd be exposed in the parking lot. To get to the car was another story. Where were my keys?

We were at the Martinelli booth. Four booths to go.

“I thought this wasn't supposed to happen if I stayed with you,” Annie whispered.

“They're getting desperate.”

“
They're
getting desperate? What are we?”

“Shush.”

I counted the tents until we reached our booth. I pulled Annie along and pushed her head under the railing.

“Now what?” Annie asked in a hushed tone.

“Look for a weapon.”

I felt along the ledge under the counter but found only the pomegranate jam and two Christmas ornaments. Cardboard ripped as Annie tried to get into a case of wine.

I grabbed her arm. “Too much noise. Forget it.”

“I could smash the person over the head, like they did to you.” Her arm swung through the air right next to my head.

“Stop it. It's better if they don't know where we are. Then maybe we won't need a weapon at all. I just want to find my key. Then we're making a run for my car.”

“Fine.”

A clatter came from somewhere nearby. It sounded like someone tripping over empty wine bottles.

Annie stiffened.

“Keys get your keys find your keys gotta have keys.”
I searched through my bag. “I can't find them.” I rifled my pockets. No keys.

I took a deep breath and tried to think. I had jam, two Christmas ornaments, and Annie.

They had a gun.

I started to hyperventilate.

Annie squeezed my arm.

“I'm okay. Let me think.”

“Okay, but do it fast.”

The jam was in one hand and the glass ornaments in the other. We needed some way to know where the person was. Then we needed to slow them down.

“Hold this.”

“What is it?”

“Jam.”

I crawled toward the back counter. Annie crept along beside me. I pulled a sheet of wrapping paper down to the ground.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Give me the jam.” I put the jar down and placed the ornaments on the sheet of paper. I picked up the jam and used it to slowly crush each of the ornaments.

“What are you breaking?”

“Your Christmas presents.”

I
N
the dark I folded over the paper and whispered in Annie's ear. “They must realize we'd try for the car. It's our only way out of here. We need to know where they are, which aisle they'll come down. Stay here.”

I pushed away from her, turned and ducked under the railing. I scattered the broken glass in the aisle on both sides of the booth and returned to where Annie waited in the dark.

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.”

“You don't have your keys.”

“The spare is under the fender. Where's the jam?”

Annie handed me the jar.

“Don't move until I tell you. Then run as fast as you can to the car.” We crouched in silence, the longest Annie had ever managed. We stayed there for so long I began to think I was wrong. Maybe the person didn't think of the car. Annie was
making little hiccup noises, like she couldn't breathe, and I tried to keep my heart from banging around in my chest. My hands were slick with sweat and the jam felt heavy in my hand.

We waited until I'd begun to suspect the person had left. I was sure Annie was thinking along the same lines by the way she'd started to squirm. Then, from the left of the booth, the unmistakable crunch of glass, six feet away.

I moved to the right of the tent, pushed back the corner and threw the jam as hard as I could away from us. The jam broke as it hit something the next row over.

Someone rushed toward the sound, passing the front of the booth inches from me. I waited for the steps to fade, pushed Annie though the opening, ducked out behind her and shoved her in the opposite direction. We ran toward the parking lot and reached the car. I went to the trunk and felt under the fender. No key.
No key.
Perfect.

I grabbed Annie by the arm and pushed her ahead of me, across the parking lot and into the trees. To her credit, she knew it wasn't the time to ask questions. I concentrated on reaching the slope.

“Are we going down it?” Annie asked at the edge.

The decision was made when steps sounded behind us.

Tumbling rock and dry leaves made a crescendo of sound as we slid down the hill. My toe caught and I pitched forward. Another
POP!
and the leaves on the tree ahead of me exploded. Right where my head had been. I landed on one knee, my hands spread out in front of me. A rock tore into the skin of my palm. I scrambled to my feet and threw myself toward Annie.

“Run!” I grabbed her by the arm. Another sound above us and we turned and crashed into each other. I fell backward down the hill and Annie tripped over my legs. She fell and rolled into
the brush below. I hit a tree and bit back a scream as the bark tore into my raw and bleeding palm. I brushed the hair out of my face and peered into the dark. I could just make out Annie. I stumbled down to her and grabbed the back of her shirt.

“Shh. Listen.”

Annie paused then leaned over. “I don't think they're coming.”

My heartbeat hammered in my ears, but it was quiet in the forest behind me. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness. The road to Martinelli Winery glimmered ahead like a band of silver carpet through the darkened landscape. Right back up the hill, the last place I wanted to go. The main road was half a mile in the opposite direction.

We heard the steps at the same time.

Annie groaned and started to move.

I stopped her. “They're ahead of us. Somehow they've circled around.”

We froze as the beam of a flashlight swung through the trees.

“Penny, stop.”

The flashlight shone into my face for a moment then swung up to outline Lucas.

“Someone shot at us.”

“Stay down.” He grabbed his radio and told someone to check out the festival grounds. While we waited, he scanned the woods with the flashlight and retraced our steps down the hill.

“Nobody out there now.”

“How did you know we were here?”

Lucas pointed to the light down the road, to the welcome sight of his patrol car.

“Antonia saw the security lights go out from the house and was worried about you. Hayley wouldn't have forgiven me if I didn't come out to check on you myself. It's unlikely the person is still on the grounds, but we're taking a look. Right now, though, I want to get you two home.”

We dropped Annie off first. When Lucas pulled up to my house we could see Connor and Hayley as they paced in the living room.

“Oh man, I'm really going to hear about this.”

Lucas threw up his hands. “Don't look at me. I was talking to Hayley when I got the call from Antonia. Hayley must have told Connor. You know, if you didn't get yourself into these things . . .”

“Yeah, yeah.” I opened the door. “You coming in?”

Lucas leaned forward and looked past me into the living room, where Hayley and Connor both stared out into the night. “I got you home. Now you're on your own.”

“Chicken.” I slammed the door and made my way to the house. I was prepared to argue with Hayley and to cajole and defend myself to Connor.

I stepped inside.

Hayley spoke first. “We've talked about it, and we aren't going to batter you with questions. So the lights went out. Maybe it was a coincidence. We're just glad nothing happened.”

They didn't know we'd been shot at. I'd tell them. Later. Maybe. “Okay, then.”

Connor raised a hand. “One more thing. There's not a chance in hell I'm letting you go alone next time, so don't even ask.”

Fair enough.