Seventeen years hadn’t erased the anger and pain Annie felt, seeing him again. His hair was thinner, his face puffier. He no longer had the muscles of a football player, and the suit he wore looked like it last fit about thirty pounds ago. But his taunting, arrogant expression was exactly the same. Annie would have known Steven Vick anywhere.
Undaunted, she stood her ground as he ambled toward her, his meaty hand cupped around a glass of white wine.
“Well, well, well. Still sticking your nose into other people’s business, huh?” His height meant Annie had to look up to see him. His eyes, always too small for his face, looked even smaller with the fleshy jowls of encroaching middle age. His glance darted distractedly around the room. With Harry Braithwaite and Seth Longacre close beside her, Annie felt like a sapling in a forest of large men.
“Annie MacPherson.” He laughed, though it was more like a snort. “So here we are, together again.”
“I’d say it’s nice to see you again, Steve, but I’m not that good a liar.”
“Like hell you aren’t.” He laughed again. “You always were too smart for your own good. I should have known it was you behind all this.”
“Behind what?”
“You know damned well what I’m talking about. How long have you two been cooking up your little plan?”
Annie was glad Harry and Seth were close by. “I hate to disappoint you, Steve, but yesterday was the first time I’d spoken to Taylor in—”
“You’re a fucking liar, bitch.” Steve spat out the words, his face reddening. “I know you’ve been feeding her your man-hating garbage. It wasn’t enough that you tried to ruin what we had the first time around. Now you’ve got to be here for the kill. Is that it, huh? Is that what you’re here for? The one thing I never could figure out was why she was doing it. Now that you’re here, it’s all starting to make sense. The whole thing is just a plot to keep me from getting what I’m entitled to, is that it? Well, I’ll be damned if I let you get away with that, you little…” His face red, Steve hurled his glass at Annie’s feet. The wine splashed her ankles as the glass broke into tiny fragments, the shattering sound bringing all the unpleasant memories flooding back. Annie could feel tiny slivers of broken glass clinging to her stockings, but was too shocked to move. Harry took her elbow and drew her back, as a waiter rushed in to sweep up the mess.
At the same time, Seth Longacre moved forward and grabbed Steve by the elbow. “All right, that’s enough. Guest or not, you’re leaving this party.”
“Now, wait a second, you have no right… I’ve got an invitation right here, from Martin Grubenmacher.” As he reached for his inside pocket, Seth Longacre pinned Steve’s arms behind him. Large as he was, Steve was out of shape, and the state trooper had no difficulty restraining him.
“You just wait, MacPherson. You’ve got your eggs in the wrong basket this time. You think I don’t know what’s really going on, but…”
The state trooper began propelling Steve in the direction of the front door. They had almost reached it when they were stopped by a voice from behind.
“Oh, my gosh, what’s the problem, here? Stop! What are you doing to one of my guests? What’s going on here, officer?”
Annie looked toward the stairs, where she saw a small, round man scurrying forward, babbling nervously.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Seth. “But your uh, guest here just assaulted Ms. MacPherson.” The trooper nodded at Annie and the broken glass. “I felt it was my duty as an officer of the law to escort him to the door.”
“Then you were mistaken. You have no jurisdiction here. I didn’t hire you, I know that. I invited this man as my personal guest. I’m entitled, just like the wineries. I had six invitations to do with as I pleased, and I invited this man. Oh, this is awful. I don’t have to justify myself to you. He has every right to be here.” With difficulty, Martin Grubenmacher looked the trooper up and down, having to crane his neck to do so. “More than you, most likely. I don’t remember anyone issuing you an invitation.”
Seth straightened his spine. “I am an invited guest of North Faire Winery, sir.”
“Humph. Well, are you going to let him go or aren’t you?” Reluctantly, Seth released his grip. Steve glowered at Annie as he made an exaggerated show of rubbing his arm and brushing himself off.
Grubenmacher mopped a sweaty brow with his handkerchief. “I’m terribly sorry about all this, Steve. I’ll make sure that Officer—what was your name, boy?”
“Longacre, sir.”
“—Longacre receives a harsh reprimand from his superior officer. Now, why don’t we go out to the garden where we can discuss our business without being bothered by these rude party-crashers masquerading as guests.”
“The garden? Why would I want to go out there? I haven’t even had any wine…”
“There’ll be time. There’ll be time. Please, it’s very important that we, uh, talk. In the garden. Please. This way.”
Steven Vick, still making a show of brushing himself off, looked somewhat bothered by the little man’s insistence, but nevertheless let himself be led out through the French doors. The moment they were gone, the crowd erupted in chatter, as if the angry scene had been staged solely for their entertainment.
A few minutes later Taylor appeared with Galen Rockwell. She was tightly clutching a bottle of red wine, and Galen had her firmly by the elbow. Both looked upset. Celia Vick, her face flushed with excitement, was right behind them.
“Annie, are you all right?” Taylor asked, her eyes darting around the room. “Galen saw Steve arriving, and rushed me out to the kitchen. What did Steve say to you?”
“Nothing worth repeating. I just hope we don’t have another scene when he comes back in.”
“Don’t worry,” said Galen, “I called the sheriffs’ office the moment I saw him. Whether he was invited or not, this is still a private function, and he can be asked to leave if he’s causing a disturbance. The sheriffs’ department is sending a deputy right over to take care of it, if it comes to that.”
“Where did they go?” Taylor’s eyes were bright.
“Out to the garden, supposedly to talk ‘business.’ Taylor, would you like me to wait with you somewhere, until the deputy arrives?” Taylor had been nervous when they arrived at the party; now her composure seemed about to disintegrate altogether.
“This is so like him, coming here and disrupting everything. I should just.”
“No, Taylor,” Galen snapped. “We’ve been over this. Now isn’t the time or place to try to reason with the man. I don’t know why he’s here tonight, but we’ve called the sheriff and they’ll take care of the situation.”
“Has anyone seen my brother?” Taylor kept looking around. “I need to talk to Gerald. He said he was going to be a little late, but he should have been here by now.”
“Taylor, come on, you have to calm down,” said Galen impatiently. “There’s a room upstairs where the coats are. I want you to wait up there until this all blows over. Come on, I mean it.”
“But, I need to wait for Gerald….”
“We’ll send him up when he gets here.”
“No, I…”
“Yes, now.”
Annie watched as Galen forcefully guided Taylor up the stairs. Amid the noise of the party, she couldn’t hear what Taylor was saying, but could tell by the tense set of her shoulders that she was not at all happy at being told what to do.