Lori gasped. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, and she leaned against one of the sturdy cedar line posts that made up the rowlong trellis that supported the grapevines. She had never fainted in her life, but the vineyard was swirling around her, and her head felt like it was going to explode.
Justin looked around and found a five-gallon plastic bucket, which he turned upside down.
Gratefully Lori sank down on it. “A million dollars!”
“Nine hundred eighty-nine thousand seven hundred sixty-three dollars and fifteen cents, to be exact.”
“The whole time we had to cut corners and lay off staff because the winery was going bankrupt, Mark had a friggin’ trust fund!” She simply couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “He wanted us to fail.” It was a staggering realization. If Mark hadn’t already been dead and she could have gotten her hands around his neck at this moment, she would have strangled him. Of course, that was not something she should say out loud in front of the Texas Ranger in charge of the murder investigation.
“Jerry Winston said he and Mark were on the verge of a sale, so I doubt that Mark was willing to sink any of his trust fund into Crystal Springs if he didn’t believe he had to,” Justin told her.
“But why would he keep all that a secret from me?”
Justin gave her a “come on, you know the answer to that” look.
“Yeah, I guess he didn’t plan on us being part of his life any longer,” she muttered. As if this whole crazy, humiliating escapade weren’t bad enough, this new information made her feel really shitty. Her husband, the man she had once loved, had been willing to sell the vineyard—her daughter’s inheritance—out from under them while he was running off to God knows where with his flavor of the month, a gigantic rock, and almost a million dollars. Any last bit of pity she had for him disappeared at that moment. It was obvious that he had had absolutely no feelings for her or Mackenzie.
She had been crushed by the cheating, but that paled in comparison to this new betrayal. He didn’t care if his own child was homeless. She had no doubt he’d intended to finalize the deal with Winston, then disappear forever.
But someone had changed his plans…drastically.
Fueled by her anger, Lori felt a rush of gratitude to whoever had stopped Mark from succeeding with his selfish plan. The feeling was quickly squelched by the reminder that Mark had been her husband, for worse more than for better, but also the father of her daughter. And it was worth all the heartache and physical abuse to have Mackenzie in her life.
Lori sucked in several deep, steadying breaths. This changed everything. She could move forward with collecting his insurance, which she would use to pay off some of the loans she had taken out to keep the winery running, and then…Her thoughts stopped abruptly as she remembered one little detail standing in the way of her future. She had to find out who killed Mark before they tried to pin it on her.
Even she could see that the circumstantial evidence pointed directly to her. Since they wouldn’t be able to nail down the exact day or time, she wouldn’t be able to provide an alibi. If she had known about the money and his plans to run off with that waitress or some other woman, then Lori would definitely have a motive. And she had had plenty of opportunities to kill him.
She looked up at Justin, who was watching her closely. He could be her worst enemy, infiltrating her life and pretending to be her friend while he was gathering all kinds of evidence to use against her. Or, if she believed the genuine compassion in his eyes or the warmth in his voice when they were having dinner the other night, he could be her best ally. Maybe she could join forces with him and help him find the killer. Two heads were better than one, right?
It suddenly occurred to her that the money too had disappeared. Or had it? She stood, energized by her new resolve. “What about the money? Was it buried with him?”
“No, there was nothing other than his clothes and the ring. Not even his wallet.”
“Are you sure? How deep did you dig? Could it still be there?”
“They did a pretty thorough search of the site, but I suppose it’s possible that it’s still there.”
“Can we look?”
He gripped both of her shoulders in his big hands and forced her to face him and look into his eyes. “Are you saying that you knew nothing about the trust fund or the money?”
She shook her head emphatically. “He mentioned a trust fund once, but I had no idea if it even existed or how much it might be. He certainly didn’t tell me that he had cashed it out. All I know is that the money has to be out there somewhere…and that would lead us to the killer, wouldn’t it?”
He didn’t release her. “So tell me, and be absolutely certain about this, because they will check all of your accounts thoroughly, did you make any large deposits or receive any money whose source might be questionable?”
She thought through the last few years carefully, trying to catch anything that might look suspicious. She couldn’t think of anything that she couldn’t justify. “No, I kept excellent records of every penny that came in or went out.”
“How did you pay for the renovations? How did you manage to bring this place back to life?” he demanded, his expression fierce.
“There was around thirty-five thousand dollars in our joint account when Mark went missing. The only employees I kept were Raúl and Raquel. Between us we did all the work, including converting part of the main building into a restaurant. I had to hire an electrician and a plumber so I could get all the permits I needed to serve food and alcohol other than our wine tastings.”
“That all sounds expensive.”
She lifted her hands, palms up. “I still have the blisters from working in the vineyard and the winery. And I learned how to cut and lay tile on the floors and behind the bar. Raúl does beautiful woodwork. He built all the cabinets and tables from old barrels and reclaimed wood from a barn that a neighbor wanted torn down. He even made the chairs, and Raquel wove the cane seats. And we stocked the gift shop with local handicrafts at first.”
Justin didn’t try to hide his relief. “Did you have any income?”
“We had several thousand barrels aging, and we always sell out every harvest. Plus, once we got the gift shop and restaurant up and running, we started making money. When we added the biweekly events and the festival, we began to get regulars. And I fought to get us included in the Fredericksburg Wine Road 290, which pulled in the tourist traffic and gained us more fans. We were able to hire workers for the last four harvests, which is how we increased our output, and we bought grapes from California. Plus, I paid someone to clear out the pasture so we could plant the olive trees.”
Justin still seemed skeptical, and Lori reached out and clenched handfuls of his crisp white shirt.
“I didn’t kill Mark. I want to find out who did this as much as you do…more, probably. This is my life, my daughter’s life. Please let me help.”
Justin’s grip on her shoulders softened, but he didn’t let go. For over a minute he stood silently, his expression thoughtful, as he appeared to run through all the facts of the case and the repercussions of whatever action he decided to take. She could practically see the wheels turning inside his mind, but finally he gave her a rueful smile.
“God help me, but I believe you. The only way I can prove it is by finding the real killer.” His hands dropped away, but he kept the connection with his eyes locked to hers. “I can’t make you any promises, but in all modesty I’m damn good at my job.”
For the first time in days, perhaps years, Lori felt the burden she’d been carrying slide off her shoulders. She had been all alone, worrying about everything for so long that the relief left her a little giddy. Without really considering her actions, she flung her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug.
His arms hung at his sides for a few seconds, then they wrapped around her, holding her close.
Lori knew she should step away, but it felt so good to be in his arms. She felt safe and protected. Her head fit perfectly on his shoulder, snuggled into the curve of his neck. His skin was warm and smelled like soap and some sort of spicy aftershave. She became aware of her breasts pressed against the solidness of his muscular torso. He shifted, trying to keep her from feeling the bulge of his erection, but her heart leaped as she realized that she was able to turn him on. When her husband had literally run away, Lori’s confidence had taken a mortal hit. Working like a laborer in the fields and the restaurant had stripped away her femininity.
Standing in the darkening twilight with this man and knowing that he desired her was like a shot of vitamin B12. She pulled back far enough to look into his face and found him staring down at her. There was just enough light to see longing shining in his eyes as his nostrils flared. Why didn’t he kiss her? With all her heart she wanted him to crush his lips down on hers in wild passion. She waited, trembling in anticipation, as he leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath on her mouth, and her lips opened…eager…hungry…
Abruptly he straightened. His arms dropped, and he stepped away. They stood about a foot apart, both of them struggling to breathe normally.
“I have an appointment in the morning,” he said, his voice strangely ragged. “I’ll stop by in the afternoon, and we can compare notes.”
“Okay. I’ll look forward to it,” she managed to say, trying not to let him hear the disappointment that he hadn’t kissed her. But then, there was the anticipation of tomorrow.
Together, not touching but only inches apart, they walked toward the pool of light that surrounded the main building, out of the privacy of the grapevines and darkness of the night and back to the real world.