Blood Vines

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Saturday, March 6

9:45 P.M.

Alex hadn’t wanted to see any more photographs. Instead of answering her questions, what she’d seen had posed more. Not only that, it hurt to look at them. She couldn’t stop thinking about her mother, the smile she’d worn in each picture, and comparing that to the woman who had been so despondent she had swallowed a bottle of pills.

Maybe Lyla was right. Maybe she couldn’t understand because she wasn’t a mother.

“Are you okay?” Reed asked.

She forced a smile and held up her glass. “I’m empty. And hungry, I think.”

They found the buffet and filled their plates. The spread was incredible, everything California and that paired with zinfandel, all fresh, natural and arranged beautifully.

There they ran into Rachel. She was talking wine with a journalist, but paused to give Alex a hug and kiss on the cheek. “We’re going to lunch on Monday,” she said. “You can’t say no. Noon at El Dorado Kitchen.”

Next, she met Treven Sommer. Although she knew Treven to be several years older than Harlan, he looked a decade younger.

“Alexandra,” he said warmly, gathering her hands in his, “Harlan told me you had been by to see him. He told me about Patsy. She was an exceptional woman. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she managed, voice thick. “I’m certain she would have appreciated you saying that.”

“Did she ever do anything with her painting?” he asked. “She was quite gifted.”

“She was painting back then?” Alex asked, surprised. No one else had mentioned it.

“Yes, indeed. The painting in our tasting room, behind the bar, is one of hers. I believe Harlan has several. There are a few in the collections of friends in the valley. Come by the winery before you leave.”

“She’s going to be around awhile, Dad. Haven’t you heard?”

She turned to the man who had come up behind them. Forty-something, she guessed. Trim and fit-almost too trim. She would bet he was a runner. He had that look about him, tightly coiled, the kind of guy who pounded the miles as a release.

“My son, Clark.”

He held out his hand. “Alex. Good to see you again.”

“You, too.” She took his hand. “Though I wish I could say I remember you.”

“I heard about that. Think being here might jog your memory?”

“I can hope, though it hasn’t yet.”

They chatted awhile; others came and went. Her glass was refilled-several times. Suddenly, she needed fresh air. While Reed took a call, she headed out onto the patio.

She breathed deeply though her nose, the cold air clearing her head. The sky was brilliantly black, dusted with stars. Laughter floated on the night air. At the back of the property, the lit entrance to the wine cave created a welcoming window in the darkness.

And it beckoned. Why not? she thought. The caves were open for tours tonight, and truthfully the idea of them fascinated her. If she had explored them as a child, like everything else, she didn’t remember.

She stepped off the patio and onto the gravel path that led to the cave. Considering the wine she’d consumed and the impracticality of her strappy sandals, she probably shouldn’t be doing this alone, she thought. Of course, she’d never let pragmatism stop her before.

The walkway wound through the gardens. She glanced back at the house, at the dark path behind her. Beyond it, a circle of light spilled from the house into the gardens. Music mingled with the laughter on the night air, though the nearer she drew to the cave, the more muted the sound.

The area directly inside the cave served as a sort of welcome center. A table had been set up, complete with some brochures on tonight’s Bear Creek Zin as well as the Reeds’ other wines and the winery’s history. On the table, also, stood an open bottle of wine and a display of glasses. Above the table hung a magnificent candelabra constructed out of a wine barrel.

If someone had been manning the table, they were gone now. Perhaps giving a tour, she thought. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she waited for their return, using the time to take in the cave’s interior. The walls were relatively smooth, the corridors narrow. Although a good thirteen feet high, the ceilings’ barrel shapes made them seem considerably more closed in.

Three arms extended off the welcome area and Alex wandered toward the center one. The only light was provided by a ceiling-mounted row of bare lightbulbs. Racks of stacked wooden barrels lined both sides of the tunnel.

A cooled-by-nature place to age wine, she thought. Purely functional. None of the glamour of the welcome area or inside tasting rooms.

She wandered deeper, as if propelled by an unseen force. As she did, a strong sense of déjà vu came over her. She had been here before, she was certain of it.

She headed deeper into the cave, excited by the possibility that she was finally remembering.

A sound behind her caused her to stop and look back. The tunnel behind her was empty. “Hello,” she called.

Her voice echoed back at her. She frowned. How far from the welcome area was she? Not far, she decided. Not so far she wouldn’t hear activity there.

She pressed on, her heart beating heavily. Drumlike, it filled her head. She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder again, torn between the urge to push on and head back.

Pushing forward won out.

The smell of incense, sharp and sweet, stung her nose. Her steps faltered. She glanced around her. Where, she wondered, was it coming from? Up ahead, the tunnel split into two. She reached the fork, then stopped and listened. She heard the faint strain of voices. Laughter.

A tour in progress, she thought. To the right.

She started off that way. The voices grew louder. Men and women, she heard. Laughter. Other sounds, as well. Ones she couldn’t quite identify but that made her feel uncomfortable.

Not a tour. A group had moved the party out here. They were having themselves a really good time. They wouldn’t appreciate her interruption.

Time to head back, Alex.

She hadn’t paid attention to where she was going, she realized. But how hard could it be? A left would take her back toward the entrance. Maybe.

She tried it. But instead of taking her away from the partying group, it seemed to bring her closer. The voices grew louder; the smell more intense.

She turned back the way she’d come, then took the right instead. But again, the sounds grew louder.

She stopped, confused and fuzzy-headed. She took a deep breath, trying to focus, cursing herself the last couple glasses of wine.

“Hello?” she called out. “Is someone there?”

Instead of a response came the rise and fall of laughter. Louder still, she thought. How could that be? Was she walking in circles? Was the cave playing tricks on her?

Panic came upon her suddenly. With it the sense that the cave was closing in on her. She struggled to control her runaway pulse, to breathe deeply and slowly.

Stop it, Alex. There are people nearby; Reed will come looking for you. Someone will find you.

Somewhat calmer, she took stock of her location, then told herself to keep moving. Put one foot in front of the other. She did, counting her steps, acknowledging that the tunnels all looked exactly the same-lined with barrels, the single row of bulbs seeming to stretch on forever.

And then they went out. Total darkness engulfed her. Her knees went weak. The glass slipped from her hand, hitting the floor and shattering. She felt the spilled wine splash her ankles.

The sound of the partiers grew louder, though nearly drowned out by her thundering heart and ragged breathing.

“I’m still in here!” she cried. “Wait!”

More laughter reached her ears. Strange grunting noises. A howl that sounded part human, part animal. She backed away, bumping into a stack of barrels.

“Hello!” she called again, hearing the desperation in her own voice. “Please, someone!”

“Alex! Alex, where are you?”

“Reed!” she cried. “I’m here!”

A beam of light swept crazily over the floor and walls, then pinned her.

It seemed ages until he reached her, until he drew her into his arms and against his chest. “My God, you’re shaking.”

Alex clung to him. “I got turned around. I called out, but no one-” She buried her face in his chest. His shirt was soft against her cheek, the beat of his heart reassuring. He smelled of soap and a subtly spicy aftershave.

Except for their breathing, it was silent. No more clandestine party animals.

“I guess we broke up that party,” she murmured, easing out of his arms, feeling more than a little bit foolish.

“We didn’t have much to do with it. Once the caterer packs up the bar, the fun’s always over.”

She realized he meant the wine launch. “Not that. There was a group out here. Carrying on. Burning incense.”

“Incense?”

She realized how outrageous that sounded. “That’s what I thought at the time, but maybe they were smoking weed.” He frowned and she went on, “Whatever they were up to, it hadn’t been for public viewing.”

The lights snapped on. A moment later, Reed’s younger brother, Ferris, appeared at the far end of the tunnel.

“Bro,” Ferris called, “what’s the deal? I thought I heard someone scream.”

Reed turned toward his brother. “Alex got turned around, then the lights went out. It scared her. No big deal.”

Alex stepped away from Reed, frowning. She hadn’t screamed. She opened her mouth to tell them, then shut it, confused. Or had she? Obviously they’d both heard a scream.

Not good, Alex. Definitely not good.

Ferris grinned. “Okay then. Sorry to interrupt your knight in shining armor thing.”

“Get a life, little brother,” Reed shot back, “that’s everyday for me.”

“Give me a break. And look, flip the lights and lock up when you go.”

“Wait!” Alex called. “There’s a group deeper in the cave. I heard them partying.”

“Are you sure? I did a sweep of the tunnels earlier-”

“I know what I heard. And smelled.”

“She thinks they might’ve been smoking weed,” Reed said.

Ferris swore. “Punks. This has happened before.”

Reed looked back at her. “When the lights went out, could you still hear them?”

“Right before, yes.”

He frowned. “There’s only one way in and out of the cave, Alex. When the lights went out, that’s where I was. I heard you scream, grabbed the flashlight and came looking for you.”

“And I was right behind you, Reed,” Ferris said. “One of us would have run into a group exiting.”

“Then they’re still here. I’m certain of it.”

Reed gazed at her a moment, then back at his brother. “Alex and I will take a look. Ferris, hang out in front, would you? The last thing we want is a group of kids using this as their personal party pad.”

Ferris agreed, and together, Alex and Reed searched the cave. Designed in a fan shape, with dozens of pockets off each arm and a reception area at the far corner, it took better than thirty minutes to complete. And in the end, they found no sign of anyone else or a clandestine party.

“Sorry, Alex,” Reed said.

“I don’t understand. I know what I heard.”

A small group had gathered at the cave entrance. It included Reed’s mother and father, Rachel and Treven.

“Anything?” Ferris asked. Reed shook his head.

Rachel rushed forward. “Are you all right, Alex?” She grabbed her hands and rubbed them. “They’re so cold! Poor thing.”

“This is so embarrassing.”

“Nonsense!” Rachel exclaimed. “Those caves are creepy even when the lights are on. I wandered into one when I was ten, got lost and wasn’t discovered for hours. I still shudder when I go in.”

Lyla joined Rachel. “Ferris said you thought you heard voices?”

Before she could respond, Reed stepped in. “We did a search. Came up empty.”

The older Reed made a sound of sympathy. “Funny the way sounds carry at night.”

“Indeed,” Treven agreed.

Alex bit back a denial. She’d heard voices nobody else had and hadn’t heard the scream everybody else had. Arguing would make her look more ridiculous than she already did.

It might even make her look crazy.

Just like her mother.