Blood Vines

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Saturday, March 13

10:50 A.M.

Not a child. Not a gruesome murder.

A sick joke.

Reed had recognized the fake almost immediately. Almost, save for one agonizing second as his heart clutched in his chest. He glanced sideways, at Tanner. “Looks like the same kind of doll.”

She nodded and fitted on gloves. “No doubt the same twisted jokester.”

She tapped the red puddle, then rubbed the liquid between her fingers. “Same as last time.”

He followed suit, then held it to his nose. It had a decidedly sweet smell. He looked over his shoulder at Treven, Clark and Rachel. “Somebody’s playing a trick on you. A really sick one.”

Treven frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“This is a doll, the blood is fake.”

“An Ashton Drake doll,” Tanner explained. “Very expensive. A collectible known for being lifelike, if you’ll pardon the word choice.”

The trio looked stunned. “But why?” Rachel said. “Why would someone do this?”

Treven stepped in. “Real child or not, now I’ve got a public relations nightmare on my hands. The last thing I want the Sommer label associated with is dead babies.”

Dead babies. Two of them. First Dylan. Now this.

Reed felt Tanner’s gaze and knew she had made the same connection.

“Let’s focus on the good news, Uncle Treven,” Rachel said, an edge in her voice. “Five minutes ago we thought someone had murdered a child and stuffed the body in one of our fermenting tanks. Now we simply have a public relations nightmare.”

“It is pretty cold, Dad,” Clark agreed. “You don’t always have to be such a son of a bitch.”

Tanner cleared her throat, Reed suspected, to hide a chuckle. For himself, he bit back a sound of surprise at Clark’s uncharacteristic show of spine.

Treven flushed. “I have a business to run, Son. A bottom line to watch. If you plan to fill my shoes someday, you’d better toughen up.”

Reed stepped in before Clark had a chance to respond. “We’ve seen this before, a couple weeks ago. A doll like this one was left mutilated and strung up in the Hilldale vineyard.”

“This is the first I heard of it,” Treven said. He looked at Clark, who shook his head, then at Rachel.

“I heard about it,” she said. “Only because I’m friends with Betsy Dale.”

Treven nodded, looking pleased. “That’s good news. We’ll work to keep this under the radar as well. Dan, can you help us out here? Can we keep it out of the papers?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” He glanced at Tanner for confirmation.

“Okay with me,” she said to Treven. “You’re the victim.”

Something crossed his expression that left Reed feeling as if Treven Sommer hadn’t appreciated that label.

“Who found it?” Reed asked.

“A couple from Illinois. They were taking a picture by the tanks.”

He glanced at Tanner. “We question them first. Somebody goes to this much trouble and expense, they don’t leave their work being discovered to chance.”

Tanner agreed. “One of the deputies is gathering the names of everyone on the tour.”

Treven looked at his watch, expression irritated. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a dozen visitors I have to reassure and appease. Clark, Rachel, I could use your help.”

“I’ll be right there,” Rachel said, the edge in her voice once again. “I need a minute.”

Reed watched the father and son go, then turned back to Rachel. “Treven didn’t seem too happy about your show of independence.”

“He’s an asshole.”

Reed felt Tanner’s surprise at Rachel’s blunt expression. He admitted surprise himself. “You can speak freely around me, Rachel. Don’t hold back.”

“Sorry. That wasn’t very professional.” She let out a frustrated-sounding breath. “Grandpa had other ideas for the winery and Uncle Treven only got where he is because-” She bit the words back. “Maybe he should think of that the next time he decides to go all King of the World on us.”

She jammed her hands into her pockets. “Look, I just wanted to let you know, Alex is in my office. She’s pretty shook up.”

At his obvious surprise, she added, “She was on the tour this morning. I’ll be in the tasting room if you need me. Helping soothe those ruffled feathers.”

Reed watched her walk away, then turned to Tanner. He found her watching him, eyes narrowed, expression speculative. “Interesting,” she murmured. “The lovely Ms. Clarkson is in the thick of it again.”

Reed collected his thoughts as he made his way to the administrative building and Rachel’s office. Alex had been on the first tour of the morning. He found that odd. The obvious reason to take such a tour-to learn about the process and see the property-didn’t wash. She could have asked Rachel, or several other family members, for a private tour.

But no, she’d bought a ticket to a group tour. The first of the day. A tour that turned out to be anything but routine.

“The lovely Ms. Clarkson is in the thick of it again.”

Reed wished he could argue with the subtext of that comment, but couldn’t. He’d said the same thing-to Alex herself-just last night.

The admin building was nearly deserted. All hands were no doubt in the tasting room doing damage control. He made his way to Rachel’s office. The door was partially open; through the opening he saw Alex sitting slumped in a chair in front of Rachel’s desk.

He tapped on the door. She wasn’t alone, he saw. Krista, Rachel’s assistant, was with her.

“Reed!” Alex cried, leaping to her feet and running to him. “Thank God!”

She threw her arms around him and held him tightly. “It was so horrible. That poor child… first Dylan, now-”

“It’s all right, Alex.” He awkwardly put his arms around her. “It was a sick joke.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t understand.”

“It was a doll, Alex.”

“But I saw”-her voice wobbled-“everyone did. It was so-”

“Real?” She nodded, throat working. “It’s a very expensive type of doll known for its realism.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Thank God… I was so, I couldn’t stop thinking about what-”

As if suddenly remembering the night before, she stiffened and stepped away from him. She folded her arms across her chest. “Who would do something like this?”

He looked at Rachel’s assistant. “Krista, could we have a few minutes?”

She left them alone and Reed motioned to the chair. “Sit down, Alex.” When she had, he went on. “This has happened before. Once. Not that long ago.”

She furrowed her brow.

“Same kind of doll. Also mutilated. But strung up in a vineyard.”

“Crucifixion style.”

He paused, frowning. “How did you know?”

She blinked. “I don’t know. I just guessed.”

“What were you doing here today?”

“Taking the tour, like everybody else.”

“But you’re not like everyone else on the tour. You have connections with the family. If you’d asked, any of them would have given you a private tour.”

“I didn’t want to bother anybody. It seemed so much simpler to just buy a ticket.”

“That doesn’t add up for me, Alex.”

“Why am I not surprised by that?”

“Come on. Do you really blame me?” He crossed to stand directly in front of her. She tipped her head to meet his eyes. “You’re here for this one tour, in the history of wine country tours, where a mutilated doll is discovered in a fermenting tank. And I’m not supposed to find that damn incriminating?

Before Alex could reply, Rachel stuck her head into the office. “How are you doing, Alex?”

“Better. Now that I know it was just somebody’s perverse idea of humor.”

“Tell me about it.” She shifted her gaze to Reed. “Your partner asked me to tell you she’d like to speak with you, as soon as you’re done here.”

He nodded. “I’m done. For now.” He looked back at Alex. “Are you going to be okay?”

Rachel answered for her. “She will. I’ll make sure of it.”