Blood Vines

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Monday, March 15

8:20 P.M.

Reed watched Alex and her ex walk away. BOV. Boys of the Vine. It fit, that was for sure.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He looked at Tanner in question.

“You’re a stand-up guy, Reed. Rock solid. And I like you. Clarkson, on the other hand, seems to be operating from a place somewhere left of center. She worries me.”

She worried him as well. On several levels. Not the least of which was the way seeing her with her ex-husband made him feel.

The ex who hadn’t acted like an ex. He’d been protective. And possessive. When he’d introduced himself, there had been a tone in his voice, a look in his eyes. That man-to-man sizing up of the competition. A challenge issued.

Reed had recognized it because he’d had the same tone, the same look. Obviously, Tanner had picked up on it.

He turned to her. “Mind if I bag on dinner? I’m going to run this BOV thing by a couple of old-timers.”

“Want company?”

“Not this time.” He started off. She stopped him by calling his name.

“Got your cell?” He indicated that he did and she patted hers, clipped to her hip. “Use it, dude.”

He did, calling ahead to make certain his dad was at home. He was. Luckily, his brother Joe was there as well. He parked behind Joe’s big-ass Benz and climbed out.

His mom had seen the headlights and met him at the door. “This is such a lovely surprise, Dan.”

He kissed her cheek. “For me, too.”

“Your dad and Joe are in the library. Talking business, as always. Have you eaten?”

“No. And yes, I’d love to stay.”

Reed made his way to the library and tapped on the partially closed door before sticking his head inside. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, Son.” His father waved him in. “Have a seat.”

From Joe’s expression, Reed suspected their father had been delivering news Joe hadn’t particularly cared for.

Every once in a while, Reed compared his brothers’ lifestyles to his own and wondered if he’d screwed up. The luxury vehicles and exotic trips, grand homes and designer clothing. Then he’d get a peek at what that lifestyle really cost his brothers and be thankful for his decision. He’d rather drive his battered SUV than be his dad’s punching bag or puppet.

His dad poured him a glass of wine. “Particularly proud of this one,” he said.

“What brings you out tonight?” Joe asked stiffly, refilling his glass.

Reed kept his eyes trained on his brother. “Boys of the Vine.”

Joe seemed to freeze. “What did you say?”

“BOV. Boys of the Vine.” Reed shifted his gaze from Joe’s pale face to his father’s flushed one, then back. “Joe? You recognize the name?”

His brother looked helplessly at his father. Reed found something in his expression trapped. And horribly lost.

He and his older brother had never gotten along that well, but he found himself feeling sorry for him.

“For God’s sake, Dan!” his dad exclaimed. “This isn’t the time or place-”

“You’re right on one account, Dad. It’s past time.” He turned back to his brother. “Joe? You recognize it?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice choked. “I recognize it. Boys of the Vine. That was us.”

“Who?”

“Our posse. Me and Clark. Terry, Tom and Spanky. A couple others.”

“That’s all I wanted. Confirmation.”

“Dinner is ready,” Lyla said from the doorway.

“I’m not staying,” Joe said. “I promised Cindi I’d be back in time to help with homework.”

“But I thought-”

“Sorry, Mom. My bad.” He kissed her goodbye, then without a word to either of the other two men, left.

Lyla looked from one to the other of them. “What was that all about?”

“Don’t know, sweetheart.” Wayne rubbed his hands together. “But that means more for me.”

During dinner, his father was like another man. Not even a shadow of what had transpired seemed to cross his features. He was every inch the jovial, accommodating husband. The sympathetic father.

His father was a chameleon, Reed thought. Why hadn’t he noticed before?

His mother interrupted his thoughts. “Have you made any progress on finding Tom’s killer? I saw Jill the other day, poor thing looked devastated.”

“The investigation’s ongoing, Mom. But I’m glad you brought that up.” He laid down his fork. “The night Tom died he made four calls in the seventeen minutes before his murder. One of them was to up here, to Red Crest.”

His mother looked stunned. “My God, how awful.”

“Did you happen to take that call?”

“No,” she said, then turned to her husband. “Wayne, did you?”

He shook his head. “No, baby.”

“He connected with somebody. The call lasted two and a half minutes.”

His dad looked at him. “Maybe one of the staff answered?” he offered.

Something in his expression set Reed’s hair on edge. What was he hiding? “Maybe. Why do you think he called up here?”

“Probably hoping to find a ride.”

What he had thought. Until tonight.

His mother made a sound of distress. “If only I had answered, he might be alive today.”

“I’ll talk to the staff, see if one of them spoke to him,” his father said.

“And I’ll call the caterers,” she added. “You never know.”

You never did know, Reed thought a short time later as he and his dad walked to his Tahoe. He’d found his father’s behavior tonight troubling. The chameleonlike quality, his evasiveness. Even Joe’s unease and quick departure.

“I didn’t appreciate that, Dan.”

“What’s that?”

His dad lit a cigar, then met Reed’s gaze through a haze of smoke. “Coming up here, confronting your brother that way. Then questioning me and your mother.”

“Too bad. Besides, Mom brought up Tom’s murder.”

“You will not disrespect me that way.”

Reed stopped, turned fully toward his father. “Until tonight, I didn’t realize how good you are at hiding the truth, Dad. You really have kept Mom in the dark about everything, haven’t you?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you manipulate everyone? Your wife and kids? Business associates? Friends? Where does it stop?”

“You calling me a liar, Son?”

“You tell me, Dad. Are you?”

“Get the hell off my property. Nobody calls me a liar. Especially not one of my own children.”

They reached the SUV. Reed unlocked his car door, then swung to face his father. “The night Dylan Sommer disappeared, you and Mom were having dinner with Patsy and Harlan.”

He looked startled by the change in subject. “Yes.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

“You’re certain about that?”

“Yes, dammit. I was sure of it then, I’m sure of it now.”

So why, Reed wondered, did he think he was lying? “And Patsy, when did she do her Boys of the Vine thing?”

“When?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Joe didn’t tell you?”

“It didn’t seem that important. After they got out of school, I suppose. When we were all at work.”

“Where’d they meet?”

“I don’t know-Why does it matter?”

“How often?”

“Often enough to steal our boys’ innocence!”

“Has it occurred to you that Dylan might have been stolen by one of the boys? One who was jealous? Or the family of one of the minors. Or Harlan himself.”

“That’s ridiculous. They were just boys.”

“You took that call from Tom, didn’t you, Dad?”

“The hell I did. I already told you-”

“And the Boys of the Vine thing, if it’s not an outright lie, there’s more to it. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Go. Get off my property.” His voice shook. “You’re not welcome back until you’re ready to apologize.”

Reed opened the car door and slid behind the wheel, then looked back at his dad. “By the way, Pop, I choose my own relationships. Don’t warn a woman away from me again.”