Blood Vines

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

Tuesday, March 16

3:40 P.M.

Alex reclined on a chaise in the spa lounging area. Bundled up in a thick terry cloth robe, she’d been warmed, wrapped and rubbed, exfoliated, hydrated and perfumed. Soothing new age music mingled with the tinkle of water fountains and she drifted, ridiculously relaxed, the events listed on her legal pad pushed to a far back corner of her brain.

Her thoughts lit on Tim’s middle of the night profession of love. She knew Tim. Understood him. He didn’t mean it. Not in a forever kind of way. Not an I-want-to-be-faithful-to-one-woman-until-we’re-old-and-gray kind of way.

He was a little like Peter Pan, refusing to really grow up. And that was okay. It just wasn’t what she needed.

And just like the child who only wanted to play, he didn’t want to share, either. And he had seen her with Reed.

Reed. His image filled her head. She allowed herself to linger on it a moment. Linger on the memory of his arms around her. And the way they had made her feel.

She pushed both away. She wasn’t ready to think about Reed or what her feelings for him might be. How could she? He half believed she was responsible for all the craziness going on.

Of course, she half believed it, too.

Deep in her robe’s pocket, her cell phone vibrated. She’d tucked it there, though having it with her was against spa policy.

Except for the attendant who came and went, she was alone in the lounge. Alex dug the device out of her pocket. It was Tim, she saw.

“ ’Lo,” she answered, voice thick with relaxation.

“Alex? Is that you?”

“You can’t call me here. Any minute Helga’s going to pop back in and bust me.”

“I really thought I’d get your voice mail.”

“I sneaked the phone in.” His voice sounded strange. “Where are you?”

“On the road. Look, Alex, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Shoot.” She reached for her glass of wine. “Better hurry, though. I think I hear Helga.”

“Something your mother said,” he went on. “About your dad.”

Alex set the wine down with a thud. Some of the golden liquid splashed over the rim. “My dad? She said something to you about him and you didn’t tell me?”

“Don’t be mad-” His voice faded. It sounded like he had his convertible top down. “It was during one of her episodes. She’d crashed… you know what she was like then. The crazy things she would say. I didn’t think any of it was grounded in reality.”

“What, dammit? What did she say?”

“Miss, there’s no cell phone use in the spa.”

Alex held up a finger. “What did you-”

“-called him a bad man. Really bad, she said-”

“Ma’am, our rules are specific, while inside the spa, all cell phones must be off and stowed in the locker room.”

“-she left Sonoma to get away from him… keep you away from”-his voice faded in and out-“a liar. Lied about her. I’m wondering, that story about the boys… who told you?”

“Wayne Reed. Tim, pull over. I’m only getting part of what you’re saying.”

“… blamed him for Dylan… his fault-”

The spa attendant huffed loudly and held out her hand for the phone. Like Alex was a two-year-old playing with something she shouldn’t.

Alex looked at her. “Excuse me, this is quite urgent. And it’s not like I’m disturbing anyone but you.”

The woman’s expression registered shock, then anger. She turned on her heel and stalked out. Alex suspected she would be back directly-with reinforcements.

“You have to go… I’ll tell you more tonight-”

“No, wait-”

“I’m turning off my cell.”

“No! Tim-”

“Relax, doll. We’ll talk later.”

He hung up. She immediately dialed him back, but true to his promise, he had turned off his cell. It dumped her into voice mail.

She was leaving him a sharply worded message as the attendant and spa manager entered the lounge. The manager approached her, a perfect smile pasted on her plastic face. “Ms. Clarkson, I’m afraid I have to ask you to stow your cell phone with the rest of your belongings. I apologize for any inconvenience, but our goal is to provide you a luxurious and total relaxation experience. I hope you understand.”

Alex did, but she wanted to argue anyway. She wanted to shout that she had waited all her life to learn who her father was, and because of their rules she would have to wait hours more.

But she suspected they wouldn’t care. And that she would come off as the crazy woman she so feared becoming.

“Of course,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll do it now.”

Her thoughts raced with what Tim had revealed. He knew something about her father. He had known for some time.

And he hadn’t told her.

How did she wrap herself around that? Tim, more than anyone, had known how much finding her father meant to her.

Alex opened the locker but didn’t make a move to stash her phone. She stared at her neatly folded garments, the liquid relaxation of earlier little more than a memory.

Her mother “blamed him for Dylan.”

What did that mean? There were many reasons to place blame. For real sins-and imagined ones. Did that mean she thought he’d abducted him? If so, surely she would have gone to the police. A bad man, Tim had said. Really bad. A liar Alex had needed protection from.

Screw this, she decided. Relaxation was the last thing on her mind. Instead of stowing her cell phone, she grabbed her clothes and dressed.