Blood Vines

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Wednesday, March 17

1:40 A.M.

They agreed to meet in the kitchen in five minutes. Rachel claimed she couldn’t think without caffeine and Alex used the time to collect the baby brush and prepare her thoughts.

When she entered the kitchen, Rachel was already there, preparing lattes at a high-tech-looking machine. She wore a fuzzy robe and Uggs. She shuffled across to the breakfast counter with the two drinks. “Quad shot for me,” she said. “Single for you. You look like you’re already wide awake.”

She was, Alex acknowledged. Her every nerve ending seemed to be humming. Truth was, even a little caffeine might be too much.

Rachel sank onto one of the bar stools. “Hit me with it, Alex. Whatcha got?”

Alex launched in. She started at the beginning, sharing everything, every event, thought, comment and feeling. She told her about Rita Welsh and what she had learned about her mother from her; she shared the BOV story-her voice growing thick with emotion. She described her visions, her nightmares and the details of her panic attacks in the caves.

Rachel finished her latte and made another. She listened attentively, rarely commenting.

Alex explained how she had recognized the sandalwood scent and learned it was Lyla Reed’s favorite. And how Clark’s aggression in the winery had made its way into her dreams.

“How so?” Rachel asked, standing and crossing to the coffee machine for a sprinkle of cinnamon.

“His voice. And something he said-‘You want to know so bad. I’ll show you.’ ”

Rachel didn’t reply, and she went on. Deciding to hide nothing, lay it all out for the other woman to examine, Alex shared that she and Reed had become lovers.

Finally, she explained why she had called Tim. How she feared for her own sanity, then about his call to her at the spa, detailing the things he’d said about her father, and finally describing returning to her rental and finding Tim dead. Her grueling interview by the police.

Alex took a deep breath. “That package you gave me last night was from that old friend of my mother’s, Rita the librarian. My silver baby brush. My mother left it the last time Rita babysat for me and she’d found it while packing to move.”

Rachel still stood at the espresso machine, back to her. “Rach?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” The other woman turned. Alex thought she looked strange. Her latte sloshed over the rim as she carried her beverage to the table.

She handed Rachel the baby brush. She watched as Rachel unwrapped it, turned it over in her hands, then read the inscription. Her expression altered slightly. She lifted her gaze to Alex’s. “So, why Wayne Reed?”

“Mainly because the BOV story originated with him. But the rest works as well. He wanted me to go away. He warned me away from his sons. He’s the scion of an old wine family. The strong scent from my episode in the cave was Lyla Reed’s scent.”

Completely spent, she laid her head on her arms, folded on the counter in front of her. Wordlessly, Rachel set about making them toast, pouring juice.

The horizon lightened; they ate the simple meal in silence. The food helped, delivering a small burst of energy. Alex looked at Rachel. “Reed doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Rachel said softly. “I know you’re not.”

“How, Rachel? How do you know?”

“Because I lived through the same nightmare.”

The same nightmare. Of course. Rachel was implicated-because she was a part of it as well. Alex experienced an almost dizzying relief.

She wasn’t alone. Not anymore. This wasn’t just about her, it was about Rachel, too.

Because of Dylan. Because of what happened to him.

“Why now?” Alex asked. “After all these years-”

“Because he was found! His remains. That was our brother who was dug up in that vineyard. Our brother who had been stuffed into a wine crate and buried.”

“I didn’t think he’d been positively identified. When-”

“Dad ID’d them. He’s positive.”

Reed hadn’t told her.

“Dylan’s killer is out there, Alex. And I think you being here is making him nervous.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because you know who he is. You saw something that night, something you repressed.”

Alex shook her head in denial, though she knew in her gut that Rachel was right.

Rachel grabbed her hands. “First that night in the cave at Red Crest, then later here, in this one, something happened to you. Something terrifying-and terrifyingly real. We both know why.”

Alex swallowed and nodded.

“The police found blood outside the cave entrance.”

“Dylan’s?”

“His type. DNA wasn’t what it is now, but it was presumed that, yes, it was his.”

Alex felt sick. “From what I told you, do you think my father killed Tim?”

“I don’t know. Why else would someone want Tim dead?”

Alex shook her head. “He didn’t know anybody here but me. He was murdered in my kitchen, nothing was stolen, so-”

She bit back the last and looked at Rachel. “No wonder they think I did it. I’m the obvious choice.”

“But you didn’t kill him. And his last communication with you was about your father.”

“No,” Alex corrected, “it was his note. He said he had news for me.”

“So, unless you’re lying to me, we’ve got a no-brainer here. The question is, could Wayne Reed be your father?”

They fell silent. Alex thought of Reed, her feelings for him. The time they had spent together. How he would-

“Oh my God,” she said, suddenly remembering. “At Red Crest, the night of the launch party, Lyla was giving me a tour of the family trophy room. We were looking at the photographs on the walls… there was one of Wayne Reed with Robert Mondavi. She mentioned him by name.”

“The Robert Mondavi Winery, that’s where your mother was working when she met your dad.”

“Yes.” Alex dropped her face in her hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“It is,” Rachel said tersely. “You’re going to have to deal with your personal feelings later. Right now, we figure out what happened. When we do, then we go to the police.”

Alex squeezed her eyes closed. The image of the robed figures filled her head. The men, their arousal… hands holding her down. The fire, its tentacles reaching for her. The screams.

“We can do this, Alex. You can do this.”

She snapped open her eyes. “How?” she whispered. “How do we make me remember?”

“You already know. You tried it yourself.”

She did know. The wine cave.

Alex’s heart beat heavily. She struggled to breathe past the sudden, overwhelming fear that balled up in her chest. Was she up to this? Was she strong enough?

It’s what she had set out to do. Unearth her past. Fill the empty place inside her, the one where those memories used to live. Find her father and identify her brother’s killer.

Was she strong enough? she wondered again.

Alex shuddered and Rachel caught her hands. “I’ll be right there with you. I’ll talk you through it.”

“A reenactment,” she whispered. “That’s what we need to do.”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Tonight. Late. I’ll prepare everything. You try to get some rest.”

That would be easier said then done, Alex acknowledged. She was completely terrified already, and she hadn’t yet set a foot in the cave.