Blood Vines

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

Wednesday, March 17

12:45 P.M.

When Reed arrived at Red Crest, he headed back to the offices, which he found deserted. Everybody, it seemed, was at lunch. He passed Eve’s desk, making his way to his dad’s office.

The door was closed; he tapped on it. “Dad, it’s Dan.”

Wayne called for him to come in; Reed did and closed the door behind him. His father stood at the window, gazing out at the vineyards.

At the snap of the door, he swung to face his son. “I heard about that murder.”

Reed slipped his hands into his pockets. “What did you hear?”

“That she most likely did it.”

“She?”

“Patsy’s girl.”

He couldn’t even say her name. Why? Reed frowned. “You mean Alexandra?”

“You know I do.”

“Then why not say her name?”

He glared at him. “I hear you let her go.”

“Didn’t have enough to charge her, Dad. And I don’t make those decisions. D.A. called it.”

“You know where she is?”

“I might. Why?”

“She’s been busy.” He crossed to his desk, snatched up an envelope from his desk and held it out. “Take a look at this.”

Reed crossed to his father and took the envelope. Inside, folded, was a single sheet of paper. On it, in what appeared to be twelve-point Helvetica, were two simple sentences: I know your secrets. I will make you-and the others-pay.

He read it twice, then returned his gaze to his father’s. “You think Alexandra sent you this. Why?”

“Who else would have?”

He searched his father’s expression, noting the way he couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds, the subtle flush across his ruddy cheeks. “What secrets is the letter writer referring to?”

“How the hell should I know? She’s crazy with a capital ‘C.’ Just like her mother.”

Reed narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying, Dad. We both know it, so can the bullshit outrage and tell me the truth.”

For a moment, it looked as if his dad was going to argue anyway, then he shut his mouth and went around his desk and sat. He dropped his head into his hands.

Reed watched him a moment, waiting. “What secrets, Dad?” he prodded finally.

When he still didn’t answer, Reed took a shot. “It’s that story you told about Alex’s mother, about the BOV. It was a lie, wasn’t it?”

He nodded but didn’t look up.

“Why’d you lie?”

“To cover up the real truth of the BOV. In the hopes that she would stop asking questions, go back to San Francisco and just let the past die.”

“Are you Alexandra’s father?”

He looked stunned by the question. “God, no! Why would you even ask that?”

Reed ignored the question. “What does BOV really stand for? Not Boys of the Vine?”

“No. Brethren of the Vine.” He sighed, the sound heavy. “It started out innocently. On the Spring Equinox, a costume party. A mock Dionysian ritual. Patsy arranged the party. She invited the group we routinely partied with. She went all out, studied the myths and rituals surrounding the god. We had a mock altar, candlelight, incense. Wine and more wine.

“We were wild back then. Full of ourselves. Wine was becoming the legal drug of choice, and California was the supplier. We thought no one could touch us. That we were invincible.

“The party became a monthly thing. It got wilder, more out of control. As if we’d begun buying into it all, taking it seriously.” His father’s voice cracked. He passed a hand across his forehead. He didn’t look Reed in the eye. “It started innocently. A touch that should have been rebuffed, but wasn’t. A drunken kiss between friends that became anything but platonic, a revealing glimpse of breast or belly… I don’t remember exactly the moment it happened or which incident went from blurring the line to crossing it.”

Reed stared at his father, struggling to come to grips with what he was telling him. “You’re talking about wife swapping and group sex?”

“Try to understand, Son. We were living in this small world. We were the beautiful people. Everybody wanted to be us…” His dad looked ill. “It grew on us. It became like a drug. For all of us. If one had called a halt, I think we would have all stopped, but-”

“No one did.”

He shook his head. “It was insidious, like a spider. The forbidden. Our secret. The sex. Soon we were all ensnared in the web of our own making.”

Reed turned his back to his father, unable to look at him.

“That’s what we were all doing the night Dylan disappeared. We were all in the cave.”

He swung back to face his father. “You lied to the police, the FBI.”

Wayne got to his feet. “Don’t you understand? Our reputations were at stake! If this had gotten out, we would have been ruined!”

“Don’t you get it? Any one of you could be the one who killed Dylan.”

“No.” He shook his head. “We were all together in the cave.”

“And no one could have slipped out unnoticed? Between the wine and the orgasms, Dad, who was paying attention?”

No one was. The blood drained from his father’s face and he sat back down.

“Do you know who killed Alberto Alvarez?”

“Who?”

“The Sommers’ gardener. The one murdered with a secateur.”

“No! Why would I know that-”

“Who was involved? What families besides you, Patsy and Harlan?” When he didn’t immediately answer, Reed began ticking them off. “The Schwanns. The Townsends. The Bianches. Who else?”

“Max Cragan and his wife. For obvious reasons, we kept it small.”

Max Cragan. Who’d designed the ring. And who was now dead.

“Joe and his friends, were they involved?”

“No! God, no. I’d never-”

“Then why’d Tom Schwann have the tattoo?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“It’s not! I don’t know!” He launched to his feet once more, quivering with some strong emotion. “I-” Suddenly, he seemed to crumble. “They found out, somehow. Not everything, not about the sex… but they… started their own group. That stopped, too, after Dylan was abducted.”

“I’ve got to go. Give me the note.” His father hesitated and Reed crossed to the desk and snatched it up. “Are you lying about this, too?”

“No. I promise I’m not.”

Without another word, he started for the door.

“Son”-his father stood-“I’m begging you. She knows. I think she means to kill me.”

Reed stopped, hand on the doorknob. “I really doubt that. But you know what, right now I could almost kill you myself.”

“Wait!” Wayne held out a hand, his expression pleading. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Please. Think of your mother. Your brothers. I never meant for this to happen.”

Reed took in a deep breath, then released it slowly, counting to ten. “When you told that story about Patsy and all of the sons, your little speech about being sickened every time you thought of it was very convincing. You’re quite an actor.”

“I am sickened, when I think of what I exposed my family to. How I brought such evil into our lives. If I could go back, I would. We all would.”

“We had our differences, Dad. But even so, I always respected you. Until today.”

A sob escaped his father as he fell back onto the chair and dropped his head into his hands.

Reed gazed at him, unmoved. “You were so worried about your precious reputations. About the truth ruining you. You didn’t see that you’d already been ruined and that the truth was the only thing that could have redeemed you.”

Reed let himself out. He glanced down the hall and saw his brother Joe, standing in his office doorway, expression stricken. They stood that way a moment, gazes locked. He should question him, Reed knew. And he would. Just not right now. He didn’t have the stomach for it.

Moments later he stepped outside and into the brilliant day. He breathed deeply, using the moment to steady himself. He tipped his head to the sky, squinting against the light. Would he ever be able to look at his mother and father the same way? What of their friends? How did he put this behind him?

He opened his cell, dialed Alex. It went straight to voice mail and he left a message asking her to call him. Next he dialed Rachel.

“Hi, Rachel,” he said when she answered. “It’s Dan Reed.”

“Hi, Danny. What can I do for you?”

“Is Alex with you?”

“Not at this moment, I’m at work.”

“When did you see her last?”

“This morning. She stayed with me last night. She called a bit ago and said she was going to pick up some things at her place. You might try there.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“Wait, Danny! What’s up?”

“Nothing, just looking for her.” He ended the call, acknowledging that he hoped it was nothing.