It was his parents’ divorce that had finally opened his eyes. When Warner immediately remarried the bitch it had all become clear. Warner never intended for his firstborn son to inherit the Colfax empire. He planned to beget himself a new heir.
Quinn knew that he’d had another chance to walk away at that point. Instead, he had allowed Jillian to talk him into staying. And then had come the news of the merger offer, and with it the opportunity of a lifetime to exact revenge. If the merger went through, Colfax Inc. would be swallowed up and effectively cease to exist. He and Jillian could walk away with a great deal of money.
Once again he had chosen to stay. He needed the money if he was going to have a chance in hell of hanging on to Jillian.
He heard the heavy footsteps in the hall and dropped down into his chair. He took another swallow of the vodka and orange juice to fortify himself and waited.
The door of the office slammed open. Warner Colfax stormed into the room.
“What the hell is going on?” Warner demanded. “I heard that Mason Fletcher came here to see you yesterday afternoon. This morning it’s all over town that he was in a car accident and wound up in the hospital. What was he doing here?”
Quinn lounged back in his chair and stacked his heels on the corner of the desk. He took another pull on his drink.
“You mean the great, all-knowing Warner Colfax hasn’t figured out what’s happening? There was a time when you knew everything that was going on in your kingdom. Careful, Dad. You’re slipping.”
Warner’s face flushed a dull red. “It’s three-thirty in the afternoon. How much have you had to drink?”
Quinn contemplated his glass. “First one all day. I decided it was time to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“My departure from Colfax Wines. I’m quitting as of today. What else would I be celebrating?”
Warner planted both hands on the desk and leaned forward, eyes glittering. “What are you talking about?”
Quinn rolled the glass between his palms. “Where to begin? Shall I start with the fact that I strongly suspect that Lucy Sheridan is refusing to sell her shares to you or anyone else because she thinks Sara and Mary were murdered?”
“That’s ridiculous. They died in a car accident. Everyone knows that.”
“Not sure Lucy is buying that.”
Warner’s brows snapped together. “That’s why she’s being so damn stubborn about the shares?”
“I think so, yes. Got a hunch she isn’t the only one who believes there was something suspicious about the accident. Hence the visit from Fletcher yesterday.”
“Damn it. What did he want from you?” Warner asked.
“Answers. He seemed mostly interested in the past. So I told him what he had already guessed—that thirteen years ago, Brinker was furious because Fletcher refused to join the merry little band of acolytes who worshipped the awesome Brinker. I also told him that Brinker was enraged because Fletcher rescued Lucy Sheridan the night of the final party at the ranch.”
“Rescued her from what?”
“I think Sara Sheridan was right,” Quinn said. “I think Brinker was the Scorecard Rapist. There is no doubt in my mind that he intended to make Lucy one of his victims. Fletcher heard rumors the afternoon of the party. That’s why he showed up that night.”
“You knew Brinker was the ra**st? Or are you just guessing?”
“I didn’t know it at the time. But I’m dead certain of it now. He used me like he used everyone else, but we weren’t friends. He never confided in me. However, he was so pissed off that night after Fletcher warned him never to go near Lucy Sheridan again that he sort of lost it. He started making threats. When I left him there by the river he was practically frothing at the mouth. I decided I’d do my one good deed of a lifetime and warn Sara Sheridan that Lucy was in danger. But Brinker was gone by morning. I figured that in spite of all his bluster he really was scared of Fletcher.”
Warner looked dumbfounded. “You never told me any of this.”
“Why would I?” Quinn laughed. “You thought Brinker was a terrific role model for me, remember? You kept telling me how strong he was, how he would one day be a real force to be reckoned with in the business world. And maybe he would have been, if he had lived.” Quinn winked. “Between you and me, I always assumed that Fletcher was the one who punched Brinker’s ticket. Who knew Sara Sheridan had it in her?”
“I don’t believe any of this. You’re drunk, and you’re making up the whole story.”
“In that case, you probably don’t want to hear that your handpicked, high-priced CEO is screwing your new brood-mare wife, either.”
Warner stared at him. “Shut your damn drunken mouth.”
“Give me a break—everyone knows. Any heirs you get from her will have Cecil Dillon’s DNA. But it’s moot, anyway, because I doubt that Ashley has any intention of getting pregnant by either of you. She’s in this for the money, pure and simple. Big mistake on her part. But she’s smart enough to know when to cut her losses. As soon as she realizes that the merger is going to fail, she’ll grab the jewelry and the Porsche and disappear.”
“It’s not true.” Warner’s face was splotchy with rage. “None of it’s true. I swear, if you don’t stop talking like this—”
“You’ll do what?” Quinn slammed the glass down on his desk and surged to his feet. “Cut me out of your will? Go for it, Dad. Damned if I care.”
“You won’t walk away from Colfax Inc.,” Warner said again. But his voice was shaky now. “You’re mad because I didn’t let you take control of my company. But you didn’t deserve to take the helm of Colfax Inc. You were too weak to run the business.”
Quinn smiled. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t have the stomach for Colfax Inc. Good thing for me that I socked away a fair amount of cash six months ago when I started to get suspicious of those glowing company financials.”
“Glowing financials? What are you talking about?”
“Come off it, Dad. You know what they say in the investment world. If it looks too good to be true, it probably is too good to be true.”
“Are you saying you know something I don’t know about my business?”
“I’m telling you that I’m damn suspicious of Cecil Dillon and those incredibly good numbers he’s been producing for you these past few months. I’m also telling you that I’m damn sick of this job here at the winery. Which is why I’ll be handing in my resignation this afternoon.”