“The suitcase in the basement,” Quinn said. “The videos had probably deteriorated over time, but the notebooks would have been in good shape.”
“The videos were of no use to Dillon,” Mason said. “He wasn’t interested in small-time blackmail. But when he read the notebooks he knew that he had everything he needed to start plotting his revenge.”
A sharp, agonized look flashed across Jillian’s face. “What happened to the contents of the suitcase?”
“Dillon told the cops that he destroyed everything in the suitcase,” Mason said. “For what it’s worth, I’m inclined to believe him. So does Whitaker. Nothing showed up when the cops searched Dillon’s apartment and his office.”
Jillian bit her lip. Tears glittered in her eyes. “But there’s no way to be absolutely certain.”
Quinn reached out and caught her hand in his. “I told you, honey, it doesn’t matter. If those old videos ever reappear, we’ll deal with the situation.”
Jillian gave him a misty smile and tightened her grip on his hand.
Quinn looked at Mason. “I know Dillon. If he did keep the cache of blackmail materials, they would have been on his computer. He never let it out of his sight.”
“Which is where my brother, Aaron, comes in,” Mason said. “Whitaker asked Fletcher Consulting for a forensic analysis of Dillon’s computer. There was plenty of incriminating material, but it all related to concealing the financial disaster that Dillon had personally orchestrated inside Colfax Inc.”
“I knew he was up to something,” Quinn said. “I could feel it. But when I tried to talk to Dad about my concerns, he told me that he had a gut instinct when it came to identifying talent. He was convinced that Dillon was brilliant.”
“Dillon was every bit as good as his half-brother when it came to dazzling his victims with his charisma and charm,” Jillian said.
“A family talent, maybe,” Lucy said.
Mason looked at Jillian. “Aaron also did some poking around online. He couldn’t find any traces of the old videos.”
“But there’s no way to be certain, is there?” Jillian asked.
“No,” Quinn said. “But it doesn’t matter. You can’t give in to blackmail. If you do, there’s never any end to it. Just like you can’t give in to a dictator.” He grimaced. “Just ask me. When I think of all the years I tried to prove to my father that I was the man he wanted me to be—”
“Those days are over,” Jillian said.
He smiled at her. “Yes, they are.”
Lucy looked at Quinn and Jillian. “What happens now?”
“My father came to see me while I was cleaning out my office this morning,” Quinn said. “He’s still in shock, I think.”
Jillian sniffed. “Mostly at the realization that Quinn was the one who saved his life the other day.”
“Damned right you saved his ass, Quinn,” Mason said. “I would have tried a shot, but the odds of taking Dillon down before he stuck that old corkscrew into Warner’s throat were not great. Hell, I might have hit your father instead, for that matter. Or you, because you were right behind both of them. Dillon was bent on a final act of revenge, and that kind of obsession is hard to shut down when the avenger loses his self-control.”
Quinn shrugged that off. “Dad made it clear that he’s going to file for divorce from the brood—I mean, Ashley—and devote himself to rebuilding Colfax Inc. I wished him well. He offered to put me in charge of the winery.”
Jillian looked disgusted. “Warner assumed it was an offer that Quinn couldn’t, or wouldn’t, refuse.”
“I declined,” Quinn said. “Which infuriated the old man, because it puts him in a bind. He knows he can’t successfully revive the company and pay full attention to the winery. He’ll have to choose, and he knows it. I’m betting he’ll sell the winery.”
“Quinn and I have some plans of our own,” Jillian said. “We’re going to sell some of the properties we’ve acquired here in the valley during the past few years, thanks to Nolan Kelly’s advice and the inheritance from Aunt Mary. We’ll use the cash to buy and renovate the old Harvest Gold Inn on the square. We’re going to turn it into a real wine-country destination, complete with a spa.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned working at Colfax wines, it’s how to market the wine-country image and lifestyle,” Quinn said. “I can put the inn on the map.”
Lucy looked at Quinn. “At a rough estimate, what do you think my aunt’s old apple orchard is worth?”
Quinn gave her the number.
“Oh, my,” Lucy said. She smiled. “I guess Kelly wasn’t trying to con me after all.”
“No,” Quinn said. “Nolan was a damned good real estate agent.”
“What about the shares in Colfax Inc.?” Deke asked.
“They aren’t worth much at the moment,” Quinn said, “but my dad is very, very good at investing. If anyone can salvage the company, he can. I’d suggest that you hang on to them.”
“No,” Lucy said. “I’m going to give them to you. Those shares are your problem now.”
51
Three days later, Mason suggested a weekend at the coast. This time neither of them smuggled a few personal items into the car. Instead, there were two small overnight bags in the trunk.
Mason drove. They took the main highway this time. Neither of them suggested a detour past the site of the old commune and the treacherous stretch of road where Sara and Mary had been killed.
The purpose of the trip was not to revisit the scene of the murder, Lucy thought.
This is all about us.
She knew that she and Mason were both searching for the way forward. Nevertheless, for the duration of the drive, they managed to talk about everything except their relationship.
The morning fog had burned off by the time they crested the last of the hills and saw the long stretch of rugged coastline. Mason parked the car on the bluffs above a beach. They climbed out, put on windbreakers and sunglasses and made their way down to the water’s edge. Lucy was still moving gingerly because of the cut on her foot, but she made it down to the beach with a little help from Mason.
Sunlight sparked and flashed on the water. A crisp breeze tangled Lucy’s hair. When Mason reached for her hand, she gave it to him without hesitation. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong. They walked for a time, not speaking. The relentless roar of the waves crashing on the rocky shore made conversation unnecessary.