“That was only partially me.” Callie sighed. “My brother had this strange idea that if Gabe either got fired from Stone Bridge Winery or was somehow involved in a scandal, we’d be able to scoop him up, and he could be our vintner. I thought that was ridiculous. Gabe would never. He’d become a garbage collector before that happened. I came up with the idea that you were working together. Scamming us for the inheritance. Scamming the Boones with forgeries.”
“That’s insane.” Emery couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It had to be the most convoluted story she’d ever heard. It was absurd. It bordered on lunacy.
“Is it, though?” Callie leaned closer, pressing her hand on the carpet of the SUV. “This entire valley is built on family legacy. My family’s winery, the Boones’, they go back three generations, as do others. Gabe’s grandfather was a criminal. Hired muscle who murdered one of his employers over gossip.” She tapped her fingers against the carpet. “Your father is being investigated for fraud. It’s only a matter of time before charges are brought. Both you and Gabe are simply repeating history, and all it takes is a few whispers in the vines to make it true.”
Callie had come unhinged. She’d lost her mind.
Emery’s breath came in shallow pants. Her heart raced. Her mind played all the events like a movie loop—in fast forward. They whizzed by, only allowing her to catch glimpses of the horror.
But it was enough to remind her that Callie was not only nuts but also dangerous.
"You tried to kill me."
“That wasn’t me.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “That was him. Turns out, you're surprisingly hard to kill."
“And this conversation needs to end.” The man who had been leaning against the car, with his arms folded, saying absolutely nothing, had pushed from that position and stood at the opening of the SUV. “I need to get me and her out of here, or she becomes solely your problem.”
“Just a few more moments,” Callie said in that sweet, but annoying voice that was one octave too high to be anything other than fake.
“You’ve got five minutes,” the man said. “I’m not risking my freedom for this paycheck.”
Callie shifted her gaze back to Emery. “I’ve been trying to figure out what you have that I don’t, because it doesn’t make sense.”
“What are you talking about?” Emery asked.
“You and Devon,” Callie said, as if the words tasted bitter, and she needed to spit them out. “He doesn’t do drama. He hates it. Avoids it all costs. So, why is he still with you? It’s not your good looks, because you’re average. You don’t have money, though, he doesn’t need any. I can’t imagine you’re all that great in bed.”
“This is about Devon?” Emery's wrists burned where she pulled against the zip ties. “Not about me possibly being an heir?”
“Winston only wanted you gone. All he cared about was making sure the three months passed for the heir to be made known. After that, he didn’t care what you did or where you worked. But the problem was we didn’t know our dad was going to die or that you’d come back to Stone Bridge. Oncethat happened, your adoption, your birthday, your connection to this valley—it was only a matter of time before someone put it together." Callie scooted to the edge of the hatch and stood. "And there is no way I'm letting you take even a portion of my family fortune. Being the bastard kid of my father's indiscretion doesn't make you an heir. It makes you a mistake that should have stayed buried."
"Your mother hired an investigator?—"
"My mother's a sentimental fool who thinks family is more important than money. She wanted to find you, to welcome you with open arms, to split everything three ways like we're all one big happy family." Callie's voice dripped venom. "But I'm not sharing the Callaway fortune. Not with you. Not with anyone." Callie's expression shifted, something predatory sliding across her features. Cold. Calculating. Malicious. “And Devon's mine. Always has been, always will be. You were just a distraction. But once you're gone, once you've 'disappeared' after sending that sweet little email about needing space—I'll be there to help him pick up the pieces. Console him. Remind him that I'm the one who's always been there."
"You're insane."
"I'm practical." Callie sat back. "You disappear. The will's clock runs out. Winston and I split everything. Devon eventually moves on—with me. Everyone wins."
"They're onto you," Emery said. "The police, Devon's family, everyone. Even if you kill me, you're going down for this."
"Am I?" Callie's smile didn't waver. “Thanks to my brother, all the evidence points to poor, jealous Gabe. His guns, his emails, his motive."
“I don’t understand. You said you tried to make it look like we were working together.” The question burst out.
Callie leaned closer, and Emery could smell her perfume—expensive, cloying. “We had to give my mother a distraction.She was salivating over the possibility that he was an heir when that photo surfaced. But then we show her how he might have been sabotaging you—or maybe working with you—and she’ll be ready to call off the search. Besides, I don’t like Gabe. Devon listens to him too much. Respects his opinion in areas where he should be listening to me.”
“You sent those emails to that reporter,” Emery said as fact.
Callie shrugged.
"You're destroying an innocent man's life."
"Collateral damage." Callie shrugged. "Now, I think we're done here. Time for you to go take your final drive with?—"
Sirens. Distant but growing closer.
The man pacing in the lot paused and stared at Callie. "No. No, I'm not getting caught. I'm not going down for this."
