How did he find out about the cameras? The staff gossiping, most likely.
“We haven’t met yet.”
“I can introduce you later—he makes excellent wine.” Antonella rarely got flustered, but Alexa had tipped her off balance today. “Not as good as Nolan’s, obviously, but we have many wonderful vineyards here in Amador County.”
“Of course,” Alexa said agreeably. “Is Roy a close friend of yours?”
“Not really, no. More of an acquaintance. Tell me, do you ride horses yourself?”
“I’m more of a cat person.”
No, she wasn’t. In Blackstone House, Ruby had adopted a scrawny stray named Shadow, and Alexa had bought the cat a fancy electronic litter box, a scratching post, and a water fountain, and put them as far away from her basement lair as possible. On the rare occasions the cat meandered into her room, she cursed and shooed it out again.
“Doesn’t Nolan have a dog?” Antonella asked.
Alexa laughed, but to Nolan’s ears, it sounded false. “It’s important to step out of my comfort zone occasionally. And didn’t you do the same? I hear you worked in New York for a while?”
Oh, fuck. Alexa had researched Antonella? Now she probably knew more about the woman’s life than Antonella herself did.
“Just for a few years. When I was growing up in a small town in South Carolina, I always dreamed of living in the big city, but when I got there, I couldn’t wait to move back to the country again.”
“The grass is always greener, huh? Well, maybe not here.” Alexa surveyed the yellowed pastures. “We could do with some more rain.”
There was no yellowing in the yard surrounding the house. The Cranstons’ landscapers watered the plants and trees religiously. Antonella gave them a tour—she always enjoyed showing off the fruits of her husband’s labour—and Alexa paid appropriate compliments while also getting in several snide digs about Marielle’s design skills. The digs weren’t necessary—Marielle might have revealed a less-than-stellar personality, but she knew how to decorate. Nolan bit his tongue while trying to get more information about the Hayes boys. Alexa was laser-focused on Marielle as the culprit for the sabotage, but Nolan wasn’t so sure. If all the “accidents” had in fact been deliberate, then the trouble had started before Alexa came back for her second visit, and what motive would Marielle have had to interfere in the wine production? Alexa said Marielle wanted Nolan’s attention, but she’d been his main focus back then, and every time shit happened in the winery, he had to go and deal with it.
Unless she wanted him out of the house for some reason?
But why?
Right now, they had a hundred questions, but no answers.
CHAPTER 22
ALEXA
Some things changed.
Some things stayed the same.
Some things hopped in a time machine and skipped back a whole decade.
Nolan put a bowl of risotto beside me, then perched on the edge of the enormous desk. I minimised the browser where I’d been researching Roy and Margaret Leland and the Silver Hollow Vineyard. Until Dionysus began winning awards, Roy had been the area’s golden boy, but reading between the lines, Margaret was the brains behind the operation. A wiry woman with a hawkish face, she was listed on the website as Production Manager, and in interviews with industry publications, it was she who proved knowledgeable about the technical aspects of winemaking while Roy boasted about high-profile customers and accolades.
I’d been checking out the Hayes family too, but they didn’t seem to spend much time online, which was spectacularly irritating. Yes, I had their tax records, their property information, yada yada yada, but none of those gave me an insight into their minds. They didn’t even have a smart TV I could hack.
“Do you want company?” Nolan asked.
I still wasn’t a fan of the polished walnut monstrosity, but when he’d set up my new desk—now with four legs—in the bedroom upstairs, the sun got in my eyes. And right now, he was too busy with wine stuff to dismantle furniture and rearrange things. I missed Chase. But I’d done the right thing by sending him to Japan because he needed that time at the dojo the way I needed to hack—it challenged him, energised him, gave him a boost that carried him through the next period of mundanity.
As always, I was playing the long game, and I played to win.
When I hired Chase Lindstrom, we’d both understood it would be a big commitment. On the move constantly, at my beck and call. Almost from the start, we’d made the arrangement more of a collaboration than a boss/employee relationship, and so far, it had worked out well for both of us. I got the interface between myself and the world at large that I desperately needed, and Chase got to travel on a generous budget. Whenever he needed a break, he parked me somewhere safe for a week or two, usually at Casa del Gato.
But now I had a new sanctuary.
An old friend by my side.
And a…boyfriend?
