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My idea was ruined by the cold. So, I stepped away from the balcony and its voyeur appeal and back to the desk. I tugged out the mammoth chair and sank into the plush leather. I didn’t feel any bigger or more of an adult in the thing. Perhaps it only worked on big, strong men.

I rolled my eyes and set my champagne down on a stack of papers. His desk was shockingly messy. For someone who did so much business, I’d never understood how he was so unorganized. But maybe there was a method to the madness.

I flicked on a small desk light, just enough glow to see by, but not enough to alert anyone to my presence. I kicked my feet up onto the desk, leaning back in the big chair and tilting my head back. This night wasn’t what I’d thought it would be. I was glad that Chase and I were back on even footing. He still wanted more from me than I could give him, but he valued our friendship enough not to push.

I hoped.

With a melancholy sigh, I reached back out for my champagne.

“Fuck,” I gasped as the nearly empty glass toppled over, spilling its contents.

I jumped to my feet and floundered around for something to clean the mess with, but there was nothing. No towels or anything but my silk dress. And I just wasn’t ruining that for Arnold Sinclair’s paperwork.

I lifted the first few pages away from the wet and tried to flutter them back and forth so that they’d dry out. It really wasn’t that much alcohol, but enough for my presence to be known.

I arranged the wet paperwork out on the floor, hoping it would all dry out in the meantime. Which was when I actually looked at what was in front of me.

“What the hell?”

I dropped to my knees before the row of pages I’d splayed out on the floor to dry. The first was a map. A map I recognized because I’d seen it on Jordan’s dining room table while he worked. It was the map of Wright Vineyard.

The next was permit paperwork. I remembered Jordan complaining about it weeks ago. Somehow, it had expired, and a new one had had to be filed. Now, it was here…in Arnold Sinclair’s study.

Another page showed signed paperwork for an offer to buy a property. I squinted at the address, which had been mostly obscured by the champagne spill, but I had a pretty good idea where it belonged. The Sinclairs had made the counteroffer on the winery.

I rocked backward at the revelation.

The mystery of the ghost of the winery was solved.

The Sinclairs were the saboteurs.

37

Annie

Ten minutes later, the door creaked open to the office.

I jolted at the sudden interruption.

“I knew I’d find you in here,” Chase said.

He stopped with the door half-closed when he saw me on the ground, surrounded by paperwork.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

I jumped to my feet. “Did you know?”

“Know what?” he asked.

“Was it you?”

“Annie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He stepped deeper into the room. “What’s all this paperwork? Were you going through my dad’s things?”

“I spilled champagne on them on accident. I was airing them out.”

A half-truth. It had been the original purpose of putting them on the floor. The real reason was so that I could take photographs of all the evidence with my phone.

“Was that why you were on the floor?”

“Chase, tell me if you knew.”

“Perhaps you should elaborate.”

I shook my head. I’d gotten all the information I needed, and if Chase was involved, then I needed to get out of there. Being stuck upstairs with him was not high on my priority list.

“I’m going,” I said, pushing past him toward the door.

He grabbed my shoulder. His eyes full of alarm. “What’s the rush? What’s going on? Just talk to me, Annie.”

“You sabotaged the winery,” I snapped at him.

Confusion remained on his face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The winery!” I said, my anger getting the better of me. “You and your family tried to ruin the new winery venture by the Wrights.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Someone tried to sabotage the winery?”

“Just go look at the paperwork,” I said, throwing my hand toward the papers on the floor.

“Okay,” he said uncertainly. “Don’t leave yet.”

He stepped over to the paperwork and read through everything that I’d found. His confusion turned to dismay. Then he shook his head and looked back up at me. “I had nothing to do with any of this. I had no idea, Annie. I was in Houston for most of when this went down, judging by the dates.”

Which made sense, of course, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been playing me all along.

“And you just happened to come home in the middle of this?” I demanded.

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