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“But what?”
“Ownership of the winery?”
“Faith would have had to sign off on that,” I remind him.
“Thus, she was a problem,” he says. “Or more dangerous to his plan than her mother. He had Meredith pinned down but not Faith.”
“But the bills were not being paid,” I argue. “Meredith received a million dollars from my father and allowed a section of the vines to go untreated and therefore become damaged.”
He thrums his fingers on the counter. “Could she have been trying to get Faith to sell? You know, making it seem that the winery wasn’t worth owning?”
“Faith was working at the winery. She knew how well it was doing.”
“And yet the bills weren’t being paid?” he confirms.
“Correct,” I say, “and finally, after trying to get her mother to come clean with her about what was happening, and failing, Faith took action. She hired an attorney and tried to take the winery from her mother.”
“I can’t say that I blame her. What was her mother’s response?”
“She hired my father, who nickel-and-dimed Faith into giving up.”
“I’m not sure that disproves my theory about Meredith wanting her to sell. Did she ever directly ask Faith to sell?”
“My understanding,” I say, “is yes. But all of this gets more interesting. I paid the bank off. You know that. And they still plan to hold up the execution of Meredith’s will while they get the property appraised.”
“Ouch. That’s not good. They have to have a document that says if it’s under the value of the note, they can take it,” he agrees. “Which would make anyone who signed that agreement royally stupid, but it happens.”
“Obviously I get my own appraisal, but why would the bank want a property that is under the value of the note anyway?”
“And why would your father want it?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. “There’s something about that property. Something that got your father and her mother killed.”
“I agree wholeheartedly,” I say, sticking the note back in my briefcase. “And I’d get my bank to buy out her note, but obviously, the bank isn’t going to let that happen if they feel they may own it outright, and with some back-end benefit we don’t know about.”
“You can try,” he says. “But you’ll have to disclose the bank’s intent to have the property assessed.”
“Agreed,” I say, aware of the liability doing otherwise could incur.
“What does Faith think about all of this?”
“She doesn’t have the luxury of knowing that my father and her mother are linked to truly evaluate the situation as we do.”
“Tell her.”
“If I tell her, she kicks me to the curb and I can’t protect her.”
“Whatdoesshe know at this point?”
“She knows that my father represented her mother and that her mother was involved with him.”
“Well then. Both of them are dead and connected. Use that to convince her to exhume her mother’s body.”
“I’m not lying to her any more than I have to. And that plan would lead me to more lies.”
“Then just talk about her mother. Someone wants the winery. Her mother is dead. Have her do an autopsy.”
I shake my head and refill my coffee cup. “Negative again. I’m not putting her through that hell unless my father’s autopsy is suspicious. If there’s nothing to find in his reports, we won’t find anything in her mother’s.”
“While I agree,” he says, “time is critical when a killer is on the loose, and when does that killer turn to Faith or even you?”
