River Road(26)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“You really think one of them killed Sara and Mary, don’t you?”

“I’m not absolutely positive about that yet, but they all have motive, and the fact that Sara and Mary died just as the merger wars broke out within the Colfax family strikes me as too much of a coincidence.”

“Those Colfax shares are motive, all right,” he agreed. “But there’s something you need to keep in mind here—if there is a killer in this situation, he will be very pissed off right now. He miscalculated. He couldn’t have known that the shares would end up in your hands.”

“Or she,” Lucy said.

“What?”

“You referred to the killer as he. Women kill, too.”

He tightened his hands on the wheel. “Believe me, I’m well aware of that fact. The point is that in my experience, violent sociopaths who happen to be pissed off are dangerous people.”

“I know,” Lucy said. “But I owe this to Aunt Sara. She did what she believed she had to do to protect me thirteen years ago. I need to find out the truth about that car accident now.”

He did not say anything for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly.

“I understand,” he said.

She smiled faintly. “I know you do.”

She sat quietly, watching the road through the windshield. He could feel the determination coming off her in waves. Nothing was going to stop her. There was no point arguing with her.

He drove through the center of town, passing the little boutiques and the small, crowded restaurants that fronted the tree-shaded square.

“I did a little research of my own today,” he said after a while.

“What kind of research?”

“I looked into the Scorecard Rapist case. One of the theories at the time was that Brinker was not working alone.”

“He had an accomplice?”

“Maybe someone he brought in to watch. Maybe someone who filmed the rape.”

“Oh, crap. I never thought about the actual filmmaking,” Lucy said. “I suppose I just assumed that Brinker set up the camera ahead of time to record the rape.”

Mason shifted gears for the turn onto River Road.

“According to the reports I read, one of the detectives who worked the case and later retired left some notes saying that he was convinced he saw indications in at least some of the videos that there was another person in the room. Shadows, for the most part. The videos have all been taken down, so there’s no way to check.”

“What about the victims?”

“They were heavily drugged with some kind of hallucinogen. Their memories were unreliable. But a couple of them stated that they believed there was someone else present at the scene.”

Lucy folded her arms tightly beneath her br**sts. “Brinker was creepier than anyone realized. Did the cops ever pursue the second-person angle?”

“Yes, but they got nowhere. After Brinker disappeared, the videos stopped showing up online. The case got very cold very fast.”

“Do you think Chief Whitaker will reopen it?”

“No. The Scorecard Rapist operated down in the Bay Area, not here in Summer River.”

“Maybe Brinker intended me to be his first victim here.”

“If that’s true, his pattern was changing slightly. The other victims were all college age. You were still in high school at the time.”

“He wanted younger, even more vulnerable girls.”

“It’s possible. Serial ra**sts tend to escalate in terms of violence, just like serial killers. Whatever the case, I think Whitaker is satisfied with the scenario I gave him for Brinker’s death.”

“Brinker attacked Aunt Sara. She fought back, killed her assailant, and then hid the body because she was afraid that she would be arrested for murder.”

“There’s only one thing wrong with that theory of the crime. Sara definitely did not fit the profile of the other victims. Whitaker knows that, but I doubt he’ll push it. There’s nothing to be gained. It’s easier to take the credit for closing an old cold case.”

“But what if there was a second person involved?” Lucy said.

“Whitaker has more urgent cases to worry about.”

“And so do I,” Lucy said. “I need to find out what really happened to Sara and Mary.”

“We,” Mason said.

“What?”

“We need to find out what really happened to Sara and Mary. You’re not working that case alone.”

Lucy gave him a long, considering look. Then she smiled faintly.

“Thank you,” she said.

14

The Colfax Winery was an artful reproduction of an old-world Mediterranean villa. It sat on a tree-studded hillside and commanded views of the vineyards and the river. The birthday reception was held in the tasting room, a richly paneled space decorated in sunburnt hues of ocher and dark red. A wall of French doors had been opened to allow the party to spill out onto a broad terrace.

Lucy was not surprised by the size of the crowd. Warner Colfax and his family moved in elite wine-country social circles. An invitation to an event at his winery was a status symbol in the valley.

They were greeted by a smiling Jillian, who immediately steered them toward a middle-aged man dressed in a hand-tailored short-sleeved sports shirt and polished, country-club-style slacks. Wine-country casual for the male of the species, Lucy concluded.

“Have you met my father-in-law?” Jillian asked.

Her vivacious smile did not falter, but the tension that Lucy had detected that morning seemed to be permanently etched into the corners of Jillian’s eyes and mouth.

“No,” Lucy said.

“We move in different circles,” Mason added.

Jillian ignored his dry tone of voice and forged a path through the crowd. Warner Colfax was on the short side, bald and somewhat thick through the shoulders, chest and belly. But whatever he lacked in glamor was more than compensated for by the far younger, decidedly taller and quite beautiful woman at his side.

“That must be the new Mrs. Colfax,” Mason observed.

“Yes,” Jillian said. Her tone was glacial. “Ashley.”

Jillian brought them to a halt at the fringes of the small group gathered around Warner. She gave her father-in-law a brilliant smile.

“Warner, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she said, not sounding sorry at all, “but I wanted to make sure you knew that Lucy Sheridan and Mason Fletcher had arrived. We’re all so pleased they could make it tonight.”

Warner turned, and for the first time Lucy got a good look at him. He did not appear to be the suave, slick, sophisticated salesman that she had been expecting. Instead, he greeted her with an easy, disarming warmth. His gray eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of her, as if he was genuinely pleased to meet her.