“There’s no way of telling what they are or who cloned them,” Megan said. “Not until they start producing fruit.”
Nico drummed his fingers on his knee a second before he burst to his feet and started pacing up and down the porch. “Fuck. You guys need to be moving faster. Toni, can’t you just do the brain… truth-serum thing you do?”
“It’s not that simple,” Toni said. “I have to make sure my abilities are working right. And I have to get close enough to a subject that they’ll let me touch them.”
Katherine said, “Do you have any remnants from the vines? Any leaves or branches left? I was going to try to focus my visions and see if I could do anything closer to what our friend Monica does in Glimmer Lake.”
“I can get you some branches,” Nico said. “Megan, what about you?”
She swallowed her mouthful of wine. “What about me? You have something you want me to destroy? Someone’s tasting room you want me to demolish? I might be willing to mess up Fairfield.”
Nico was frowning. “What? Why?”
Had she said that out loud? Oops. “Oh, just… ’cause.”
Katherine tapped Nico’s arm. “Megan found out today that her ex-husband is dating the woman who owns Fairfield Family Wines now. Her name is Angela—”
“Calvo,” Henry said. “Yeah, we know. Your ex is dating that lady?” Henry appeared to shiver. “Good luck with that one.”
“What do you think is wrong with her?” Katherine said. “She reminded me very much of Megan. Of course, she could be a sociopath.”
Megan blinked. “Excuse me?”
Katherine said, “Angela Calvo, I mean. She reminds me of you because she came across as very polite but business focused. I don’t think you’re a sociopath, Megan.”
“Thanks?” Megan wavered between amused and insulted, but it was Katherine, so she landed on amused.
The professor continued. “Calvo is traditionally beautiful and quite tall. I don’t know what the statistics are regarding traditional beauty and sociopathy. But it appears Rodney has a type.” She frowned. “I generally believe that romantic types are just a way of microtargeting attraction that our brain does subconsciously.”
Nico was staring at Katherine with an expression halfway between confusion and amusement. “Trust me, I’ve met Angela Calvo, and Megan is nothing like her,” he said. “Megan is smart but not conniving; she’s a great mom and looks out for the people she cares about. She’s loyal as hell and genuinely cares about serving her clients. Other than a few superficial things, they’re nothing alike. And I’m pretty sure Calvo’s had a nose job. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I guess. I’m just saying she’s not…” He looked around the group at everyone staring. “She’s just not much like Megan. That’s all.”
For the second time that night, Megan was feeling a little awkward. “Thanks?”
Katherine leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand. “You think very highly of Megan.”
Nico glanced at Megan, then pointed at Toni. “Everything I hear from people who’ve dealt with the Calvo woman tells me she’s not a good person, and Megan is. That’s all I’m saying.”
Megan felt forced to speak. “I keep hearing all this negative stuff about her too, but the woman I met mostly seems accomplished and educated. Maybe a little reserved? Some people probably find that intimidating. Her marketing for the winery is spot-on, even if it’s not the most ethical representation of the past.” She took a deep breath. “And she seems very nice too.” It was going to be weird not to have to make snarky jokes about her ex’s merry-go-round girlfriends. “She introduced herself to me, and I have to say I think people might be misjudging her.” The words nearly stuck in her throat, but what else could she say? Angela Calvo seemed perfectly nice. She couldn’t justify hating her just because she was dating Rodney. Besides, Angela had been engaged to Whit Fairfield. Maybe she had a blind spot when it came to love.
“Okay, sure.” Henry and Nico exchanged a look, and Nico shrugged.
“Getting back to our grapes,” Nico said, “did you get in touch with that friend of yours who can do the hand stuff?”
Megan looked at Toni. “Translation?”
“Okay. One, Nico you walked into so many jokes with that one. You’re lucky I’m not fifteen anymore. And two, I think he’s talking about Val.” Toni wiggled her fingers. “You know, touchy-touchy-feely stuff?”
“Oh right.” Megan looked at Nico. “I’m waiting to hear back from her. She’s got two kids and a business, so she’s pretty busy.”
“It’s been three days” —Nico leaned on a corner of the porch railing and braced his arms behind him— “and we officially have nothing? No suspects? No locations? Not even any hints?”
“We’ve eliminated a couple of people,” Toni said. “Which is more than you had before.”
“We’re not the police,” Megan said. “We told you this already. Didn’t you say that Detective Bisset is trying to track down what kind of truck it might have been? They got some tire tracks or something; is there any news on that?”
Henry said, “Not to be a pessimist, but chances are it was a regular old Chevy pickup. Probably a white extended cab with a toolbox and a trailer hitch.”
Megan frowned. “Like yours?”
“Like Henry’s and literally every other farmer between here and Santa Barbara,” Toni said. “Everyone has that truck.”
“Fine.” Megan threw up her hands. “We’ll keep visiting wineries, I guess. Hopefully Val can come down here before whatever trace energy left in the greenhouse is gone.”
“Stop acting like visiting wineries is a chore,” Nico said. “People go on vacation to do that shit.”
“It’s a chore when I can’t drink,” Toni muttered. “And I think I better stick to one winery a day, ladies.” Henry sat next to her and rubbed Toni’s hand. “I’m not feeling great tonight. I think doing a visit in the morning is about all I can manage.”
“Okay.” Megan and Katherine exchanged glances. “We can look into some other ones on our own too.”
“I put a graduate student on tracking down geological survey maps for all the growers we’re visiting,” Katherine said. “I’m trying to pinpoint which vineyards have the best soil for Poulsard grapes. I’ve eliminated quite a few possibilities already and identified others. For the record, the Fairfield winery has very little acreage that would be suitable for Poulsard grapes. Nico, would you like me to email the results so far?”
“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds great. Thank you.”
“It could be seeing a list of land owners might jog your memory too,” Megan said. “Help you think of other people who might have taken the vines. It occurred to me yesterday that there is no reason that a grower wouldn’t have taken them. It might be someone who sells their fruit to other wineries.”
Nico looked exhausted. “I hadn’t even thought about that part. You’re right. It might be someone completely on the production end.”