“Uncle, Father, may I join you?” she asked, her voice even smoother than her brother’s had been.
“Please,” Alonzo invited. He glanced to the side and caught Juan’s eyes, inclining his head slightly. Juan stood and poured a glass of wine, handing it to Maria before sitting down again. He knew his brother had taught his son that a man should always pour a drink for a lady but sometimes wondered if all the lessons had taken hold with his nephew.
“You hadn’t mentioned that Cheryl’s aunt was still at the California estate,” Maria said, her face calm but her gaze darting between her father and brother.
Vincent’s brows lifted. “I thought she’d gone back to her home when we came here. Cheryl hasn’t mentioned anything.”
“I was checking on a few things with the California winery before dinner and also needed to speak to my assistant. I was informed that Maggie was still in the guesthouse. I was also informed that the new housekeeper for her was hired by Juan.”
Alonzo observed as Juan shot his sister a glare. “I simply wanted to make sure that Maggie was taken care of while we were gone.”
“My assistant said that the new housekeeper seemed to think she only reported to you, not the head housekeeper.”
“I… it was my intent to have someone independent with Maggie,” Juan bit out, loosening his tie.
“Do you have a particular concern with Cheryl’s aunt?” Alonzo asked.
Juan licked his lips. “She was overheard while visiting here expressing some concerns about the family’s money resources. She’s intelligent, inquisitive, and worth observation.”
Vincent startled, his gaze narrowing. “Be very careful, Son. I will not have Cheryl upset unnecessarily.”
“I quite agree, Father. That’s why I thought it best if she had someone to keep an eye on her while Cheryl enjoys having her aunt around. We would be able to monitor her activities and who she talks to.”
“Just how did you come about this information?” Maria asked, her perfectly arched brow lifting.
“One of the maids here overheard her.”
Alonzo hid his grimace. My employees are to report to me, not him. He had no doubt that it was someone Juan was sleeping with.
Juan continued, unaware of his uncle’s ire. “I have a contact that was more than willing to become Maggie’s housekeeper, someone loyal to me.”
“How do you plan on keeping an eye on Maggie when she leaves the estate once we return tomorrow?” Maria pressed, her lips tight.
“A little something in her drink will make her feel slightly indisposed. It will be easy enough to convince Cheryl that she should recuperate under our supervision.”
“You had her drugged?” Vincent asked, both brows now raised to his hairline, his voice low.
Juan lifted his hands in a placating manner. “Father, it’s fine, it’s fine. Just a little something that keeps her off-balance ever so slightly. It’s merely a way to keep her close and allow us to monitor her actions.”
Vincent nodded, his expression now relaxed. “Very good, Juan. You’re right about Cheryl and Maggie being able to enjoy each other’s company more. The last thing we would want is for Maggie to discuss speculations about the family business with anyone. There’s no need to upset Cheryl. She and I will be staying a few more days. You can keep an eye on her aunt.”
“Who was she talking to when she made speculations?” Alonzo asked, surprised that none of the others seemed to have considered that someone else might now have information that would need to be dealt with.
“Her nurse. The one that was here in Mexico with her.”
“She needs to be watched,” Alonzo stated. His word was law, even with his younger brother’s family.
“Of course, Uncle,” Juan rushed, nodding emphatically. “I’ll handle it personally.”
“Sometimes, Juan, you aren’t as smooth with the ladies as you think you are,” Maria said. Turning toward Alonzo, she added, “I’ll keep an eye on her, as well. It’ll be easier to gain her trust, woman to woman.”
Alonzo nodded his agreement, hiding his sigh. In some ways, the world was easier thirty years ago when Vincent and I battled our competition and proved to the cartels that we could provide the perfect conduit for the transporting of drugs to the United States. But then, we’d been poor and hungry for the available riches. Someone got in our way, we simply killed them. We ruled by brute force, slowly learning the civilized world of running a winery. He remembered the old wine grower who taught them everything they needed to know about the business but wasn’t willing to let them step in. And he could still remember the look of surprise on the old man’s face when Vincent’s knife had plunged into his gut. The winery became theirs. And so did the cartels' cover.
Glancing at his niece and nephew, he knew they’d never know that kind of hunger. Not the hunger that comes from an empty belly nor the hunger that comes from being willing to die to risk everything.
“You’ve grown quiet, Alonzo,” Vincent said.
“It’s a lovely night after dinner with my family. An excellent cigar. An exquisite wine.” The sound of the door opening again had him turn his head and smile. Pushing to a stand, he lifted his hand toward his beautiful wife. “And now, more lovely ladies to celebrate our evening with us.”
Cheryl walked toward them, and the family settled around the comfortable patio furniture, conversation congenial as they enjoyed the wine and watched the sun pass over the horizon.
8
The next day, Jeannie smiled as she pushed her cart in the grocery store, enjoying something she rarely had a chance to do: wandering the aisles slowly, considering various recipes and ingredients. Usually, her trips to the grocery store involved a rush through only the aisles that she’d memorized containing the items she had to have, grabbing them from the shelves, dodging other shoppers, and seeing how quickly she could get out considering she’d usually just worked a twelve-hour shift.
Having decided to take something to Maggie’s that afternoon, she meandered to the back corner bakery area, sniffing in appreciation the yeasty scent of freshly baked goods.
She felt her phone vibrate in her purse and, seeing Maggie’s name on the caller ID, answered quickly. “Hey, Maggie. I’m in the grocery trying to find something delightfully delicious and full of sinful calories for us to eat later.”
“Oh… dea… not well… you can… with…”
“Maggie? You’re breaking up. Hang on. Let me go to the front of the store where my reception will be better.” Leaving her cart in the bakery aisle, she hurried toward the front of the large store, glancing down at her phone as the call was dropped. Stepping just outside, she redialed Maggie’s number. She let it ring for a while, but Maggie didn’t answer. She tried several more times but had no luck. Finally, sending a text that let her know that she’d call her later, she hurried back into the grocery store to retrieve her cart.
Selecting several more items, she stood in the checkout line, the strange sense of foreboding filling her again. No longer enjoying her trip out, she tapped her foot anxiously as she waited for the cashier to bag her items. After paying and loading the bags into her car, she drove home, her joy nonexistent. Her phone vibrated again, and she snatched it from her purse, her heart leaping to see the text was from Maggie.