Have to cancel plans. Sorry. Will call soon.
Something’s not right. She’d received other texts from Maggie and found her to always be verbose even when not feeling her best. Standing in her small kitchen, she leaned her hip against the counter, eyes still on her phone screen as though the answers to what was going on with Maggie would suddenly appear.
Pressing the call button, she let it ring for a long time before disconnecting. Still staring at the screen, she hit the buttons again. Her heart leaped when the call connected, then her body jerked at the sound of the weak voice.
“Maggie?”
“Yes…”
“This is Jeannie.”
“Jeannie?”
Maggie sounded like she didn’t recognize who she was. “Yes, Jeannie Carnes. I was just with you yesterday.”
“Oh… yes… Jeannie. I’m sorry…”
“Maggie, what’s wrong? I’ll leave right now and come straight to the winery.” She reached for her keys and purse still lying on the kitchen counter.
Suddenly, a voice that was not Maggie’s came across the line. “Hello?”
“Hello? I was talking to Maggie Collins. Who is this?”
“Oh, hi. This is Penny.”
Startling again, she asked, “Where’s Maggie? I’d like to speak to her, please.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie isn’t feeling well.”
“I was just talking to her. Please hand the phone back to her.”
“She’s resting in her room.”
Before she had a chance to ask any more questions, she could hear voices in the background. Jeannie’s body vibrated with a combination of irritation and concern. “Then take the phone to her room and let me speak to her.”
The voices quieted and Penny said, “I have to go. You don’t need to call again. Maggie is in good hands.”
The call disconnected, but Jeannie continued to stare at her blank phone screen, incredulity creeping throughout her.
The afternoon passed into evening, but instead of calming, her resolve to find out what was going on simply increased. She’d tried calling one other time, but Maggie’s phone rang and no one ever picked up. She didn’t have Cheryl’s number and realized how foolish it was not to have that as a backup. She tried calling the winery but was only able to leave a message.
Feeling desperate and not able to think of an alternate plan, she decided to drive to the estate and demand that someone let her talk to Maggie or Cheryl. Dressed in jeans, a navy T-shirt, and sneakers, she braided her hair, tossing it over her shoulder to hang down her back to keep it out of her face. She had no idea how to approach the guardhouse at night. I can’t go crashing in like some superhero. Hoping a plan would come to her once she got there, she climbed into her car and headed north, glad the traffic was not heavy. She turned on the radio, switching stations until she finally gave up attempting to find a way to calm her mind.
Carson slipped through the hills at the back of Vincent Garza’s winery, the images eerily similar to Vincent’s brother Alonzo’s winery in Mexico. Carson had not gone on this mission when his Keepers first set up surveillance, but since the intel they’d monitored indicated that there were trucks inside with ever-changing tags and logos on the sides, they wanted a closer look. Vincent’s family had returned to the estate today, but Carson didn’t want to wait until their next trip to Mexico.
“Fuckin’ nuts that the DEA can’t do this, boss,” Dolby said over the radio. “Shouldn’t Dave be all over this?”
“Hell, they don’t have carte blanche to do what we do,” Rick replied. “They’ve got limited funds to get after these fuckers.”
“Coming around the side to the front,” Carson radioed. “I’ll watch the guardhouse, lawn, and area between main house and vineyard. Let me know when you’re in position.”
“Copy that,” Dolby said. “I shouldn’t have any problem getting eyes on the two trucks that are down here.”
With night-vision goggles in use, Carson had a perfect view of the side of the mansion, the back lawn that extended down past the pool and guesthouse, and, to his left, the expansive lawn and gardens that curved around toward the guardhouse at the main gate. The public part of the winery had its own entrance as did the winery barns where the trucks they wanted to investigate entered and left. Another smaller guardhouse was off the secondary road leading to a maze of small roads inside the estate.
The security Vincent hired seemed every bit as lackadaisical when he was in residence as Alonzo’s security. The man in the closest guardhouse that Carson spied as he sneaked past was older, quite possibly snoozing on the job.
A car drove down the main road passing the winery but didn’t turn in toward the guardhouse, instead continuing its way slowly. The speed appeared erratic, and he shifted his stance to keep an eye on the vehicle. The car’s headlights turned off, but it continued its path on the road, the crunch of gravel underneath the tires indicating when it veered slightly off the road. What the fuck? Are they drunk?
The engine cut off, and he heard the car door open and close. Because it was parked behind a hedge, he was unable to catch a glimpse of the driver.
“I’m changing positions to get a visual on a possible intruder. Continue with mission. I’ll ascertain threat and stop if needed. Last thing we want is some drunk employee or thief to set off their alarms.”
“Copy that,” Dolby and Rick both responded.
Moving amongst the shadows, Carson made his way through the gardens, coming closer to the intruder. It was easy to see they were female, with no attempt to hide their shape in the T-shirt or tight jeans. He watched as she stood on her tiptoes to peer over the hedge then squatted down before standing up and repeating the action. She turned and walked several feet toward her car then stopped, bounced on her toes for a moment, then whirled around and bent over to jog back to the hedge where she peered over it again.
Watching the bizarre movements in front of him, Carson’s brow lowered as he tried to figure out what the fuck she was doing. What the hell? Fuckin’ amateur! If the woman was trying to get to the main house to steal something, she had no chance of doing so without setting off the winery’s alarms.
“Got an eye on the intruder?” Rick’s voice came over the radio.
“Female. Indecisive. No clue what they’re doing. Not professional.”
“You gotta be kidding. Are they drunk?”
“They don’t seem to be. But I’ve got no choice but to deal with them, or they’ll stumble into every fuckin’ alarm Garza has here.”
He moved stealthily toward the hedge, positioning himself to take her down and knock her out with a carotid choke hold. Suddenly, the woman bent low and began running by the edge of the lawn. Catching her off-guard, he made a diving tackle, one arm banding around her middle and the other hand clamping tightly over her mouth as he twisted in midair, landing on his back before rolling so that his weight pressed her down into the grass. She tried an impressive evasive maneuver, but he quickly overpowered her.
His body lay completely on top of hers, his weight keeping her immobile and his legs trapping hers. Her eyes were wide, fear streaking through them as she stared up, and recognition slammed into him. Holy shit! Jeannie Carnes. A dozen questions shot through his mind, but hot anger blasted each one before he could think of an answer.