Erica Spindler - Blood Vines

“I’m going now. Don’t follow me.”

She meant it, Alex realized, watching as Rachel walked away. She had to stop her. Had to find a way.

“What about the vines?” she called after her, sounding as desperate as she felt. “What about your wines, your legacy?”

Rachel didn’t answer. The bobbling beam of the flashlight disappeared from sight. Alex counted to ten and started after her-same as she had all those years ago.

She moved as quickly and quietly as she could, forgoing the flashlight for stealth. Her heart pounded, but not with fear this time, with determination.

She wouldn’t let Rachel do this.

Up ahead, she heard Rachel at the cave entrance. Heard the creak of the gate closing and the clank of the chain and padlock.

Rachel was locking her inside the cave.

Alex snapped on the flashlight and ran. She was too late. Rachel had fastened the gate. She stood waiting for Alex, expression apologetic.

“They’ll find you in the morning,” she said. “Don’t be scared.”

“Please, think this through, Rachel. Please, don’t-”

“I’ve spent my whole life thinking this through.”

“Rachel-” Alex reached through the metal rails. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Before I go, I have to tell you something. That baby brush, I have one just like it.”

“What? You-”

“Wayne Reed’s not your father.” Rachel caught her hand, brought it to her mouth, kissed it. “Goodbye, Alex.”

Wednesday, March 17

10:30 P.M.

They’d located Alex’s car. The Rohnert Park Walmart parking lot. A search of the store had produced no sign of her; they were in the process of getting the store’s security tapes.

Reed shown his flashlight inside the Prius. No sign of a struggle. No left behind articles that might suggest a criminal act. No shopping bags.

He didn’t like this. His earlier presumption that she’d bolted felt wrong. All along he’d seesawed between suspecting she was behind events and worrying she was in danger from them. The seesaw had just tipped-he feared for her safety.

Reed looked at the deputy who had called it in, working to keep his cool. “Report.”

“Doing a routine sweep. Recognized the car from the Alert, checked the plate number to confirm, then called it in. Performed the same check as you.”

Tanner and Saacks arrived. They climbed out and crossed to him. “You have a visitor.” Tanner motioned to the car. “Your brother Joe. Came to the Barn looking for you. Says it’s about Clarkson and what’s going on. Wouldn’t talk to us.”

Reed’s heart seemed to stop. He nodded and headed for the car; Joe stepped out as he reached it. His normally pressed and creased brother was a mess. “I don’t want to talk to them,” Joe said, motioning to Tanner and Saacks. “Just you.”

“Can’t help you there, Big Brother. We’re a package deal.”

“Forget it then. I’m not talking.”

Reed snapped. “No problem. Because I’ll haul your ass in and book you for obstruction, which is a felony. And then you’ll talk, only it’ll be in a nine by twelve windowless room with a lock on the door. Don’t test me, Brother.”

Joe paled. He moved his gaze from Reed to the other detectives and back. He looked like he might puke. “It’s about that night. The night Dylan disappeared. We raped her. We raped… Rachel.”

Standing in the middle of a Walmart parking lot, Reed could have heard a pin drop. His brother dragged a hand through his thinning hair, the movement jerky. “I didn’t. I… couldn’t. I ran away. But the others-”

“Who?” Tanner demanded.

“Clark and Tom. Spanky and Terry.

“I ran, but I didn’t do anything to stop them. I didn’t go for help. Nothing.”

He hung his head. Reed gazed at him, feeling nothing but contempt. “Where?”

“The Sommer place. Outside the wine cave.”

Reed and Tanner exchanged glances. “The night Dylan disappeared.”

“Yes, he was there. Rachel had him. He was crying.”

Reed felt sick to his stomach. “What about Alex?”

“Didn’t see her.”

Tanner’s cell phone went off. She checked the display, then excused herself.

“Did you go to Dad, tell him any of this?”

He shook his head. “Never told anyone. Until now.” He started to cry. “All these years, I’ve hated myself… that I let them do that to her.” He lifted his gaze to Reed’s, expression pleading. “But she turned out okay. Right, Reed? She’s good.”

“That was Cal,” Tanner said, returning to their sides. “He heard back from the Ashton-Drake people. The two dolls, they both belonged to Rachel Sommer.”

Reed realized two things simultaneously-they combined to take his breath away: Rachel was definitely not okay and worse, Alex was with her.

Wednesday, March 17

10:55 P.M.

“No! Rachel, come back here! Help! Help! Somebody!” Alex grabbed the gate and shook it. “Dammit, Rachel!”

Her voice caught on the night air, was lifted and dispersed. She kept calling out anyway, until she was hoarse. Throat raw and voice gone, she shone her flashlight toward the main house, flipping it on and off.

A figured emerged from the path, hurrying toward her.

Treven, she saw. She cried out in relief. “Thank God-”

“Alexandra, what are you-”

“She’s gone to kill Clark! We have to stop her!”

“Kill Clark?” He fumbled with the locks. “Who?”

“Rachel. She has a gun.”

He got the padlock open, then the gate. “That’s crazy. Why would Rachel-”

“He raped her. The night Dylan disappeared.”

He looked at her as if she had sprouted horns. “That’s insane. I don’t know what you think you’re doing but-”

“Trying to save your son’s life! Where is he?”

“I’m calling the police.”

“Good. Yes, call them.” She grabbed his arm. “But by the time they get here, it may be too late. Do you know where Clark is?”

He gazed steadily at her, as if sizing her up, weighing his options.

She tightened her grip on his arm. “I remember everything, Treven. About that night. What was going on. I was there! I’d repressed it all… Rachel helped me remember. That’s how she learned that Clark was-”

He shook off her hand. “I stood up for you. When Reed and others called you crazy. But now, you’re calling my son-”

“Where is he! Home? Out somewhere? All Rachel would have to do is call him, ask to meet, say it was an emergency.”

She was getting through to him, Alex saw. She lowered her voice. “What do you have to lose by believing me?”

“He’s here,” Treven said. “In his office.”

Alex started to run. Treven with her. Light shone from the winery offices. In the parking area beyond, Treven’s BMW and Rachel’s Infiniti were parked, side by side.

They reached the building’s entrance, found it unlocked. “This way,” Treven said. They started forward; a shot rang out.

“No!” Alex cried and ran.

She reached the office and stopped dead. She was too late. Clark lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, a pool of blood slowly spreading around him.

“Clark!” Treven cried, rushing to his son’s side. He bent and checked his pulse, then looked up at Rachel’s stricken face. “He’s dead. You killed him.”

“I had to do it, Uncle Treven. Don’t you see?”

“Give me the gun, Rachel.” He stood and crossed carefully toward her, hand out.

“He raped me, Uncle Treven. And tonight, he laughed about it. He said-”

“Give me the gun.”

“He called me stupid. And weak.”

Treven took the weapon from her and Rachel slumped against him, crying. He looked at Alex. “Close the door, would you?”