2 Crushed (11 page)

Loren hopped down beside her and
adjusted the cap on his head. His hair was long and jet black like the feathers
of a crow. He pushed it away from his face. “How’s it feel being chief today?”
he asked. “A little nervous about making your first batch of firewater for the
Fredrickson label?” Loren bragged that he was full-blood Karok Indian, but he
sounded more like Hollywood’s version of an Apache in a 1960’s movie.

“I think I can handle it,” she
said. She yawned widely, suddenly feeling her lack of sleep. “I just need a
large dose of caffeine in my bloodstream first. When Adam gets the trailer
emptied, tell him I went inside to get coffee.”

“Will do, Chief.”

She started for the winery, but
stopped and turned around. “Loren, when you were over at the other field, did
you happen to see Davy and Pablo?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yep. They were there.
At least the first time. I don’t remember seeing Davy the last time I picked
up, but he may have still been filling his bin.”

“Thanks.” She shook her head. “I
know I shouldn’t worry. There are a dozen people around.” She didn’t add that
her father had freaked her out the other night with his nocturnal visit and she
hadn’t let Davy out of her sight since.

He raised his arm up to the sky and
spread his fingers as though peering through them. “Morning sun race across
sky. Boys run home filled with hunger.” He sniffed the air. “Mmm, Sally cooking
sausage links and French toast.”

“You are quite the prognosticator.”

“I was taught at my
great-grandfather’s campfire, many moons ago.” He grinned and waved her off.
“Go. Have coffee with the squaws. Men will take care of things here.”

Sally was busy in the tasting room
ordering the caterers around. She saw Margaret come in and waved her over,
still speaking to a young blonde woman with a huge metal serving dish in her hands.
The woman finally moved past her and set it on the table in a heated
compartment. Sally frowned and adjusted the temperature before moving toward
her.

“I told them the crew probably
wouldn’t be in for another hour, but they want to get out of here. Apparently,
they have another gig that pays a heck of a lot more than we do.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll be
straggling in here a few at a time any minute now. I need caffeine.”

Sally pointed to the beverage
table. “Coffee, tea, or soda. Pick your poison.”

Margaret filled a thermal paper cup
with thick, black coffee and snapped a plastic lid on top. She took a careful
sip of the steaming liquid. “I think that’s dark enough to grow hair on Davy’s
soccer ball.”

Sally laughed. “Want to make sure
everybody stays alert.”

“Hey, Loren’s out there,” she said,
keeping her tone casual. Everybody knew they belonged together like salsa and
chips, but neither would make the first move. “He’s just getting ready to go
back out to the field. Maybe you should ride along. Keep him company.”

Sally actually turned pink at the
suggestion, clashing with her red hair. “I don’t have time for that. I’ve got
to make sure everybody gets fed and the food stays hot,” she said, moving back
toward the serving tables.

“Really? Cause if I were you, I’d
take a ride on Loren’s tractor and watch the sun come up. You can’t beat a
romantic sunrise viewed from the seat of a tractor with a handsome Indian.”

Sally glared at her. “What is going
on?” she demanded. “Did he put you up to this?”

“Nope. This was all me. Everybody
knows how you feel about him and how he feels about you. Isn’t it about time
you two got together and had a powwow?” She took her coffee and went back
outside, leaving Sally standing motionless, unable to think of a thing to say for
once in her life.

Adam caught Margaret’s eye and
strode toward her, a smile lighting his eyes. “There you are.” He took the cup
out of her hand and took a drink. “Ow, that’s hot!”

“No kidding.” She took it back and
pulled the lid off so it could cool faster. “Has Sammie showed up with another
load yet?”

He hooked a thumb over his
shoulder. “He’s back there now. I emptied his trailer already. He was talking
to Mario.”

“Mario’s here?”

“Yeah, he drove up in the pickup.
Said he was looking for Pablo. Apparently, the boys took off.” He saw a shadow
of fear climb her face like a storm cloud. “Don’t worry. They probably just got
bored and thought it would be cool to play tag in the dark or something.”

She shook her head. “He promised me
that he would work hard and stay put. He wouldn’t run off without permission.”

“Okay. We’ll find him.” He turned
and saw Mario heading toward the sheds. He waved him over. “Mario! Over here.”

The man hesitated, then turned and
headed in their direction. A bright yellow bandana was tied around his head and
he pulled it off to wipe at his face. “Miss Parker,” he greeted, with a nod of
his head.

“Mario, Adam said the boys are
missing. How long has it been since anyone saw them?”

He rubbed at his neck. “Maybe…,” he
shrugged, “dos horas.”

“Two hours? And no one looked for
them?”

The man shook his head. “The men
were working.”

“All right,” Adam interrupted.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. Mario, go out and round everybody up for
breakfast. Margaret and I will search the winery and the outbuildings. I’m sure
they’re either hiding in the vineyard somewhere to keep from getting punished,
or they’re off playing and don’t realize what time it is.” He put his arm
around her and squeezed. “We’ll find them.”

Mario hesitated, whether unsure
about following Adam’s lead or confused by the language barrier, she wasn’t
sure. Finally he met her eyes. “Pablo’s a good boy. No problema.”

“It’s not your fault, Mario. Go
ahead and call everybody in for breakfast. The boys will show up. They’re bound
to be hungry,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

*****

 
Adam couldn’t think of anywhere else to
search. Every shed, outbuilding, cellar and barrel room, even Billie’s house
had been gone through. Mario had driven one of the pickups around the vineyard and
called out their names over and over until his voice was hoarse. No one had
noticed the boys since around three o’clock in the morning when they were seen
working together to carry one heaped-to-overflowing bin to the trailer and had
gone back down the row for the second. No one remembered if they returned.

“We were still on the backside of
the Merlot then,” said a chubby young man with a ring in his nose. “You don’t
suppose they would wander back to the canal? That thing can be treacherous.
Kids drown in there every year.”

Adam was glad Margaret had gone
inside to call Handel, because he didn’t want her hearing that, but as a
mother, her thoughts had probably already gone in that direction. He turned
around and saw her hurrying out of the winery with Billie following close
behind. His sister caught his eye and waved him over.

“Thanks for your help, but there’s
nothing more you can do right now, so get back to the field and we’ll let you
know when we find the boys,” Adam said to the men who had been pulled from
their jobs to help in the search. “Billie needs everyone doing their job right
now.”

The men wandered back to the
trucks, and prepared to return to the fields. He saw Sammie starting up the
tractor and Loren moving toward his.

He hurried over where Billie now
stood beside Margaret’s car, leaning over the open door, speaking to her in a
quiet voice. Margaret’s face was ashen. She sat in the driver’s seat and
gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles had turned white. Billie stepped away
when she saw him, and he leaned down beside Margaret, one hand on the roof of
the car.

“Meg, where are you going?”

“Maybe he went home.” She looked
up, her eyes damp with unshed tears. “He used to hide in his closet and camp
out. Maybe he’s there.”

“Let me go with you. I’ll help you
look.”

“That’s a good idea, Margaret. Take
Adam with you,” Billie said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “When Handel
shows up here I’ll let him know where you are.”

Margaret shook her head, her gaze
catching the winery returning to full motion in the rearview mirror. “No, you
need Adam here. Everyone has a job to do. The winery can’t just shut down
because of two wayward boys. I’m sorry that I’m not living up to my job
description today. But I don’t want to pull anyone else away.”

“I don’t care about the wine,”
Billie said, meeting Margaret’s eye. “I care about Davy and Pablo. Adam will go
with you. The sooner you find the boys, the sooner everyone can get back to
work.”

She didn’t argue. Adam straightened
and kissed Billie on the cheek. “We’ll find them,” he said, and hurried around
the car to climb in the other side.

Margaret put the car into gear and
drove down the long gravel drive to the highway. An indigo blue sky stretched
cloudless above them, the sun already warm enough to negate the need of a
sweatshirt. Adam shrugged out of his and threw it into the backseat. He rested
his hand on her shoulder, but didn’t say anything until they pulled up before
the Parker house. The shades were still drawn since they’d risen in the middle
of the night. Margaret reached up to the visor to press the garage door remote.

“My remote’s gone,” she said,
looking at him as though the world suddenly turned upside down and nothing made
sense.

He looked around on the floor of
the car and under the seats, then opened the glove box, but found nothing.
“Okay, I guess you’ll have to go in the front door.”

“But where is my remote?”

He shrugged and climbed out of the
car. “Why don’t you check out the house and I’ll look around outside. Is your
shed locked?”

She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t
have a lock. Davy never goes in there. It’s full of cobwebs and old equipment,”
she said, moving up the steps to the front door.

She selected the key on her
keychain and stuck it in the lock. The door moved inward before she even turned
the key. She jumped back as though she’d seen a ghost. “Adam…”

He hurried up the steps and moved
past her to go in first, glancing down the hallway and into the living room,
before inching his way toward the kitchen, his ears attuned to the slightest sound.
The tennis shoes he wore made a slight scritching sound against the ceramic
tile. He must have a piece of gravel lodged in a groove. The lights were still
off in the house and with the drapes pulled the sun wasn’t able to chase away
the gloom. He neared the sliding door and heard the crunch of glass beneath his
shoes before he noticed a jagged hole in the glass panel of the slider.

She was right behind him. “Someone
broke my door!”

“This is where they got in. Must
have gone out the front. Someone knew you would be gone to the winery and
decided to do a little breaking and entering. You better check to see what’s
missing,” he said, looking around for whatever was thrown through the window.
He didn’t find anything.

“The gun!” she suddenly yelled and
went flying from the room.

He followed her to the kitchen and
flipped on the light. She grabbed a chair, dragged it over to the refrigerator,
stepped up on it, and reached over the decorative edge of the upper cupboards.
She pulled the box closer and lifted it down. “Thank God, it’s still here,” she
said, her face relaxing into a smile as she turned to face him.

“Glad to hear it.”

She stepped off the chair and
carried the box to the table. She lifted the lid and her face fell. “It’s
gone.”

“What?” He looked inside. There was
a jagged, fist-sized rock placed in the box where the gun once resided. “Well,
we’ve found the break-in tool. Someone is playing games with us.”

She met his gaze. “My father. He’s
the only one that would know about the hidden ledge above the cupboard.”

“Would he take Davy as well?” he
asked. The circumstances were too coincidental. The boys disappeared around the
same time that Margaret’s house was broken into and her gun stolen. What were
the chances of that happening unless it was all part of some sick plan by Sean
Parker to get even?

They both heard the sound of a car
pull up outside and a door slam shut. A moment later Handel hurried through the
open front door and into the kitchen, but stopped at sight of the box. “Why are
you getting out the gun?” he said, looking from Margaret to Adam and back
again. His face was tense, either from driving at break-neck speed to get home
or at the knowledge that Davy was missing—probably both.

“It’s gone. He took it,” she said.

“Who took it?”

Adam felt a little awkward being in
the room while they discussed their father, so he moved toward the garage.
“I’ll go check the shed and around the house for signs of the boys.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but
went through the access door and pushed the button for the garage door to open.
The door slowly lifted in a jerky fashion, the hinges groaning like they were
in pain. Or was it the hinges? He turned around. The cellar door was propped
open. Splintered wood lay scattered like matchsticks over the cement floor. He
bent down and inspected the door. The wood was splintered and cracked along the
edge. The padlock Margaret used to secure it was still attached to the latch,
but the latch was no longer attached to the broken wood. It lay useless at his
feet.

He peered down the stone steps and
listened. There it was again. A low moan. Someone in pain. “Handel! Meg! Come
quick!” he called, and stepped cautiously downward, pressing one hand against
the wall as he descended.

They appeared at the top of the
stairs behind him, silhouetted by daylight spilling through the garage door.
“There’s somebody down here,” he said in a low voice. He moved slowly into the
darkness, and still managed to trip on something. He caught his balance and
reached down, grasped a long handle that was attached to a weighted head. A
sledgehammer. It was heavy enough to smash a wooden door. He hoped it wasn’t
used for anything more.