Chapter 2 - IN THE DARK

The darkness was absolute.

No moonlight through the windows.

No ambient glow from the hallway.

Just the suffocating, heavy black of a room cut off from the world.

Then, the sound of movement.

A chair scraped violently against the hardwood. Someone bumped hard into my shoulder. I stumbled back, my hand blindly searching for the edge of the desk.

“Adrian!” Margaret’s voice cracked with panic. “Adrian, where are you?”

“I’m here, Mother. Stay back.”

I heard the frantic clicking of the laptop keyboard.

Then a heavy thud.

“Hey!” Adrian shouted.

Something smashed against the floor. It sounded like a heavy glass paperweight shattering.

I fumbled in my apron pocket. My fingers bypassed the heavy, wax-sealed cork I still carried, closing instead around my sommelier’s knife. Heavy steel. A solid grip.

Next to it was my phone.

I pulled it out and hit the flashlight.

The harsh white beam cut through the dark.

The event office was in ruins. The chairs were overturned. Margaret was pressed against the far wall, one hand gripping her chest. Adrian was on the floor, rubbing his jaw, blood trickling from his lip.

Serena was huddled in the corner, her ruby-red dress trembling.

And the family attorney, Vance, was standing by the door.

But the desk was empty.

The laptop was gone.

“Who took it?” Margaret demanded, her chest heaving.

I swung the beam of light toward the door. Vance had his hand on the brass knob. He was twisting it, pulling hard, but it wouldn't give.

“It’s jammed,” Vance said, his voice entirely too calm for a man locked in a dark room with a stolen confession.

“Move,” Adrian snapped, getting to his feet. He shoved Vance aside and rattled the handle.

I stepped closer to the desk, shining my light on the floor. The laptop wasn’t there. But among the shattered glass of Margaret's paperweight, something caught the light.

A small, silver object.

I knelt and picked it up.

It was a heavy silver cufflink. The face of it was engraved with a familiar crest.

Not a winery crest.

I pulled the wax-covered cork from my apron. I held them side by side under the harsh light of my phone.

The crest on the poisoned bottle’s cork matched the cufflink perfectly.

I looked up.

Vance was wearing French cuffs.

His left sleeve was missing its link.

Before I could speak, the heavy oak door didn’t just unlock. It swung open, revealing the brightly lit hallway.

Standing in the doorway was a man I hadn't seen in five years.

Serena’s father. Richard Vale.

He looked at the four of us in the dark office, then at his daughter.

“Is there a problem in here?” Richard asked.

Serena burst into tears.

Margaret pushed past Adrian, marching right up to Richard. “Where is it?”

“Where is what, Margaret?”

“The laptop. The recording.”

Richard smiled. A cold, thin smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I heard shouting. I came to unlock the door.”

I looked at Vance. He was rolling his left cuff down, hiding the missing link.

I slipped the cufflink and the cork into my pocket.

“We need to call the police,” I said.

Richard’s eyes snapped to me. The former head sommelier. The help.

“There will be no police,” Vance interjected smoothly. “A fuse blew. A laptop was misplaced. If we call the police to a billion-dollar acquisition dinner over a missing computer, the stock tanks by morning. Margaret, you know this.”

Margaret hesitated. The business always came first.

“I’ll find the laptop,” Adrian said, his voice dangerous. He turned to Serena. “And you’re going to tell me exactly what your father did nine years ago.”

“I didn't know!” Serena cried.

Richard grabbed his daughter’s arm. “We are leaving.”

As they pushed past me, I noticed something else on the floor. Just outside the doorway.

A muddy boot print.

None of the men in this room were wearing boots. They were all in Italian leather loafers.