Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
City Limits Café hearing his name out of Anne Langford’s mouth made the room feel two sizes too small.
He swallowed, set his fork down, and met her gaze evenly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Times change.”
Flat. Nothing for her to catch on to.
Anne smiled anyway, slow and appreciative.
“Well… that’s an improvement,” she said, then turned back toward Willow as if she hadn’t thrown a spark down the length of the counter.
Scout picked his fork back up and went back to his pancakes, but his attention had sharpened. He didn’t stare at her the way some of the men did. He listened.
“So,” Anne said a moment later, turning enough that the neckline of her dress did exactly what it was designed to do, “which one of you is gonna tell me how in God’s name my daughter ended up runnin’ my sister’s empire all by herself?”
Mary Lou perked right up.
“Oh, honey, you didn’t hear?” she said. “Mabel left that girl the whole estate. House, land, winery. All of it. Signed and sealed before she…” Her voice faltered. “Before she passed.”
“The lawyer’s version of that story was dry as toast,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “I want the real one.” She lifted her coffee in a small salute. “From the people who actually live here.”
June’s mouth tightened. “Real version is Mabel finally did somethin’ right by that girl and made sure she’d never have to answer to anyone but herself again,” she said quietly.
Anne’s smile wobbled. For a second. Gone almost before anyone could be certain they’d seen it.
Luke saw.
So did June.
Regret. Raw and ugly and entirely out of place on a woman who seemed determined to charm the entire room.
Then it vanished. Buried beneath the smile again.
“Well, that sounds very noble,” Anne said lightly. “Except she trapped her, too. Aubrey shouldn’t have to earn an inheritance by putting her life on hold.”
Sam raised his brows. “You think Aubrey can’t handle it?”
“Aubrey’s brilliant,” Anne said without hesitation.
“She gets that from me.” A few people snorted.
She ignored it. “But she’s also never had to deal with folks up here when they decide something’s theirs.
Y’all know how this valley is. You don’t just inherit land; you inherit every grudge that ever touched it. ”
“That’s true,” Red said. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Far as I can tell, nobody’s said a damn word yet about what happens to the beef side of things. Cows don’t pay probate fees. They eat and wait for somebody to decide if they still belong here.”
The room went a shade quieter.
“Red,” Willow warned, a soft edge in her tone.
He took another bite of his burger like the conversation was over. “Just sayin’,” he muttered.
“Who found my sister?” Anne asked.
“Bennett McCrae,” Mary Lou said.
“McCrae…” Anne repeated, filing the name away. “He worked for Mabel?”
“Ran the winery with her,” Red answered.
“He found her?” Anne repeated.
“Yes.”
She stirred her coffee once.
“Has Burke ruled him out?”
Willow’s head came up. “Why would you ask that?”
Anne blinked.
“Because my sister was murdered,” she said.
That landed.
Then Anne sighed and lifted one shoulder.
“But then again, Mabel—and Harold, for that matter—managed to make plenty of people mad over the years.”
Red snorted into his coffee. “That ain’t exactly news.”
“No,” Anne agreed. “It isn’t.”
June’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between making people mad and givin’ them a reason to kill you.”
Anne met June’s gaze.
“Is there?”
The question wasn’t sharp.
June held her gaze. “Most of the time, yes.”
Anne’s smile faded completely.
Something flickered across her face.
Then it was gone.
“Well,” she said lightly, reaching for her coffee again, “let’s hope Burke figures out which kind this was.”
She took another sip, then set the mug down.
“So,” she went on, her tone brightening a shade too much, “who’s still around?”
Mary Lou laughed. “Lord, where do you want me to start?”
“Walter Grady?”
Mary Lou’s smile faded. “He’s still there,” she said.
For a beat, the only sound was the hiss of the grill.
Finally, Red grunted. “Walter never did go very far from Blackwood.”
Anne studied him.
“No,” she said. Her smile softened. “I suppose he didn’t.”
That was all.
But it was enough to shift something in the room.
Willow slid the Blackwood Burger in front of her, followed by a generous wedge of chocolate pie.
“Eat,” Willow said. “You can lecture us about our failings after.”
Anne laughed and picked up the burger with surprising enthusiasm for someone so polished.
Ned checked his watch and slid his empty plate away.
“I better get back to Moonshine Creek,” he said, tossing some bills on the counter. “Campers start wanderin’ if I’m not there to point ’em at the right fire ring.”
“Tell ’em to come into town and spend money,” Willow called. “I got books gatherin’ dust back there.”
Mary Lou dabbed her mouth and pushed back her chair.
“If you need the real story, come by the visitor center,” she told Anne. “I’ve got more pamphlets than sense and all the gossip to go with ’em.”
“Oh, I fully intend to,” Anne said. “You think I came all this way for the scenery?”
At the window table, Luke pulled a few bills from his wallet and dropped them by his plate. He caught Willow’s eye and tipped his head toward the counter.
“Put mine on my tab,” he said. “And start one for her too. Sheriff might want to buy her a coffee later.”
Willow’s mouth pinched, but she nodded once.
As the bell chimed again behind him, Anne’s voice carried over the clatter of dishes and hum of conversation.
“I’m just sayin’,” she said, licking a smear of sauce from her thumb, “if somebody thinks they’re gonna guilt my daughter into stayin’ here because Mabel wrote it into a will, they’ve got another thing comin’.”
Scout watched him go, then looked back at Anne.
“Burke is gonna love this,” he muttered.
Luke stepped out into the thick June air and headed up Main toward the sheriff’s office, already framing the conversation in his mind.
Anne Langford was back in Sylva.
She’d just announced to half the café that she’d come to save Aubrey from the mess Mabel left behind.