Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Blackwood Estate Winery
Thursday Morning
Aubrey hadn't slept much.
Not because of Bennett.
Oddly enough, Bennett had been the easiest part of it. He'd wrapped an arm around her sometime after midnight and simply held her. No questions about Anne. No careful attempts to pry at the tension between mother and daughter. No well-meaning advice.
Only the steady rise and fall of his breathing against her back.
It should have helped.
Instead, her brain had spent half the hours until dawn staging a hostile takeover.
Anne was here. Actually here. Not in a voicemail, not three states away, not safely contained behind a phone line she could ignore.
Anne was in Mabel's house.
Which meant Blackwood had officially entered a new phase of chaos.
Wherever Anne went, drama followed.
Aubrey stared at the Mercer proposal spread across Mabel's desk.
Growth projections. Expanded distribution. New market penetration. Increased production targets.
The numbers were impressive.
A soft knock sounded against the open office door.
She lifted her head.
Bennett stood in the doorway in dark jeans and a black T-shirt, coffee mug in one hand.
Seeing him settled her nerves.
"Morning," he said.
"Barely."
His mouth twitched. "Didn't sleep?"
"No."
"Me neither."
That surprised her. "You?"
His expression stayed neutral. "My bed suddenly got crowded."
Heat climbed into her face.
The bastard actually smiled a little.
Aubrey threw a pen at him.
He caught it one-handed.
"Conference room's filling up," he said.
Just like that, the smile vanished.
Business. Walter. Lockwood. Vanessa Mercer. The expansion proposal.
Aubrey glanced at the thick packet in front of her. "Everybody already there?"
"Most of them."
Her stomach tightened.
Walter wasn't sold. Lockwood definitely wasn't sold. Bennett wasn't openly against it, but he wasn't exactly championing it either.
And Vanessa Mercer would be sitting across the table — a woman who understood this world in ways Aubrey still had to fight for.
The thought hit where Aubrey least wanted it.
Bennett studied her for a moment. "You okay?"
No.
Not remotely.
Anne was here. Mabel was dead. Vanessa was downstairs. And somehow, everyone expected Aubrey to make the final decision on the biggest expansion proposal Blackwood had seen in years.
"Absolutely not."
His smile returned. "There she is."
Aubrey rolled her eyes, gathered the proposal, and stood.
Together, they walked toward the conference room.
Voices drifted through the glass.
Everyone was waiting. All of them expecting answers.
Aubrey stopped outside the door and took one long breath. Then another.
"You'll be fine," Bennett said softly.
She turned to him. "That's not reassuring."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
One corner of his mouth lifted.
"It was honest."
Aubrey shook her head. Then she squared her shoulders, reached for the handle, and pushed the door open.
Downstairs, Anne Langford made her entrance.
Which was exactly what Anne Langford always did.
Savannah glanced up from the reception desk first.
Then Chloe.
Both women blinked.
Anne wore a white linen dress that somehow managed to look effortless and expensive at the same time. Gold hoops glinted beneath perfectly styled blonde hair, and oversized sunglasses rested atop her head.
At sixty-eight, Anne Langford still walked into a room like she expected it to notice. Most rooms did.
"Good morning, ladies."
Savannah recovered first. "Good morning."
Anne smiled. "Mabel always hired pretty people."
Chloe laughed.
Savannah rolled her eyes. "Some things never change."
"No," Anne said, glancing around the winery lobby. "Apparently not."
The front door opened.
All three women turned.
Sheriff Burke Scott stepped inside.
Six-foot-two in worn boots and pressed denim, a tan Stetson shadowing his dark blond hair. His badge rode his belt instead of his chest, and he carried himself with the easy confidence of a man who had spent most of his life walking into rooms full of people having very bad days.
Burke spotted Savannah and Chloe immediately.
Then his gaze landed on Anne.
He stopped.
Anne’s expression brightened.
Well.
Now there was a handsome man.
Burke crossed the lobby. "Morning."
"Sheriff."
"Ms. Langford."
Anne tilted her head. "Burton Scott's boy."
Burke sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Yes, ma'am."
Anne laughed. "Oh Lord, you've got his eyes."
"I've heard that."
"No, honey. You've heard people say it." She pointed at him. "I'm telling you it's unsettling."
Savannah bit the inside of her cheek.
Chloe became very interested in a stack of invoices.
Burke shook his head. "My father would enjoy this conversation."
"He'd pretend not to."
Anne waved a hand. “Half the girls in Jackson County were crazy about your daddy."
Burke groaned. "Please don't."
"Oh, they were." She leaned closer. "Maggie Parker nearly started a riot over him once."
Burke laughed despite himself. "I seriously doubt that."
"I was there."
"You were probably causing it."
Anne considered that. "That's fair."
The sheriff chuckled.
Then his expression shifted back to business.
"I came to ask a few questions about Mabel."
Both Savannah and Chloe straightened.
Burke removed a small notebook from his pocket. "I'm trying to get a clearer picture of what she was working on during the weeks before her death."
Savannah nodded. "Most of that would've been on her computer."
"Emails. Calendar. Notes." Burke scribbled something. "Anything else she kept?"
The women turned to each other.
Then froze.
"Oh my God," Savannah said.
"The planner," Chloe said, slapping a hand against her forehead. "The day planner."
Burke lifted his head. "What day planner?"
"Mabel's planner." Savannah was already moving. "She carried it everywhere."
"Every meeting," Chloe added. "Every appointment. Every note."
Burke straightened. "Where is it?"
The women exchanged another glance.
Savannah pointed toward the back offices. "When she passed away, we locked everything important in the safe."
Chloe hurried down the hallway. "We totally forgot about it."
Burke watched her go.
When he turned back, Anne was studying him.
Still evaluating.
"You're enjoying this," she said.
Burke raised an eyebrow. "The planner?"
"The mystery."
Burke slid the notebook back into his pocket. "Comes with the badge."
Anne nodded. Then her expression softened.
"Mabel loved puzzles."
Neither of them smiled. A beat passed.
Then Chloe's voice echoed from down the hall.
"Found it!"
Burke turned back to Anne. "Ms. Langford."
"Hmm?"
"I may need to sit down with you at some point."
One eyebrow lifted. "Should I call my lawyer?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Burke's mouth. "Not yet."
Chloe laughed.
Anne looked disappointed. "That's unfortunate. I know a very good one."
"I've heard."
Burke's attention settled on the planner in Savannah's hands.
"You were her sister."
The humor faded slightly.
"Whether the two of you were close or not, you knew Mabel longer than anybody."
Anne held his gaze. "That's true."
"I'd appreciate any insight you can give me."
Anne nodded. "Fair enough."
Savannah held out the planner.
Burke took it carefully.
The worn leather cover looked ordinary enough.
Something told him it wasn't.
He tucked it beneath his arm and tipped the Stetson back onto his head.
"Ladies, I appreciate it."
Savannah smiled. "Hope it helps."
"So do I."
Burke tipped the brim of his hat, then turned and headed for the door.
It eased shut behind him as he disappeared into the sunshine.
Anne watched him go.
A slow smile touched her mouth.
"Yep."
Savannah glanced up. "What?"
"That's Burton Scott's son."
Then Anne headed deeper into the winery, leaving Savannah and Chloe grinning behind her.
The Conference Room
The conference room fell silent.
Vanessa Mercer clicked to the final slide.
Projected revenue. Expanded distribution. New market penetration.
Growth.
Lots of growth.
She set the remote down.
"We believe this positions Blackwood for the next twenty years."
Aubrey glanced around the table.
Walter sat with his arms folded. Lockwood's expression was unreadable. He studied the numbers.
Bennett sat motionless, eyes on the proposal.
Vanessa rested one hand on the remote and waited.
"So," Aubrey said. "Thoughts?"
Lockwood spoke first. "Where's the fruit coming from?"
Vanessa didn't miss a beat. "We've identified three partner growers."
"Contract fruit?"
"Yes."
Lockwood nodded slowly. "And when one of them has a bad year?"
"We diversify."
Lockwood leaned back. "That's not really an answer."
"It is from a business standpoint."
Walter finally spoke. "Blackwood built its reputation on controlling quality."
Vanessa turned toward him. "And Blackwood can continue doing that."
Walter didn't look convinced. "Maybe."
Vanessa faced Bennett. "What do you think?"
Bennett's eyes remained on the proposal. "I think growth is easy."
Vanessa blinked.
That clearly wasn't the answer she'd expected.
Bennett continued. "Keeping quality while you're growing is the hard part."
Vanessa folded her hands. "You're assuming quality suffers."
"No." His voice remained calm. "I'm saying that's the risk."
Tension gathered around the table.
Lockwood. Walter. Bennett.
All saying different versions of the same thing.
Risk.
Vanessa turned to Aubrey. "We're talking about a controlled expansion."
Aubrey lowered her gaze to the numbers.
The projections were strong. So was the market research. The demand was already there.
This was the kind of proposal she'd approved dozens of times in Philadelphia.
Maybe hundreds.
Her gaze moved around the room.
Walter looked uncertain. Lockwood looked skeptical. Bennett looked thoughtful.
It felt like everyone was waiting to see whether she belonged here.
Whether Aubrey could make the call.
The feeling hit a nerve.
Aubrey sat straighter.
"I think we're letting fear drive this discussion."
No one moved.
Vanessa's eyes brightened.
Lockwood's expression didn't change.
Aubrey continued. "Every opportunity carries risk."
She turned directly to Lockwood.
"If Mabel had been afraid of risk, there wouldn't be a Blackwood at all.”