Read Online Deadly Offer by Vicki Doudera - Free Book Online Page B

come.
    ———
    The man at the bar was drunk. Toby Bliss, owner of the Blissful Grape, glanced at the clock and then back at the stool where the guy was slumped, his massive head down flat on two enormously powerful arms. Only eight o’clock on a Friday night and the guy was out cold, his black hair sticking up at crazy angles from his shaggy head.
    The door opened and a crowd of tourists entered, laughing and crowding toward a table in the corner. Probably on their way back from a wine tasting party at one of the vineyards, Toby thought. His experienced eye told him they were just boisterous enough to order several rounds with appetizers, and maybe dinner, too, but not inebriated enough to cause any trouble.
    Unlike Mr. Universe, draped like a sack of potatoes over his bar. The guy seemed harmless, but Toby eyed his biceps with trepidation. He definitely lifted—a lot—and probably took enhancing drugs to boot. Toby took a step closer. A tattoo peeked from the guy’s white tee shirt. It was some sort of a wheel from the looks of it, but that was as close as he wanted to get to those guns. He wiped down a section of the bar with a damp rag. The guy had downed tequila, straight, until he’d just laid down his head and passed out. From the sound of his snores, he’d be there awhile.
    Toby looked around for Cecilia, who was turning out to be one of the worst waitresses on the planet. Figuring she was out back smoking a cigarette, he grabbed a few menus and a pad of paper and headed for the new arrivals, giving the man at the bar a wide berth. The best course of action is to leave the big guy alone. Hopefully his wife—if he’s got one—will realize he’s missing and fetch him before too long.
    Toby approached the boisterous table and put on a big smile. “Hey folks,” he said in what he thought was a Western twang. “Get you all something?”
    ———
    Darby carried a platter of sliced turkey, ham, and cheese into the kitchen and placed them on the counter. ET was behind her, a basket of finger rolls in hand. She turned to him. With concern in her voice, she asked, “How are you holding up?”
    He shook his head. “Not very well, I’m afraid. I feel like I will collapse any moment.”
    She nodded. The gathering had gone on much longer than she’d expected, with all kinds of people coming from neighboring towns to drop off food and pay their respects. They were beginning to leave, trickling out in small groups, and now only a few stragglers remained behind to help clean up. “Selena was certainly well loved,” she said quietly.
    “Yes.” He looked around the kitchen. “Did I tell you about the holidays we spent here? When my mother was still alive, Carlos and I brought her for Christmas, and then another year for Easter. We had a wonderful time. Selena was a fabulous hostess, so happy to show off her winery and so proud of all she’d accomplished.” He paused. “I am glad my mother got to see her like that.”
    Darby wondered why the family gatherings at Carson Creek had not continued, but she said nothing to her stricken friend. Instead she reached out and placed her hand on his. He gave a small, sad smile and walked heavily out of the kitchen.
    Darby sighed. Would this have been any easier had Selena’s brothers known she was sick? Why hadn’t she confided in anyone from her family? She wanted to keep her independence, Darby thought. I was the same way.
    She flashed back to Hurricane Harbor, Maine, the craggy island on which she’d been raised, and her decision as a teen to flee her hometown for California. It was not unlike what Selena Thompson had done, leaving her family to settle in a ramshackle Victorian in San Francisco. Except Selena’s family had been close-knit, and loving, and mine vanished in an afternoon, leaving me alone . Perhaps Selena’s ties, as well-meaning as they were, had been even harder to sever.
    She looked up as Michael Contento entered the kitchen, a distinguished