find it together in the daylight with our rested eyes. It will be there.”
Wade shook his head. “That’s kind of you, Sunny, but I’ll head home. I’ve never been afraid of the dark and I’m certainly not going to start now.”
Hours after Wade had left, Sunny lay awake in bed. Her old clock radio read 3:13. It was a dingy relic, but she loved to watch the paddles with the numbers on them slap into place. She stared until the tiny card with the four on it flipped over the three in thirteen with a satisfying smack, then she counted slowly to ten six times, feeling the obsessive’s kick of pleasure when the five came up and over the four exactly as she finished. She did this until 3:19 and then made herself stop. Wade had put the gun back exactly where he said he did, she knew that. They would notfind it mislaid around the house or put away somewhere in the workshop. He might not be fastidious about his appearance or his housekeeping, but when it came to equipment of any sort, he maintained the strictest standards. Wade thrived on ritual and accuracy; that was what drew him to shooting in the first place. Who stole Wade Skord’s rifle? How did they know where to find it? Where was it now? Had it been used to kill Jack Beroni, or could there be some other explanation?
She threw off the covers and got up. Out in the kitchen, the floor was cool on her bare feet. The house was pleasantly quiet. She needed to sleep so that she would be clear-headed tomorrow. She would make Catelina’s cure. It was designed for a cold, but worked just as well for a restless mind in the middle of the night. She poured half a cup of red wine in a saucepan, sliced an orange and squeezed the juice in, and turned the heat on low. When it was warm, she added a tablespoon of honey and one clove.
Sunny pulled the drapes in the living room across the picture window and bolted the door. When was the last time she had done that? It was just a precaution, she thought, not fear. This house is the safest place in the world. St. Helena is the safest place in the world. She curled up in the leather chair and wrapped her hands around the cup of hot wine.
Someone had removed Wade’s rifle from its hiding place; that was all she was ready to accept as fact right now. From there, there were two reasonable possibilities: Either the murderer removed the gun, or someone else did. If the murderer removed it, he or she had one of two possible intentions: either to use the gun to commit the murder—maybe to implicate Wade, maybe just to use a stolen gun—or to make it appear that the gun had been used to commit the murder. If someone other than the murderer had stolen the gun, the timing of the theft could justbe a coincidence and have nothing to do with the murder. This scenario she ruled out; it was based on too much coincidence. Then if someone other than the murderer stole the gun, they must have both known about the murder and wanted to make Wade appear guilty.
This logical process was not helping Sunny get sleepy.
If the thief was not the killer, the thief must have discovered the murder very soon after it happened and quietly put into place the plan to frame Wade. Unlikely. Or must have been aware of the murderer’s intentions and therefore had time to plan to frame Wade. That would mean two people were involved, working together. Possible.
She stared into the cup of wine.
Okay, focus on who would want to make Wade appear guilty. Aside from the desire to do it, the thief would need the knowledge of where the gun was kept. She agreed with Wade that it would not have been found by accident. Whoever took it had watched Wade take it out or put it away. That limited the range of suspects dramatically. Wade had friends, but not dozens of them. He had acquaintances, and certainly hundreds of people had visited the winery to help with harvest, crush, and bottling, but there wouldn’t have been any Assault Golf on those occasions. Assault Golf was the
Wade shook his head. “That’s kind of you, Sunny, but I’ll head home. I’ve never been afraid of the dark and I’m certainly not going to start now.”
Hours after Wade had left, Sunny lay awake in bed. Her old clock radio read 3:13. It was a dingy relic, but she loved to watch the paddles with the numbers on them slap into place. She stared until the tiny card with the four on it flipped over the three in thirteen with a satisfying smack, then she counted slowly to ten six times, feeling the obsessive’s kick of pleasure when the five came up and over the four exactly as she finished. She did this until 3:19 and then made herself stop. Wade had put the gun back exactly where he said he did, she knew that. They would notfind it mislaid around the house or put away somewhere in the workshop. He might not be fastidious about his appearance or his housekeeping, but when it came to equipment of any sort, he maintained the strictest standards. Wade thrived on ritual and accuracy; that was what drew him to shooting in the first place. Who stole Wade Skord’s rifle? How did they know where to find it? Where was it now? Had it been used to kill Jack Beroni, or could there be some other explanation?
She threw off the covers and got up. Out in the kitchen, the floor was cool on her bare feet. The house was pleasantly quiet. She needed to sleep so that she would be clear-headed tomorrow. She would make Catelina’s cure. It was designed for a cold, but worked just as well for a restless mind in the middle of the night. She poured half a cup of red wine in a saucepan, sliced an orange and squeezed the juice in, and turned the heat on low. When it was warm, she added a tablespoon of honey and one clove.
Sunny pulled the drapes in the living room across the picture window and bolted the door. When was the last time she had done that? It was just a precaution, she thought, not fear. This house is the safest place in the world. St. Helena is the safest place in the world. She curled up in the leather chair and wrapped her hands around the cup of hot wine.
Someone had removed Wade’s rifle from its hiding place; that was all she was ready to accept as fact right now. From there, there were two reasonable possibilities: Either the murderer removed the gun, or someone else did. If the murderer removed it, he or she had one of two possible intentions: either to use the gun to commit the murder—maybe to implicate Wade, maybe just to use a stolen gun—or to make it appear that the gun had been used to commit the murder. If someone other than the murderer had stolen the gun, the timing of the theft could justbe a coincidence and have nothing to do with the murder. This scenario she ruled out; it was based on too much coincidence. Then if someone other than the murderer stole the gun, they must have both known about the murder and wanted to make Wade appear guilty.
This logical process was not helping Sunny get sleepy.
If the thief was not the killer, the thief must have discovered the murder very soon after it happened and quietly put into place the plan to frame Wade. Unlikely. Or must have been aware of the murderer’s intentions and therefore had time to plan to frame Wade. That would mean two people were involved, working together. Possible.
She stared into the cup of wine.
Okay, focus on who would want to make Wade appear guilty. Aside from the desire to do it, the thief would need the knowledge of where the gun was kept. She agreed with Wade that it would not have been found by accident. Whoever took it had watched Wade take it out or put it away. That limited the range of suspects dramatically. Wade had friends, but not dozens of them. He had acquaintances, and certainly hundreds of people had visited the winery to help with harvest, crush, and bottling, but there wouldn’t have been any Assault Golf on those occasions. Assault Golf was the
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