Velocity (Karen Vail #3)(71)

“Makes Silver Ridge look like a shack.”

“You should be proud of your winery, Redd. I wanted to own a winery once.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“Money happened. It was expensive back ten years ago. Now it’s just plain ridiculous.”

“It’s business. Supply and demand. Napa’s a very valuable brand. That means the value of the finite amount of land goes up. We were lucky our family got in when land was cheap.” He tilted his chin up toward the glass roof, beyond which lay the soil and roots of the mountain that towered above them. “But even if I’m not actively involved, I am proud of it. It’s ours. And we turn out high-quality wine.” He gestured at the pristinely lit glass structure around them. “But then you see a place like this, it feels like a different league.”

“Up the stairs. Crystal’s waiting for us.”

They walked into Crystal Dahlia’s all-glass office and dispensed with the pleasantries. Crystal grinned. “And how’s your friend. Agent Vail?”

“Back in Virginia.”

“Did she enjoy her stay out west?”

Dixon and Brix shared a knowing look. Dixon said, “Not particularly.”

“Oh,” Crystal said, her smile fading. “I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t be helped,” Dixon said. “Circumstances beyond our control.”

“So how is Silver Ridge, Lieutenant Brix?”

Brix threw out both hands, palms up. “Who can complain? The economy sucks, sales are down a bit. But the wine is great. I’m told this will probably be a good year for the grapes if the weather goes as expected.”

“I’m told the same thing.”

“If you don’t mind,” Dixon said. “We’ve got some pressing business. No pun intended.” She waited a beat, then said, “Your board—the Georges Valley AVA.”

“I told you, my presidency is almost over.”

“Yes,” Dixon said. “But we need some information about Superior Mobile Bottling. César Guevara, in particular.”

Crystal placed well-manicured red nails on her desk. “Our contracts VP has dealt with him more than I have.”

“That’s Ian Wirth?”

“Good memory. If you wait a few minutes, Ian will be here if you’d like to talk with him. I’m due to hand over my file as part of the transition to the new president.”

Dixon checked her watch yet again. “A few minutes?”

“Any minute now.” Crystal picked up her phone and dialed an extension. “When Mr. Wirth arrives, please send him up to my office . . . He has? Excellent.” She placed the receiver back in its cradle. “Ian just came in the front doors.”

A moment later, Wirth was in Crystal’s office, taking a seat beside Dixon.

“Ian, good to see you,” Crystal said, eyeing him with a lingering gaze.

The look was not lost on Dixon, who recalled that Crystal was Wirth’s ex-wife.

“Ms. Dixon, good to see you again,” Wirth said. He held out a hand to Brix. “Ian Wirth.”

“Redmond Brix.” He stood and shook firmly, then retook his seat. “Good that you’re here. We’ve got some questions and Crystal thought you might be able to help us out. We know you were your board’s primary negotiator in its dealings with Superior Mobile Bottling. But how much did you interact with César Guevara?”

Wirth smirked. “Quite a lot. I negotiated our last contract with him and had ongoing discussions with him about its potential renewal.”

“And was he aware that you were one of the three on the board who was against him getting this contract?”

Wirth leaned back in his seat. “If he was, he never let me know it. And I played my cards close to the vest. Besides, I was speaking and negotiating for the entire membership, not me, or Victoria, or Todd.”

“I know you’re aware that the two others who opposed this contract are dead.”

“Hold it a second.” This from Crystal, who was suddenly paying attention. “What are you saying?”

“Victoria Cameron and Isaac Jenkins were the victims of a serial killer,” Brix said.

“I heard something on the news—”

Brix held up a hand to quash Crystal’s panic before it could work itself into a frazzle. “He’s been caught, and he’s no longer a threat.”

“Yes, that’s what they said.” Crystal’s gaze shot from Brix to Dixon, and back. “But I thought Victoria had a stroke.”

“We didn’t want word getting out until we had things under control,” Brix said. “The victims’ names still haven’t been released, so I’d appreciate if you’d keep that to yourselves until we’ve had a chance to meet with the families.”

Dixon said to Wirth, “Did you ever have any indication that Superior was engaged in anything other than legal activities?”

Wirth’s chin jutted back. “No. Should I have? I mean, our business with him was strictly related to bottling, and nothing else.”

Dixon placed a hand on his forearm. “Ian, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about this. We’re not accusing you of anything. Like I said at lunch, we’re still investigating something that may or may not be related to John Mayfield.”