Marc's phone chimed. "Mandy? Babe, can you get that out of my left pocket."

Holding the blood-soaked paper towels to his back with her right hand, she reached in with her left, found his cell phone in the pocket of his running shorts, and handed it to him.

He glanced at the screen and immediately answered. "It's Theo. Hey, man. Good timing." He clicked it on speaker.

"Marc! I was just showing Ted his new state-of-the-art office and explaining how the security cameras covered all your places of business, and we look at the one for Intimate and see your skinny a.s.s, half naked and covered in what looks like blood. You're on speaker. Please tell me that's paint."

Mandy grabbed the phone out of Marc's hand and took over the conversation. "Hey Theo. It's definitely blood. A lot of it. Sheriff's deputies just pulled in. Someone took a shot at us when we were out jogging. Ted? I am so glad you're here. You need to get to work, big guy!"

"Give me the phone, Mandy." Marc's comment was dry as dust. He held his hand out.

"Yes, dear." She smirked, but she handed over the phone.

"Older green Ford Bronco." He rattled off the license plate number. "The windows were tinted so we didn't get a good look at the driver. Don't know if he shot from inside the car or if he was hiding in the vineyard, but the thing that scares me is that he appeared to be aiming for Mandy."

"Ted here. What makes you think that?"

"I was behind her and to the right. First bullet whizzed by my left ear, between us, and just missed both of us. I tackled her and we went down, but I was essentially right where she'd been when I caught her. Bullet grazed the left side of my back, barely missed her. Since we know she hasn't got an enemy on Earth, it's got to be the guy we're checking into."

"I have to agree. Looks like the deputies are waiting to talk to you, and you need to get to the doctor and get that patched up."

"Yes dear." He laughed. "You're as bad as Mandy."

"Get used to it. I'll call you later. Oh, and Marc? This office set-up is b.i.t.c.hin'."

"Thank Thelonious. It's all his baby. I have no idea how he managed to get it done so quickly. I'm really glad you're here, Ted. Gotta go." He ended the call and turned toward the deputy who'd been patiently waiting. "I'm sorry. My new security guy was checking out the cameras and clicked on this one." He pointed to a mounted security camera on an overhead light pole. "Got his first view of the area and I was front and center, in living color."

The deputy glanced over at Nate. "Ya know, Dunagan, this used to be a real quiet spot before you showed up. What's going on?"

Nate's hands went up. "Not me, Jerry," he said. "Talk to the owner. This is Marcus Reed, and with him, hanging on to the b.l.o.o.d.y towels, is Mandy Monroe."

"Good to meet you. Deputy Jerry Russo, Sonoma County Sheriff's Department. Now, first of all, do you need medical attention?" When Marc declined, the deputy grabbed his notebook. "Okay, then. What the h.e.l.l happened out here?"

"Well, this isn't how I planned to spend the afternoon." Marc slipped a clean T-shirt over his head, and poked his right arm through the sleeve while Mandy helped ease it over the bandage covering the b.l.o.o.d.y divot across his left shoulder blade. That arm was held close to his body inside his shirt in a sling to prevent movement.

"Me, either," she said. "This is gonna hurt."

"It already hurts." He turned and kissed her. "You realize you're going to have to be on the bottom."

"For a guy who claims he's been celibate for months, you certainly tend to plan your activities around s.e.x."

"I'm making up for lost time." He kissed her again as the nurse stepped into the room with his instructions for caring for his wound, extra bandages, and a tube of antibacterial cream.

She didn't look happy about much of anything. "Your paperwork is at the front window. Take ibuprofen for pain, keep the area dry for a couple of days and if you have any sign of infection, be sure and see your personal physician."

Then she turned and headed back down the corridor.

Mandy watched her go. "She looks like she's ready for some quiet time," she said. "This place is really busy for a small hospital in a little wine-country town." Mandy rinsed her hands off at the sink and then gathered up her handbag, Marc's b.l.o.o.d.y T-shirt, and his bag of supplies. They'd had to wait almost an hour before the ER doctor could see him because there'd been a group bike ride that had tangled up on one of the back roads. Riders had flooded the ER with a lot of road rash and a couple of broken bones.

"I think I'm the only gunshot wound." Marc walked over and held the door for her.

"You sound proud of yourself."

"Well, at least I didn't fall off my bike."

"No," she said. "You protected the maiden in distress." Laughing, she kissed him on the way out. "Can you drive?"

He reached in his pocket and handed the little key fob to her. "Probably better if you drive. Take it slow."

"I'm ready to take it slow the rest of the afternoon, if it's okay with you."

But when they finally got back to the vineyard, the tasting room parking lot was full and there were cars lined up along the road. Mandy walked with Marc to the guesthouse. He went into the bedroom, slipped his blood-stained shorts off and put on his old sweats, detoured to the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, and then went straight to the front room. "I think this is as far as I plan to go today. There's a Giants game on. Do you mind?"

"Not a bit. Actually, I'm going to clean up and see if Ca.s.sie needs me in the tasting room. They're really busy. She wasn't sure if she'd have help this afternoon and she's been pulling double duty with her winemaking. Triple, when you figure she's doing it for two labels."

"I know. Rub in the guilt. However, you're a lot better person than me, Mandy Monroe." He kissed her before lowering himself carefully onto the sofa in front of the big flat-screen TV.

She stopped between him and the TV and planted her hands on her hips. "Well, I didn't lose a gallon of blood, either."

"There is that."

When Mandy arrived at the tasting room, Ca.s.sie looked ready to fold. Both Lupe and Josie had come in to help, but even with the three of them, there were people lined up to taste the wines and try the various cheeses, crackers, and olives set on tables around the room.

Nate was working in the vineyard, and the slow, steady rumble of the tractor as he mowed between the vines blended with all the lively commotion inside. Mandy took a deep breath and waded into the crowd, working her way over to Ca.s.sie.

"What can I do to help?"

"Mandy! What a welcome sight. How's Marc?"

"He's fine, staples across his back and his left arm in a sling. I imagine he'll be asleep on the couch in the next five minutes."

And that was all the time they had for conversation for the next couple of hours. The only bad thing about it? Mandy realized how much she missed working in an environment like this, one where she interacted with complete strangers who were out having a good time. She might have to get serious about Marc's coffee shop-slash-cafe. This was definitely work she loved.

Once they closed the tasting room at 4:30, Mandy took over and sent Josie and Lupe home. They were both always so busy with Lupe in college and Josie working, she knew they wanted some time alone together. There were no arguments when she offered to clean up, but when she suggested Ca.s.sie go home and relax as well, Ca.s.sie pulled rank.

"When I'm not making wine, this is my kingdom. I'm staying." She opened a can of lemonade and parked herself on one of the stools in front of the granite bar while Mandy loaded wine gla.s.ses in the dishwasher and put things away.

Ca.s.sie sipped her lemonade and smiled as if this was the best thing ever. "I hope you realize I could get used to this really easy," she said. "I love watching you clean up. You're so efficient!" She laughed. "Must be all that barista training."

"That's got to be it. Did I tell you that Marc's thinking of opening a coffee shop in the bottom floor of his building? The long-time tenants just moved out this week. He asked me if I'd run it. Actually, he wants me as part owner with him as a silent partner."

"You gonna do it?"

"I think so. He wants to hire women from a local shelter. He got the idea after all this business with his mom, and knowing that Jake and Ben want to set up a memorial fund in the name of the young woman and child who were killed in that wreck the guys had so long ago. She and her little boy were victims of abuse long before that happened, which made their deaths even more tragic, if that's at all possible. Marc wants to take the concept of the memorial fund further, and include his mom's name in something. A coffee shop that employs women from abusive relationships, one that offers childcare to employees..." She shrugged. "Hard to turn down something like that."

"What would you call it?"

"His mother's name was Elizabeth, but everyone called her Bett. I've been thinking about it while I've been working today, and..."

Ca.s.sie laughed. "You can actually think when you're in here dealing with a gazillion tourists? I can barely remember my name!"

"Actually, I can. Weird, isn't it? How does Bett's Place sound? Something simple is more apt to stick in a person's mind."

"I like it. Run it by Marc, see what he thinks."

"Yeah, I ... Ca.s.sie, someone's coming up the drive."

"Closed sign is up, darn it. I hate to have to lock the gate but ... oh, it's Jerry. He's one of the deputies you met earlier." She slid off her stool as the big SUV came to a stop in the lot in front of the tasting room. The deputy got out and, speaking into his radio, walked in.

He ended the conversation as he stepped into the room. "Don't get up, Ca.s.sie. Hi, Mandy. Is Marc around?"

"Probably asleep in front of the TV. Want me to get him?"

"Nah. Don't bother him. Hope he's not hurting too badly. I just wanted to let him know we found the Bronco abandoned down past Lambert Bridge. It was stolen from a parking lot in town earlier this morning. The guys dusted for prints but I doubt we'll be able to find much. It looked like it had been wiped clean. We tried to get hold of Marc's father in Marin, but the house is pretty empty. Deputy who checked on the place said it appears that whoever lived there has moved out. Gra.s.s is dead, newspapers stacked up on the front porch, most of the furniture is gone."

"Interesting. Marc said he thought maybe his dad was in some serious financial trouble. He's one of those guys who's always running some sort of scam or another, and he's been pressuring Marc to loan him money. Let me go see if Marc's up. He might be able to add some more information."

Marc was just waking up when Mandy got back. He'd slept all afternoon, but he tried to look like he'd been watching TV.

"Busted," she said, leaning over to kiss him. "You've been sleeping, haven't you?"

"Yeah. I think I lasted all of two minutes after you left." He kissed her back. "How could you tell?"

"Sleep wrinkles on your cheek. Go wash your face and grab a shirt. I want you to come to the tasting room. Jerry, the deputy who interviewed you earlier, is here. Said it looks as if your father's house in Marin is empty. Newspapers piled up in front, landscaping dead, most of the furniture gone, from what they could see through the blinds."

"Yeah. Just let me find my shoes." He laughed. "After I wash the wrinkles off my face." He was back in less than two minutes, hair freshly combed, face moderately unwrinkled. He'd put on old sweats and a sweatshirt that had definitely seen better days, but he'd kept his left arm tucked inside in the sling. His running shoes were covered in blood spatters, but he slipped them on without socks before following Mandy. "How'd it go in the tasting room?"

"You made a lot of money on wine today, big guy. The place was really busy."

"Was it hard work?"

She laughed. "I had a blast. I really miss working like that. And yes, that means that I'm in if you still want to do the coffee shop. Wanna call it 'Bett's Place?'"

"Not 'Mandy's'?"

"Not if it's going to be for the women from the shelter. I think we should honor your mom."

They'd reached the tasting room. He pulled her into a one-armed hug and kissed her. "I like that," he said. "I like it a lot."

Deputy Russo questioned Marc for over an hour. "Personally, I think you've got more than enough suspicious information to at least go to the police and tell them what you remember, what you suspect. It would help if we had a better idea where you father might be now."

"I wish I knew, Jerry, but I've had very little to do with him since I left home for college. That was August, 1997. The last time I saw him before this latest run-in was a couple of years ago when he asked to borrow money."

"Was it a large sum?"

"He said he needed fifty thousand in cash, that he'd pay me back by the end of the financial quarter, which would have been the end of June two years ago. I gave him the cash, and that was the last I saw of him until about a month ago when he came to me for more money."

"Did you give it to him?"

"No sir, I didn't. I told him he'd never paid back the first loan and I wasn't an idiot. That's when he pulled the father card and tried to guilt me into it." He shrugged and added, "It didn't work."

"Did you already suspect him?"

Marc shook his head. "No. Not in the least. I just don't like him very much. I'd been having the dreams, convinced I'd murdered a woman, only I didn't recognize her and I had absolutely no memory of doing anything like that at all, other than the dreams. I still don't really remember what my mother looked like, though I now know she's the one I saw. There weren't any pictures of her when I was growing up, and I honestly don't know if there's anything of hers at my father's house. I imagine he's gotten rid of everything a.s.sociated with her."

"You said there was an inheritance, that you think that could have been the motivation for her murder? There's a lot of money there?"

"More than enough to tempt a greedy man to murder. And I can't help but wonder if that was also the motivation for marriage. She married him just weeks after her grandmother, the woman who raised her, died. I'm wondering if she was his target all along. In fact, I've been wondering what my great grandmother died from. It all feels too convenient. Honestly? I wouldn't put anything past him." He glanced at his hand, tightly linked with Mandy's. She hadn't let go of him once during the entire discussion with the deputy.

Her mere presence, the fact she was there for him, was an unimaginable gift, something he'd never once experienced. While Jake had been there for him over the years as a friend and someone to bounce ideas off of, it had been so much different than the support he took from Mandy. She strengthened him in ways he'd never expected.

Steadied him, enough that he felt totally in control when he focused on the deputy once again. "Where do you suggest I go from here? I've hired an investigator. He's convinced Steven Reed is a dangerous man, possibly psychotic. I'm certain he was shooting at Mandy today, but now that he knows I'm after him, I'm afraid I've put all my friends and employees at risk."

"At this point, it sounds as if you've got enough evidence to get the police interested, especially with the hypnotherapist able to verify what you've told me." Jerry grabbed a card out of his pocket, jotted down a name on the back. "The chief of police in Marin and I have known each other for years. Since the alleged crime happened in Marin County, that's where you need to start. Give him a call. I'll see if I can find out anything to help us focus on Reed as the shooter in today's incident. We really need a good photo of him. Do you know if he's ever been arrested?"

Mandy interrupted. "I'm sure that's information Ted Robinson can find for you. I hate to burden your department with putting manpower into finding something Marc can probably get with his people."

Marc squeezed her hand. "Excellent idea. We're going to be here just a couple more days at the most, Jerry, and then we're headed back to San Francisco." He reached for his wallet, then realized he hadn't stuck it in the pocket of his sweats. "I don't have a card with me. Got something so I can write down my contact info?"

"I've got it. You gave all of that to me after the shooting."

Marc shook his head. "I have absolutely no memory of what we talked about then."

Mandy squeezed his hand. "You might have been just a wee bit rattled, ya think?"

"Yeah. Maybe just a little. And the ibuprofen is wearing off." He shook hands with the deputy. "I guess I'm not as tough as I thought I was."

Nate walked across from the house as Deputy Russo was leaving. The two men exchanged a few words and then Nate followed the deputy as far as the front gate and locked it behind him. They all met on the front porch at the main house.

Ca.s.sie sat on the big porch swing and groaned. "Folks, I know the plan was to go into town for dinner, but I'm beat." She glanced at Marc. "And I doubt you're feeling much like partying tonight, either."

"You've got that right. Why don't you go in and relax, and Mandy and I can go pick something up. I promise to get something wonderful."

Ca.s.sie sighed. "Really wonderful? Like Italian wonderful?"

"That sounds good." Mandy turned to Marc. "That place in Geyserville, the one Kaz and Jake liked so much?"

"Lasagna. Definitely the lasagna." Ca.s.sie moaned dramatically.

"We've got plenty of stuff to make a salad." Nate stood behind Ca.s.sie, rubbing her shoulders. "You sure you're okay to drive, Marc?"