“Who actually shot at you?”
“I don’t know. None of the thugs owned up to that one.”
“Who do you think shot at you?”
“It wasn’t Alejandro Brand: he was already in jail. Joe Pine and Julio Davis were probably in Mexico, and Martin Cruces was probably the type to delegate. That leaves Gordo Cruz, Esteban Cruz, and Miguel Mendoza. I’d say Esteban because he seems to be the smartest.”
“Esteban Cruz never confessed to doing anything.”
“Yeah, he was the only gang member who was smart enough to lawyer up. The others said he was there, but we don’t have definitive forensics. We do have a couple of fibers, a hair that’s consistent with his hair. But that’s not a fingerprint or DNA. He’ll get time, but probably not life without parole.
That’s a shame. He seems smart…smarter…and you don’t want a smart evil guy on the streets.”
“Although according to Joe Pine, Esteban messed up on Harriman.”
“Maybe yes, maybe no.”
“And he messed up by not getting Gil Kaffey the first time.”
“No, that was Joe Pine who messed up. He ran out of bullets.”
“What a fiasco!”
“We may never figure all of it out, but we have enough to put the right guys behind bars.”
Rina sipped her wine. “Mace must have been crazy with hatred to slaughter his family like that. Surely he could have found another project. It might not have been Greenridge, but he could have found something. And he was making good money. It wasn’t as if Guy was going to boot him out of the business altogether.”
“We don’t know what Guy was planning to do.”
“No one heard Guy say that he was firing Mace.”
“No one heard Guy say that he was canceling Greenridge. But almost everyone in the company knew that it was a done deal, especially once the recession hit.”
“That’s true.”
The waiter brought over the entrées. “More wine?”
“Any more and I’ll be floating home,” Decker said.
“And that’s a bad thing because…”
“I drove.”
“So give the woman your keys.”
“I’m not allowed behind the wheel of his Porsche,” Rina said.
“That’s not true,” Decker protested. “Well, it’s sort of true.”
Rina smiled. “It’s okay. I just think of him as my handsome chauffeur.”
Vlad laughed. “How about you? Another glass?”
“Sure, give her a glass,” Decker said.
“Now I really won’t be able to drive.”
“That’s the idea,” Decker said.
Rina gave him a playful hit. “I’ll take another glass.”
After Vlad refilled her pinot noir, he said, “Anything else I can get you?”
“Nothing,” Rina said. “Everything looks fantastic.”
Vlad left and Rina took a few bites of lamb. “This is delicious. You want some?”
“I won’t turn it down. Want some steak?”
“Just a bite.”
“See, this is why you’re still thin and I’m growing widthwise. I take half your lamb and you take a bite of my steak.”
“You outweigh me by over one hundred pounds. I shouldn’t be eating as much as you.” She took a French fry. “Want one?”
“Jezebel.” But Decker succumbed and ate a couple. “You want to know what I think was the final blow for Mace?”
Rina leaned forward. “Tell me.”
Decker laughed. “You’re my best audience.”
“I’m interested.”
“Okay, this is what I think,” Decker told her. “Mace could have dealt with the closure of Greenridge. Like you said, it was unlikely that Mace would get canned. Demoted yes, but probably not canned.
And like you said, he still would be making very good money and could have probably latched on to some other project. In my mind what really got to Mace was the ranch.”
“Guy’s had that ranch for ages.”
“Yes, that’s true. But it was a money pit. Had Guy sold the ranch, even in bad times, he could have cleared a lot of bucks and some of the money could have been put back into the Greenridge Project.”
“Not nearly enough to override the costs.”
“But maybe it would have been just enough money to keep Greenridge afloat until times turned around. I think Mace could have dealt with Greenridge closing. I think Mace could have dealt with Guy owning the ranch. But when Guy and Gil started making plans to turn the ranch into a winery, that’s when Mace went berserk. Not only was Guy not going to give Mace money for Greenridge, Guy was going to spend millions of dollars for a vanity project.”
“Interesting,” Rina told him.
“I think Mace just couldn’t bear Greenridge being canceled for lack of funds while millions of dollars were going into a money-losing proposition like a winery.”
“Not all wineries lose money.” Rina spread her arm about. “To wit.”
“I will amend my statement. Small wineries rarely make money. You’ve got to know what you’re doing.”
“That’s true.” Rina finished her pinot. “Actually, I like that theory.”
Decker brightened. “Thank you.”
Rina raised her goblet. “Well, here’s to you and a job well done. You deserve a good meal, and I promise I won’t drive your Porsche.”
“You can drive my Porsche. Just not after you’ve had a couple glasses of wine.”
Rina giggled. “That’s probably a good idea. Cheers.”
Decker smiled and clinked glasses. “Cheers.”
THE TRANSFORMATION WAS magical. The once hard-packed grounds had been covered by a green blanket as far as the eye could see. There were thousands of rows of netted, seedling grape vines.
Replacing the guardhouses and paddocks was a spanking new industrial building that held hundreds of oak and steel barrels, several labs for the enologists and wine mixers, and a tasting room. When the place was up and operable, it would be quite a draw for the area.
The sun was trying to break through the marine layer common in L.A. springs. The sky was cloudy, but the air was clean. Decker took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Hardscrabble turned into vibrant, verdant farmland.
Guy’s dream.
“This is unbelievable.” Decker zipped up his jacket. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“Long overdue,” Gil Kaffey said, “but I wanted it to be just right.”
They walked on the tilled earth between the rows of grapevines: Gil Kaffey, Grant Kaffey, Antoine Resseur, Decker, and the well-dressed man on his right who held his arm. He could afford nice clothing with a reward of twenty thousand dollars sitting in his bank account. Harriman couldn’t see any of it, but he sure could smell it.
“Cabernet grapes on the left and chardonnay on the right,” he told Gil.
Gil smiled. “What a nose. Are your taste buds as sensitive?”
“Give me a taste test and then we can both know for sure.”
“It’ll be a long, long time before I can use any of my own grapes. I have been talking to some appellations up north. I think it might be wise to start small with premium grapes and then gradually use that experience on my own crops.”
“How long do you think that will take?” Harriman asked.
“At least another couple of years,” Gil said. “In the meantime, I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. People ask if I miss the business…if I’m sorry I sold out my share to Grant. And I say, what is there to miss?”
Grant said, “Well, we miss you.”
Gil said, “You’d never know it by your profits, bro.”
Grant said, “That’s because we’ve laid off over five hundred people and shut down East Coast operations. You streamline anything, your revenues will go up.”
“Dad should have streamlined the business a long time ago,” Gil said.