Agnes' phone rang, but it wasn't the normal chime she used for an incoming phone call. She drew it out of her purse just in case it was her kids or the police calling. She hoped it was either of them, just so she could have an excuse to walk away from the group that had gathered around the man who'd been in her nightmares more often than she could count.
It was neither. It was a door chime notification from the alarm company servicing Patrick's house. There was a man's face filling the screen. He must have been at the front door and had rung the bell. That had to be the reason for the notification. She had no idea who he was, but the chime kept ringing, and people were starting to look at her.
"I need to get this," she said to no one in particular, and began walking for the winding staircase to go down. To her relief, Al and Rachel followed her, Rachel beckoning Emma to join them. She could have kissed them both for standing by her.
She pressed the button to speak to the man at her door, wondering if this was one of the men who'd killed Patrick. If he was, though, why was he showing his face? Plus, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Hello?" Agnes asked.
"Hello?" the guy asked, looking around the front porch. He couldn't tell where her voice was coming from. The front door camera must have been equipped with a hidden speaker and receiver, like an apartment building intercom, so she could see and hear him but he could only hear her.
"Who are you?" she asked as the four of them descended the stairs together. Al and Rachel were peering in on either side of her at the screen.
"It's Brandon, from last night."
"I don't know any Brandon," Agnes said. "I think you have the wrong house."
She dimly heard Rachel and Al exchanging whispers. She thought she heard them say, "It's the guy!"
"Sergeant Mara," Brandon went on, "I think we got off on the wrong foot last night. I'm sorry I left, but my car was stolen, you see, and I had to take care of that before I could do anything else, and then by the time I remembered I was having a lovely evening with you, I discovered you were gone."
"Oh, I get it now," Agnes said. "I'm not Sergeant Mara. But, wait, did she invite you to my house?"
"Your house?" Brandon asked, confused. "This isn't Joanie's house?"
"Um, no. How did you find this house? Did she give you directions?"
Before he could answer, he stood back, blinking in surprise, because the door had opened. "Oh, Joanie, hi," he said, and then the video feed ended. Perhaps the call was cut off when the door opened.
"What the fuck?" Agnes asked, as Al and Rachel grabbed her arms and led her out of the house down a path cleared of snow. Over at the canopied area, other guests were already congregating, and wait staff were setting out bottles and glasses. "Guys," she said irritably. "What's going on? Do you know something about this?"
"You know that sting we did last night?" Al asked. "That's the guy who was chatting up Joanie; we think he was the one who made the hashtag. He left a tracking device in her purse while she was in the bathroom."
"What?!" Agnes breathed. "You knew he did it?"
"We only did because Lauren spotted him with his hand in her purse, although at first we thought he was stealing from her."
"So, Joanie must have brought the tracking device to my house, if he's there now."
"Apparently so," Rachel said. "She mentioned wanting to have a little fun with the guy last night, after she discovered the device. I hope she knows what she's doing."
"Why would she open the door to him?"
"I guess she must be planning on confronting him with the device," Al said. "Maybe even arresting him herself."
"Still," Agnes said. "I'm not comfortable with what she did. She brought a tracking device to the house I plan on living in with my children. What if this guy came when I was there and Joanie wasn't? Would I have been forced to fend him off? What if he's dangerous?"
Al and Rachel looked at each other in dismay. "Let's discuss this later," Rachel said. "Let's enjoy some wine."
Rachel pulled the tickets for the four of them from her purse and handed them to a suited man at the canopy, a glorified bouncer by his physique. At least there was someone looking out for trouble this evening, Agnes thought. Rachel had told her earlier she'd texted Lauren about the Mercers, and that Joanie had contacted her superiors. Hopefully a police officer, preferably in plain clothes, would arrive to ensure her safety.
Why hadn't Agnes thought of having protection at this event in addition to having protection for her children while she was out? Why hadn't she considered that the Mercers might be here? Rick Mackenzie and Whistle Pig Vineyards were just another of their vassals, if what Al had told her was correct. They fed grapes into the ever-widening Mercer maw, so why wouldn't they be here? And their children were marrying! The joining of two houses, Rick had called it. It certainly had a medieval, Game of Thrones quality to it; John Mercer was older than Rick Mackenzie, and the fact that their children were of an age meant that the dirty old bastard had probably impregnated a woman other than his wife, a younger woman certainly, and that this "daughter" was most likely a bastard to be married off, the only scion suitable to marry such a small-time vintner's son. She wanted to warn Rick to spirit those two innocent young people away, somewhere far away from John Mercer's influence, but she didn't think he'd listen to her, because for him, this was a boon. Did he not know how terrible Mercer was? She thought everybody in the Okanagan knew his reputation. Patrick certainly had, and he'd paid the price for it in the end.
They perused the tables of finger foods and plucked tiny flutes of amber coloured ice wine from servers' trays. Rachel helped Emma serve herself some non-alcoholic punch from a large punch bowl. Agnes barely tasted the ice wine. It was wasted on her. Here she was, hoping to have an enjoyable evening after the stress of the morning, and it had soured like over-fermented wine, and now anxiety was burning like acid in her stomach.
Once they were all back together, Al said, "We can get a taxi and get out of here, if you want."
"We can go back to the hotel and see Patrick and Melissa!" Emma said enthusiastically.
"What about your family?" Rachel said. "We can't just go without saying goodbye."
"My priority right now is everyone's safety," Al said. "I can call them later and say something came up, maybe one of us got sick or something."
They were too late, though. The family had entered the canopied hall, accompanied by the Mercers. It occurred to Agnes that other members of that extensive family would have been here if a legitimate child was getting married. The fact that only John and his wife, who was his own age and couldn't possibly be the young woman's mother, were the only ones here spoke volumes about how the rest of the family viewed the poor young woman. She seemed not to be too concerned, though. She and Jared, who as a boy had a crush on Agnes, apparently, looked blissfully happy in each other's presence. They took their glasses of ice wine as Rick strode to a microphone that had been set up in a corner, glass in hand, and welcomed everyone to the event, then made a toast to the engaged couple. The assembled guests clinked glasses and shouted congratulations. Agnes, Rachel and Al dutifully did the same, exchanging wary glances.
Emma clinked her punch glass a little too hard against Al's, shattering his and drawing stares. "Oops! Sorry!" Emma cried, blushing furiously.
"No worries, kiddo," Al said, crouching to pick up the pieces from the grass. "I was almost finished mine anyway."
"Oh, please, sir, let me," one of the servers admonished, crouching himself to help him.
"Thank you," Al said, rising, but... were Agnes' eyes fooling her, or had he palmed one of the jagged pieces and slipped it into his blazer pocket?
"Are you all okay?" Daphne asked as she and Tatiana approached. "You left a little abruptly."
"Yeah, sorry," Al said, dusting himself off to cover for the pocketing of the glass. "Agnes' kids are missing her, and we were thinking of sending Agnes and Emma back early to hang out with them in their hotel room and watch a movie."
"That sounds like a far better time than this," Tatiana said, and Agnes blinked in surprise at her candour. Did she think something was amiss here too, or was she just unused to the glitz and glamour?
Even Daphne looked askance at her. "Oh, but are you sure you've sampled enough of this bounty?" she asked Agnes, gesturing to the various multicoloured bottles of wine laid out on the table.
"Oh, well, I'm not a big wine drinker," Agnes said.
"At least have something to eat before you go," Daphne said. She turned to Al and said, "You're staying, right? We barely got you acquainted."
Al looked at Rachel, who shrugged. "Sure," he said, pulling his phone from the pocket not containing the glass. "Let me just call a cab for Agnes and Emma, and in the time it takes to get here, Agnes will have had something to eat and maybe some more to drink."
"Perfect!" Daphne said a little too enthusiastically, placing a hand on Agnes' bare arm and gently prodding her toward the food table.
She didn't appreciate the pressure to make nice, but she obliged knowing Al was on that phone and that a taxi would be coming for her soon. She grabbed a cocktail napkin and placed some skewers of cherry tomato, bocconcini and basil drizzled with twelve year old balsamic vinegar on it, adding a couple of spring rolls. Maybe Emma would share this with her.
When she turned around, though, she realized Emma was still with her parents, chatting with Al's extended family, and just as she realized she was on her own amid the growing crowd of guests enjoying wine, a voice behind her said, "Hello, Mrs. Marinville."
She knew immediately who it was. She took a second to brace herself before she turned and looked into the eyes of John Mercer.
He was with his wife, which was somewhat of a relief. She didn't think he'd try to do her physical harm with his wife next to him; that more than the fact that they were in public was a comfort to her. He was older, perhaps in his seventies, but he still retained the ghost of the good looks he must have had in his youth; he still had a full head of silver hair, and his skin hadn't succumbed to gravity. More than that, though, in his tuxedo, which was not rented as Al's was but fitted to him by a tailor, he exuded a kind of force field of mingled charisma and menace that must have made him formidable as a businessman; people would listen to him because they'd feel helpless to do anything else, spellbound as they'd be by his presence.
"Hello," was all she could make herself say.
"I was surprised to see you here," he said. "I was informed you'd left the Okanagan and returned to your family home."
She felt a chill run down her spine. She'd been right to be concerned for her parents' safety. They'd probably found her at their house. "I have," she said. "I got a new job at the Vancouver Public Library, so I'm all set up there."
"Well, that's good," he said. "I don't think you've met my wife, Danielle."
If he was introducing her to his wife, maybe he wasn't planning on killing her. She offered her hand. "No, I think I only met your son. Luke, was it?"
"That's right," Danielle said. "He's my second born. Now that J.J. is gone, he'll inherit the legacy."
Another chill. She knew who Agnes was, too, if she was mentioning J.J. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Danielle nodded and smiled sadly, her lip quivering in her attempt to hold it together. "Well, he finally got justice, didn't he. I think he'll sleep well, now."
"Justice?" Agnes asked, playing dumb.
Danielle gave her a pitying smile and said, "His murderer got his comeuppance, and his ex-wife got hers."
What did that mean? Did they kill Heather Redfern too? Was this the reason for the sudden interest in Agnes' testimony from the prosecutor? She didn't dare ask, because she didn't want to know the answer, and she was sure they wouldn't risk incriminating themselves by saying it. The whole fucking family was evil. Maybe she needed to change her mind about Danielle; the woman would probably shiv her in front of all these people if it suited her.
"So, with that," John said, "the balance is restored, and no further recompense is needed."
Agnes stared dumbly at them for a second. Were they implying she was safe? She couldn't believe it for a second.
"So, if you moved back home," John said, "what brings you back to the Okanagan?"
"Just this event," she said. "My friend Al is a cousin of Rick's. Rick invited Al and three guests to come to this event tonight, and Al invited me along. Congratulations, by the way, on your daughter's engagement."
"Thank you," John said.
"Is she your youngest?"
"In fact, she isn't," Danielle said with a stiff smile. "As I'm sure you can understand, Mrs. Marinville, adultery has its consequences."
Agnes blinked at the woman's forthrightness. Maybe she was the one who held the power in this family. "I'm changing my name back to Chu," she said.
"Good for you," Danielle said indulgently.
Agnes wasn't sure why she said what she said next. "Do those consequences include bringing the children of affairs into the family?"
To her surprise, John burst out laughing. "I like her," he said to his wife.
"She's not coming home with us," Danielle said. "That's too sick even for you."
Agnes thought she was going to be sick. "If you'll excuse me," she said, "I need to--"
"Why don't you introduce us to your friend Al," John said. "You left before we could be introduced, earlier."
"Yeah, sorry," Agnes said. "My kids phoned. They were missing me."
"Oh, did you leave them at home?" Christine asked.
"Yes!" Agnes said a little too brightly, masking her dread that they'd be aware her kids were somewhere nearby. She raised her hand and called, "Al, over here! Meet the Mercers!"
Al's mouth dropped open when he saw who was with her. He cut short a conversation he was having with Marie and hurried over to them. "Al Mackenzie," Agnes said, "This is John and Danielle Mercer."
"A pleasure," John said, offering his hand. Al looked like he'd do anything but shake it, but he was too polite to refuse. As they shook, John said, "Mrs. Marinville tells me you're a cousin of Rick's."
"That's right," Al said as he shook Danielle's hand while putting his other hand in the pocket that, Agnes was sure, contained the glass shard. "Tonight was our first meeting. We didn't grow up together. In fact, the whole side of the family was unfamiliar to me until very recently."
"Is that right?" John said. "Why is that?"
Al shrugged. "Our fathers were estranged. A long-ago falling out. My father passed away some time ago, and I'm at a time in my life when I want to reconnect with my roots."
A phone rang, and Al reached into his pocket. "Sorry," he said. He looked at the screen, and his face sagged in relief as he answered. "Hello? Oh, yes. We'll be out in a minute." He hung up and said, "Agnes, that's your cab."
"Oh, are you leaving already?" John asked, sounding disappointed.
"I'm afraid so," Agnes said, making herself sound regretful even though inside she was dancing for joy. "I'm taking Al's daughter Emma back to the hotel so she can watch a movie before bed."
"That's very kind of you," Danielle said dubiously. "Was this also the reason you were invited, to be a babysitter?"
Agnes felt her hackles rise, sensing an insult, but she played nice. "No, but we decided together that Emma would have more fun back at the hotel, since she's the only person her age here."
"I'll escort you out," Al said, taking her hand. "It was nice meeting you both."
Without a word, he led her away, holding out his hand for Emma. "The taxi's here," he said. "We'll be right back," he said to Rachel.
"Be careful," she said sotto voce.
He nodded and took Emma's hand. The three of them went to the bouncer at the entrance, and Al informed him he'd be back after bringing them to the taxi.
Between the canopy and the porte cochere, where the taxi waited, Agnes felt very, very exposed, as if a sniper in a tree had a bead on her and was just waiting to take a shot. If Al weren't holding her hand, she didn't think she'd be able to make the crossing.
It wasn't a sniper in a tree they had to worry about. Another car was in the roundabout, a BMW 7 series sedan. Its doors opened, and the driver and another man, both large and in suits, stepped out. "Mrs. Marinville," the driver called out.
Al hurried both of them to the waiting cab, paying no mind to the two men who were rapidly gaining on them. "Dad, you're hurting my hand," Emma complained.
"Sorry, kiddo," Al said. "Didn't mean to. You and Agnes get in the cab as fast as you can, okay? Agnes, tell the driver to floor it before you even strap in."
"What's going on?" Emma asked. "You're scaring me."
"We'll explain later, Emma," Agnes said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Just do what your dad says."
"Mrs. Marinville!" the other goon shouted, and they were sprinting now to catch up. "You're to come with us!"
Al pushed them both ahead of them, and Agnes noticed his hand reaching into his pocket as she reached for the door handle of the taxi. She also noticed two other cars just pulling into the roundabout. Jesus, were these reinforcements for the goons?
"Stop!" One of the goons grabbed her arm hard. She shrieked in surprise and indignation. Emma screamed too. She had no idea who these men were and why they were grabbing at her.
Then the goon screamed as Al plunged the glass shard into the hand holding her arm. He let go just long enough for Agnes to open the door and shove Emma into the backseat, but just as she was about to slip inside herself, she saw the other goon plunge something into Al's back, saw Al crumple to the ground, and
She saw
The love of her life
Bleeding on the gravel drive
And she screamed
And screamed
And screamed
And even the sudden wailing of sirens
Couldn't drown her out.
Thanks for reading this far! Things are looking dark for Al again. Will he be lucky a second time, or is this it? If you liked what you read so far, hit "Vote" to send this title up the ranks. If anything doesn't ring true about doorbell cameras, leave a comment and let me know; I strive for authenticity.
To see how Al thinks about this mess, and say hello to two returning guests, click on "Continue reading."