Chapter 24 - Shadows in the Mountains
For the next three weeks, the vineyard became our entire world.
While Julian threw himself into restoring the neglected irrigation lines and pruning the wild grapevines alongside local vineyard workers from the nearby village, I spent my days renovating the hacienda and spending unbroken hours with Tessa and the boys. Leo and Julian Jr. learned to ride horses, built wooden forts under the weeping willows, and finally slept through the night without waking up in terror from the memory of black SUVs and flashing red lights.
The corporate world of Phoenix felt a thousand miles away. Whitlock Resorts was currently under federal receivership, being restructured by a board of honest executives under the guidance of retired Judge Pendelton. My mother, isolated in her Swiss exile, had stopped calling entirely.
The illusion of control that had poisoned our family for generations was finally dead.
Until a rainy Tuesday afternoon in late October.
The mountain weather shifted abruptly, rolling heavy, slate-gray storm clouds over the peaks and unleashing a torrential downpour that rattled the old glass panes of the hacienda.
We were gathered around the massive oak dining table eating lunch when the heavy brass knocker on the front door echoed through the house.
Three sharp, deliberate raps.
Julian stopped buttering a piece of bread, his eyes narrowing instantly toward the foyer. I set my fork down, pushed my chair back, and reached instinctively for the holster resting on the sideboard—though I hadn't worn it in weeks.
"Stay here," I told Tessa, who gripped my wrist with a look of sudden, intuitive dread.
May you like
"Grant, nobody knows we're here except the local hardware store and the village grocer," she whispered.
"I know," I said, walking out into the dim hallway.
