Free 2 Crushed by Barbara Ellen Brink

said, unsure
what was expected of him.
    Mario grunted and shook his head.
He turned and headed back to the red pickup parked at the end of the field, his
short legs, encased in baggy khakis, made quick time over the rough dirt track.
Adam assumed the lesson was over and followed. He popped a grape in his mouth
and chewed slowly, trying to get an idea of what Mario was so excited about.
Not that he was a connoisseur of grunts, but it seemed that his grunts had
escalated as they’d checked grapes on each acre and nearly every row.
    He glanced toward the Parker place.
A blue convertible was backing away from the house. He was too far away to see
the driver, but from the make and model of the vehicle, they must be loaded.
He’d never be rich enough to drive a car like that. Probably some wealthy dude
from San Francisco out touring wineries and got lost. The car turned onto the
highway and was soon out of sight. He glanced back at the house and saw
Margaret sprinting in from the field. A moment later she yanked open the garage
access door and disappeared inside.
    Mario tapped the horn of the
pickup. Adam hurried to catch up. He opened the passenger door and climbed in.
They rode the rutted road back around to the winery and Mario parked in the
shade of a big tree. He took the box with the sample clusters they’d collected
from each row and hurried across the gravel parking area, his work boots
kicking up a cloud of dust with each step. Adam followed and pulled open the
winery door for the man.
    “Hey you two. Been out in the
fields all this time?” Sally said when they stopped at the front office. “You
look a little sunburned, Minnesota,” she teased.
    “Miss Fredrickson?” Mario
interrupted, intent on his purpose.
    Sally hooked a thumb toward the
back of the building. “She’s in the barrel room, I think.”
    Mario started down the hallway.
    “You better pick up a bottle of
water in the fridge first. You looked parched.”
    Adam wiped his forehead with the
sleeve of his t-shirt. “It must be ninety degrees today. Glad I’m not wearing a
hooded sweatshirt like Mario. That man soaks up heat like a rock. It doesn’t
faze him.”
    “He’s used to it. You, on the other
hand, look just this side of a heatstroke.”
    “I’ll survive. Besides, the barrel
room is in the cellar, right? It’s cool down there.” He turned to follow Mario
and stopped. He poked his head back in the door. “Sally, do you know anyone
that drives a blue convertible Ferrari?”
    Her brows went up along with her
interest. “No, but I’m open to an introduction. Love me a powerful engine.” She
stood up and moved toward the window. “Someone visiting the winery?”
    He shook his head. “Just saw one
over at the Parker place.”
    “Probably one of Handel’s rich
clients.”
    “He has a lot of wealthy clients?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve
heard rumors. Some say he’s in bed with mobsters, but I think it’s just jealous
talk. He’s beaten some of the best attorneys around, and they all hate to lose.
Winning is inbred in them, or at the very least, force-fed to them in law
school.”
    His gaze narrowed. “You can’t
really believe that—about the mobsters. My sister would never get
involved with someone like that.”
    Sally laughed and shook her head,
moving back to her desk. “I said there were rumors. I didn’t say I believed
them. I’ve known Handel nearly his entire life. He’s a good guy.”
    Sometimes he had a hard time
knowing when Sally was joking and when she was serious. He released the breath
of a laugh. “Just call me gullible.”
    “I do,” she said with a grin,
“daily.”
    He went in search of the barrel
room. A flight of stairs led down to the lower level where the temperature
instantly dropped another fifteen degrees. The change in temperature cooled the
sweat in his shirt and sent a chill down his arms.
    “There you are.” Billie waved him
over.
    Billie, Mario, and Ernesto
inspected and