Nowhere to Hide by Nancy Bush Page A

to the way he’d looked at her when he’d realized she’d put him specifically under the microscope. She’d seen disappointment and aversion in his eyes, and it had about killed her. She almost preferred thinking about the earlier meeting with her father, which was saying quite a lot about how much she didn’t want to think about Jake.
    When September had arrived at The Willows, Braden was in a deep discussion with July about the upcoming harvest and a possible “Crush” weekend, where guests were invited to help crush the grapes, taste wine, basically eat, drink, and be merry in a kind of festival. Braden abhorred the idea while July was thinking it would be great publicity for the winery. September thought it sounded like fun as long as she didn’t have to head it up, and said as much, which earned her a cool look from her father.
    “How’s your brother?” he asked her in return.
    “Auggie’s fine.”
    “You’re just like him, aren’t you?”
    His tone reflected what he thought about that, so she’d quickly changed the subject and told him about her desire to search the house, figuring she was on a downward track of his goodwill and she’d better get out what she needed fast. He brusquely told her she was welcome to look around the house and that he would talk to Rosamund about it, then he was gone. September and July had been left looking after his tall form striding away.
    “Is he as much of a pain in the ass as I think he is?” July had asked.
    “Auggie and I can’t do anything right, so yeah, he is.”
    “That’s only because you went into law enforcement and thumbed your nose at all things Rafferty.”
    “You, at least, have a job,” September pointed out to her older sister. “I wasn’t going to hang around and hope there was something I wanted to do in the company, and that it would also be something he would allow me to do.”
    “I don’t know why he’s against Crushin’ It. You ever been to the one in Washington? It’s fun. And it would create great goodwill, and put our product out there. We don’t have time to really put together a big thing this year, but we could get started, get some buzz going, and make it a regular event.”
    “Sounds like you’ve been giving it a lot of thought.”
    “Our wine’s too expensive,” she said. “That’s a fact. If we priced it better and got it to more people, it would sell better, but Dad and March are such . . .” She shrugged. “They don’t listen to me.”
    September just nodded.
    “The weather’s bound to break soon, too,” she went on. “Then it could be really nice. Harvest is starting. This is when it’s all happening and he knows that.”
    “The fact that you can work with him at all . . . you’re a better woman than I.”
    “You don’t believe that for a minute, Detective Rafferty,” she said with a smile. “So, what brought you here. Dad, I know. But you could have connected with him in Laurelton if you’d really wanted to.”
    “I like it here,” September admitted. “And I went to the house once already and was stonewalled by Rosamund.”
    “Can you believe she’s pregnant?” July asked grimly. “Verna was at least smart enough to keep from getting pregnant. But then she already had Stefan, and that probably cured her for good.”
    “I think Rosamund really wants this baby,” September said.
    “Yeah, well, it ties her into the Rafferty money at another level, something Verna never managed to do. January. . .” she muttered, testing it out.
    “She wants to name the baby Gilda.”
    July snorted. “It’ll be January, bet you a case of Cat’s Paw,” she said, referring to one of their most expensive Pinot Noirs.
    “No bet,” September said.
    “I’m the one who should be pregnant,” July said a moment later.
    “You want a baby?” This was news to September.
    “I’m thirty-four and counting. Sometimes I think I should just get pregnant and figure the rest out later.”
    “Thirty-four’s