“Lucie, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be coming down from the big house and I’m late, so I was in a rush to get home. My head is somewhere else lately, but that’s no excuse.”

“It’s okay,” I said, though I was shaken by what had almost happened. “No harm done.”

Relief flooded his face. “Thank God. Need some help getting unstuck?”

“No, thanks. The Jeep drives like a tank. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s good.” He gave me a curious look. “What brings you here?”

“Your father asked me to drop by.”

“Ah.”

His profile was faintly illuminated by the lights from the console of his gold Lexus SUV. Just like his father, the strain of the last two days appeared to be getting to him and he looked exhausted. If I’d met him a few seconds earlier as he roared around that curve, he knew just as I did that one of us would probably be calling 911 now instead of having this conversation. If we were lucky.

“Everything okay with you and Pop?” he asked. I could hear the thrum of tension in his voice.

He wasn’t going to ask directly, but he wanted to know why Clayton had summoned me to Hawthorne Castle. There was no reason not to tell him at least part of the truth.

“He wanted to know what your grandfather and I talked about when he invited me down to his wine cellar the day of the party,” I said. “I told him that he asked if I’d sell him some wine. Unfortunately we no longer have it.”

“Oh.” He seemed relieved it was something as innocuous as buying wine. I wasn’t about to get into the rest of it.

“How are you doing, Scott? I know you and Bianca and the kids must be going through hell right now.”

His face cracked into an are-you-kidding-me ironic smile. “Nico went back to Brown yesterday, we figured it was best for him to try to get back to normal, but Kellie’s in tough shape. I probably don’t need to tell you that Alex, Dad, and I are in the crosshairs of the Loudoun County Sheriff’s Office’s investigation. They think one of us killed my grandfather.” He shook his head as if he were trying to clear his mind or wake up from a bad dream. “Plus apparently someone overheard Alex and me arguing on Saturday. I said some things I didn’t really mean.”

I was glad he didn’t know it was Quinn who’d stumbled onto their argument. He had said it sounded vicious. On both sides.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “Bobby will get to the bottom of it. He knows how to sort out the difference between the truth and someone blowing off steam.”

“Let’s hope so.” He didn’t sound optimistic.