“I’m not surprised. It’s kind of a complicated vault. Does Prescott have anything to do with your interest in this?”

“He does … did.”

“I’d be interested in hearing your story,” she said. “And I have an idea. What if we meet in Williamsburg instead of Charlottesville? I could show you the excavation site at Bruton Parish and you could tell me what Prescott Avery was up to, still looking for that vault.”

“When and where?” I said.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “Could you be there by ten-thirty?”

“We could. You also said you’re going to be in Jamestown?”

There was another pregnant pause.

“I see,” she said. “I’m guessing you want the whole story about the vault, or rather its supposed contents. Not just whether anyone uncovered anything in Williamsburg. Am I correct?”

“It would be helpful,” I said. “Do you believe the vault existed?”

“I’m a scientist,” she said. “I know there was no vault on the site we excavated. Before I got interested in studying grape growing and winemaking, I got my undergraduate and graduate degrees in geology. My interest at that time was in studying soil and mapping groundwater development in Colonial Virginia—specifically the Jamestown Settlement—and that was also the subject of my dissertation.”

“How did you go from geology to being interested in making wine and growing grapes?” I asked.

I could hear her shrug through the phone. “Simple,” she said, her drawl stretching the word into two long syllables. “Twelve years after the Jamestown Colony was founded, the Virginia House of Burgesses passed a law that required every adult male to plant and care for at least ten grapevines. You got in a heap of trouble if you didn’t. The Founding Fathers—especially Washington and Jefferson—were desperate to produce American wines that could compete with the Europeans. Having an American wine industry was a big deal.”

“I remember reading about that.”

“Every winemaker in Virginia ought to know that story by heart,” she said and it sounded like an admonishment. “Personally I’ve been a fan of Virginia wine—a believer—since the very beginning. Since Jamestown. Long before the Californians even thought about making wine.”

I grinned. It was an old rivalry. We were first. They were biggest and best known. David and Goliath.

“Why don’t we meet in Jamestown?” Josie was saying. “Not the Jamestown Settlement, but Historic Jamestowne. You know the difference, right? Historic Jamestowne is the excavation site on the river. Then we can drive back to Williamsburg and stop by Bruton Parish. Ten-thirty still work for you?”

“Ten-thirty sounds great,” I said. “Thank you for doing this.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “And just so we’re clear, I’ll answer what questions I can, but I have a few things to ask you, too. Sounds like Prescott wouldn’t let this go, even after the Bruton Parish excavation didn’t turn up any evidence of a hidden vault.”