The moment the SUV disappeared, silence settled over the vineyard like fog.
Claire turned on her heel. “We need to scrub the phone.”
Norma was already pulling a portable signal jammer from her oversized purse. “Way ahead of you. Bless the paranoid prepper I dated in ’97.”
She flipped the switch, and the jammer blinked to life.
Maggie bent over the porch railing, watching the road like it might sprout more SUVs. “Do we really think he’s calling? That wasn’t a threat, that was foreplay.”
Madeline picked up the burner phone, staring at its cracked screen like it might speak to her. “He’ll call,” she said quietly. “That woman wasn’t bluffing. Knox wants me nervous. Unbalanced. That’s the game.”
“Then we flip the board,” Maggie said. “Come on, we’ll monitor from the tasting room.”
Inside
