Page 41 of Last Shot

Lord help him.

When the soft splashes of water confirmed Max’s submersion, he looked up. Thankfully she was so short that her chin was barely out of the water. She gave him a quizzical look.

He had never been so grateful AI technology had not yet advanced to scanning thoughts. Luca and Frankie smirked at him from their little canopy of trees. Thankfully, Max couldn’t see. He’d bet his left kidney Arnold was also smirking from wherever he’d skulked off to.

‘Why the tight security?’ Tomaso asked. ‘Is someone plotting our murders?’

Frankie gave a little squeal.

Grey automatically made ashhing sound like he was calming a baby. Like he used to help the nanny get Frankie and Luca to sleep. ‘My job is to wake up every day assuming the entire world wants you all murdered, Tom,’ Grey said.

Max swirled the skin of the water with her hands. The ripples sloshed over Tom’s chest and his glare deepened.

‘Max has some intel about a potential threat,’ Grey continued. ‘But I don’t want to alarm anyone. Could be scare tactics, could be rumours. I just need to know if you’ve noticed anyone strange coming through the winery over the past few days. Anyone who’s been asking questions about the gala or the layout of the house, anyone you’ve noticed taking pictures outside of the roof.’

Tomaso breathed out slowly. ‘You’ve just described pretty much every second customer, Greyson.’

Grey sighed. ‘Anyone that stood out to you? I trust your instincts. Of course I’ll go through the security footage, but I thought to save time ...’

‘If anyone was planning anything, it would be the La Marcas,’ Tomaso said, his irritation dissolving as Grey lathered on the compliments. ‘And I don’t let any of them into my winery.’

‘What about this guy?’ Max asked, reaching for her phone, which she’d left slightly too far out of reach on the rocky edge of the pool in a nest of Nella’s clothes. Too late for him to turn away without making it painfully obvious that’s what he was doing. She leveraged herself out of the steaming water to just above her hips and quickly re-submerged, her arm sticking out to hand Tom her phone. Quickly was not quick enough. ‘He could have been disguised. Maybe with a beard or a scarf or something.’ Grey didn’t need to look to know she’d brought up a photo of Kaine Skinner.

Tom studied the photo like it was the answers to an important test he’d be sitting soon.

After an eternity, Tom returned the phone. ‘I haven’t seen him. My apologies.’

‘Why are you worried about people taking photos of the roof?’ Luca interjected.

‘Snipers,’ Max said casually, half turning towards the second youngest Barbarani. ‘They often scope out the area before they set up, work out where they’re going to shoot from – the best angle, wind speeds, stuff like that.’

‘You need to know all this to be a security guard?’ Tomaso asked.

‘Only if you want to be good at your job,’ Max replied.

‘Has this got something to do with thecompromisedwine?’ Tom asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Grey said honestly, running a hand over his jaw. He really needed to stop doing that and just shave.

‘There is no way that wine was contaminated,’ Tom said. ‘Absolutely no way.’ Grey could tell he was burning to ask more; he’d been personally affronted when Grey brought it up at the family meeting, because the running of the winery was all Tom. Gio was the figurehead, Tom was the rest of the body.

‘You mean there’s no way it was contaminated in your winery,’ Max said, eyebrows raised. ‘The wine still goes through a few processes and middle-men before it goes to the stores or the restaurants, right? Something could have happened to it there.’

Grey glared at her.Leave it alone.

Why?she glared back.

It’s not connected to this murder plot. Let it go.

Make me.

Of course he was just guessing at what Max’s expressions meant. But he figured from the look she gave him after that last one that he was pretty accurate.

‘I want to cross-check the final guest list for the gala with recent purchases from the winery,’ Grey said. ‘Will you give me access to those credit card statements?’

Tom shrugged. ‘I’ll have to check with Giovanni.’

Grey would never get used to Tom calling Gio by his first name instead of ‘Dad’ or ‘Papa’ like the rest of the kids. ‘It’s sort of urgent, Tom.’

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