Tears Of Pride. Lisa Jackson
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do you?” Round, gray eyes challenged the attorney.
The question Jonas had been avoiding made him squirm against the window ledge. He rubbed his hands on the knees of his suit pants, stalling for time to compose a suitable answer. He wanted to be kind. “I don’t know, Sheila. It seems unlikely…. Oliver had such zest for life…. But, sometimes, when his back is up against the wall, a man will do just about anything to preserve what he has worked for all of his life.”
Sheila closed her eyes. “Then you do believe it,” she whispered, feeling suddenly small and very much alone. “Just like the police and the press. They all think that Dad started the fire himself and got caught in it by mistake…or that he took his own life.”
“No one suggested—”
“No one had to! Just look at the front page of the paper! It’s been four weeks, and the newspapers are still having a field day!”
“Cascade Valley employed a lot of people from around here. Since it’s been closed, unemployment in the valley has doubled. There’s no two ways about it, Sheila. Cascade Valley is news. Big news.” Jonas’s voice was meant to be soothing, but Sheila refused to be comforted.
“I guess I don’t see why everyone seems to think that my father killed himself. Why would he do that—for the money?”
“Who knows?” Jonas shrugged his aging shoulders as he made his way to the desk. “All of the talk—it’s only speculation.”
“It’s slander!” Sheila accused, lifting her regal chin upward defiantly. “My father was a decent, law-abiding citizen, and nothing will change that. He would never…” Her voice cracked with the strain of the past month as she remembered the gentle man who had raised her. Since her mother’s death five years before, Sheila had become closer to her father. The last time she had seen him alive, just last spring vacation, he had been so robust and healthy that Sheila still found it impossible to believe he was gone. When she had visited him, he had been remote and preoccupied, but Sheila had chalked it up to the problems that the winery was experiencing at the time. Although her father had seemed distant, Sheila was sure that no problem at Cascade Valley had been serious enough to cause him to take his life. He had been stronger than that.
Sheila managed to compose herself. There was too much pride in her slender body to allow Jonas Fielding to witness the extent of her grief. “Is there any way I can get the winery operating again?”
Jonas shook his balding head. “I doubt it. The insurance company is balking at paying the settlement because of the possibility of arson.”
Sheila sighed wearily, and her shoulders sagged. Jonas hesitated before continuing. “There’s more to it than that,” he admitted.
Sheila’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“The papers that were in your father’s safety deposit box—did you read them?”
“No…I was too upset at the time. I brought everything here.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Why?”
“I found the partnership papers among the rest. Did you know that Oliver didn’t own the business alone?”
“Yes.”
The elderly attorney seemed to relax a little. “Have you ever met his business partner?”
“Years ago—when I was very young. But what does Ben Wilder have to do with anything?” she asked, confused by the twist in the conversation and Jonas’s inability to meet her gaze.
“As I understand it, when the business was purchased nearly eighteen years ago, Ben and Oliver were equal partners.” Sheila nodded, remembering the day when her father had made the ecstatic announcement that he had purchased the rustic old winery nestled deep in the eastern foothills of the Cascades. “However, during the course of the last few years, Oliver was forced to borrow money from Wilder Investments…to cover expenses. He put up his share of the business as collateral.”
A tight, uneasy feeling gripped Sheila’s stomach. “You didn’t know about that?”
Jonas shook his head. “All the legal work was done by Ben Wilder’s attorneys. I would have advised Oliver against it.
Sheila suddenly felt guilty as she remembered the course of events over the past five years. “Why exactly did Dad borrow the money?”
Jonas was evasive. He rubbed his palms together. “Several reasons…the economy had been rotten…and then there was a problem with the tampered bottles in Montana. From what I can see in the ledgers, sales have been down for several years.”
“But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Sheila whispered. Her throat became dry as she began to understand the reasons for her father’s debt to Ben Wilder. It was her fault! Guilt, in an overpowering rush, settled in her heart.
Jonas dreaded what he had to say. “Your father took out the loan four years ago.”
Sheila blanched. Her suspicions were confirmed.
Hesitating only slightly, the old attorney continued. “As I remember, there were several reasons for the loan. The most important thing at the time was that Oliver wanted to help you recover from your divorce from Jeff. Your father thought you should go back to school for your master’s degree. He didn’t want for you or Emily to be denied anything you might need, just because your marriage had failed.”
“Oh, God, no!” Sheila sighed. She closed her eyes against the truth and sank lower into the chair. At the time of the divorce she hadn’t wanted to take her father’s money, but he hadn’t given her much of a choice. She was a single mother without a job or the skill for decent employment. Her father had insisted that she attend a private school in California where the tuition along with the living expenses for herself and Emily were outrageous. Oliver had forced the money upon her, telling her that the California sun would help her forget about Jeff and the unhappy marriage. Begrudgingly she had accepted her father’s help, assuring herself that she would pay him back with interest.
That had been over four years ago, and so far, Sheila hadn’t managed to pay him a penny in return. Now her father was dead. He had never once mentioned that Cascade Valley was in financial trouble. Then again, Sheila had never asked. Guilt took a stranglehold of her throat.
Jonas handed her the partnership papers. She glanced through them and saw that the attorney’s assessment of the situation was correct. After perusing the documents, Sheila raised her head and handed the papers back to her father’s elderly friend.
“If only your father had come to me,” Jonas offered. “I could have avoided this mess.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Pride, I’d guess. It’s all water under the bridge now.”
“There’s a letter demanding repayment of the loan to Wilder Investments,” Sheila thought aloud.
“I know.”
“But it wasn’t written by Ben Wilder. The signature is…” Sheila’s voice failed her, and her brows drew together as she recognized the name.
“Noah Wilder. Ben’s son.”
Sheila became pensive. She didn’t know much about the man; Noah Wilder had always been a mystery to her. Despite her grief for her father, she was intrigued. “Is he in charge now?”
“Only temporarily, until Ben returns from Mexico.”
“Have you talked to either Ben or his son and asked them if they might consider extending the loan?” Sheila asked, her tired mind finally taking hold of the situation. Without help from Wilder Investments Cascade Valley Winery was out of business.
“I’ve had trouble getting through to Noah,” Jonas admitted. “He hasn’t returned any of my calls. I’m still working on the insurance company.”