Page 74 of The Spare

Once I’m home, I walk into the kitchen, pouring myself a strong cup of coffee, when my phone vibrates on the counter. Seeing the New York area code on the screen, I swipe to accept the call immediately. “Mr. Sterling,” I answer, placing the call on speakerphone. “Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.”

“Of course, Sam,” Aaron’s deep voice comes through the line. “I got your message. What the hell happened last night?”

I pull out a stool at the island and sit down, rubbing a hand over my exhausted face. “We had a fire on the property late yesterday evening. Gutted the lower storage barn and wiped out a significant portion of the back quadrant of our harvest.”

Aaron pauses on the other end. “A fire? What did they think caused it?”

“The fire marshal suspects arson.”

“Jesus, Sam,” Aaron breathes, the usual professionalism in his tone giving way to genuine shock. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes. All things considered, we were lucky. Everyone is safe,” I reassure him. “That’s the only thing keeping me sane right now. But I need to make sure you’re kept in the loop on everything, especially given the timing of all this.”

“Understood.”

I fill him in on all the details. Advise him of the suspects the fire and law enforcement agencies are investigating.

“I appreciate you telling me right away. On that note, I actually have a bit of good news for you. The funds from the trust have officially cleared probate and should be ready to be deposited into your account today.”

I become more alert at his words, my grip tightening on the coffee mug at the unfamiliar feeling of something positive related to the vineyard. “Yes. That is good news. Now more than ever I need to settle our accounts and start trying to repair what’s left of this season’s harvest. But these funds will only ever be utilized by Sutter Creek. Please ensure they are deposited directly into the business account, not my personal account. And ensure my mother is restricted from accessing it.”

“That’s not a problem,” Aaron answers smoothly. “However you wish to proceed. But let me be clear. Your grandfather did not stipulate that this had to go directly to Sutter Creek, Sam. Just that the vineyard had to be solvent by a dollar in order to access additional funds in the future. If you’re still married, that is.”

My face falls. I won’t tie Alexis to this place, or me, a day longer than she initially agreed. She’ll only stay my wife because that’s what she wants. “I understand.”

A heavy beat of silence passes before he speaks again, his tone dropping an octave. “Sam, do you really think your mother could be behind this?”

A familiar weight presses down on me. Sure, they were just words, but she’s been capable of destroying things for years. Why not this? “I have no idea. But it’s sad that I even have to consider it.”

“You’re right,” Aaron agrees. “We’ll ensure her access is locked down tight with the bank.”

“Thanks, Aaron. There’s actually something else regarding the trust I’d like to discuss with you, but it’s going to have to wait until later,” I share, looking out the kitchen window toward the blackened fields. “The fire and the loss of the grapes have forced my hand. Settling the company’s debt and ensuring we have enough grapes sourced to have a successful season are my top priorities right now. But hopefully, I can meet with you in the future to discuss a few things.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. Talk soon.”

“Thanks.” I end the call, set the phone on the counter, and take a steadying breath. It’s finally done. The funds are there. Now comes the work of getting Sutter Creek headed in the right direction.

Lexi

“This is impressive, Parker.” I’m sitting across from a candidate I’m interviewing to join our practice. His CV is even better than I anticipated.

Parker Hamilton is an up-and-comer who recently completed his fellowship at the Cleveland Clinic. He’s originally from Hanover, but attended Johns Hopkins Medical School after graduating from UVA, and now he’s preparing to return to his hometown.

“You have a remarkable resume, Dr. Hamilton.” I fold my hands over his file.

“Thank you, Dr. Patterson,” Parker replies with a warm, genuine smile. “But please call me Parker. Honestly, it’s an honor to be sitting here. You’ve continued to manage an amazing practice. I’ve had an immense amount of respect for Hanover Urology for a long time.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” I lean back slightly. “What brought Hanover back onto your radar after your fellowship at the Cleveland Clinic?”

“It’s home,” he replies. “This clinic means a lot to my family, personally. My father received treatment here for prostate cancer years ago. Your grandfather took care of him before he retired.”

My expression softens. “Oh, how is he doing?”

Parker’s eyes flick down for a moment, emotion in his voice. “Sadly, he passed away last year. But your grandfather gave him many more years than he might have had otherwise. And for that, I’m incredibly grateful.”

A gentle ache squeezes my chest at the mention of his father’s death. But it’s paired with a deep sense of pride. “I’m sorry for your loss, Parker. My grandfather was the very heart of this practice. I try to carry on that same level of care each day. And from everything I see here, you’d certainly do the same.” I stand up, rounding the desk to shake his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll review everything and be in touch soon. Let me walk you out.”

As I escort Parker down the main corridor toward the lobby, I catch sight of Chad standing by the receptionist desk. His arms are folded tight across his chest, giving me his usual malicious sneer as we walk past. He must realize I’m interviewing potential replacements. And by his current glare, he’s clearly not happy about it.