Vail 02 - Crush (42 page)

Dixon took Highway 121, then turned left onto 12.

“Isn’t this the same way we went to Sonoma?”

“It is. But not nearly as far. We’re gonna turn off 12 in a few minutes, into the Carneros Region. Carneros is known for its Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. But Artesa is one of my favorite places to take guests when they come to visit. It’s like an art museum rolled into a winery.”

Dixon drove up the curving driveway and parked in the visitor’s lot. “We’re early. Let me take you the long way around, show you the view.”

As they walked along the path from the car, they came to a large circular pond with a fountain shaped like a short martini glass. Water cascaded over the edges and landed in the surrounding pool. Large, glistening, silver railroad-spike-shaped sculptures stood erect along its periphery.

“What are those things sticking up?” Vail asked.

“Hell if I know. They’re cool looking, that’s for sure.”

Beyond, the vineyard-blanketed rolling hills stretched for miles in all directions.

“Carneros,” Dixon said, holding a hand against her forehead to
shield the sun. “And the Napa Valley. Off in the distance is San Francisco.”

Vail followed suit and brought up a hand as if ready to salute. “Stunning.”

Dixon tapped her on the shoulder. “The view gets better as we go up.” She led Vail up the four flights of cement stairs, which featured a trickling waterfall along its centermost rim. At the crest of the top step was a short landing and another flight of stairs. But just ahead was a cement bridge that featured an expansive pool on both sides, with water jets that shot bursts of narrow water streams at a 45 degree angle.

“Impressive,” Vail said, slowing to watch the water arc through the air.

In front of them was the winery—and their appointment with Marc Benezra. The building was completely enveloped by clumps of wild grasses, save for the glass-walled entrance and a large V-shaped windowed bay jutting out by the left side of the mound.

They walked through the doors and found a richly appointed wood entry with freestanding metal and blown-glass artwork. They moved past the gift shop into the tasting room, an irregularly shaped area sporting smooth columns and floor-to-ceiling windows. Seated at one of the small tables on the far side of the room was a dark-suited man. He rose and buttoned his coat.

They approached and introduced themselves. Benezra was a shade over six two, with horn-rimmed glasses and a sharp-featured face that was all business. “Thanks for switching our meeting place,” he said. “One of the employees here is a client I’m meeting at ten thirty, so this gave us more time to chat.”

Vail took a seat in one of the ultramodern wood and metal chairs. “No big deal. This is my first time here, and if we hadn’t met here, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the chance to see it.”

Benezra took his seat. “Quite the treat, isn’t it?”

Vail looked behind Benezra at the wall of glass and the view beyond.

“We’ve got some questions,” Dixon said. “About Isaac Jenkins and the lawsuit he and Victoria Cameron were discussing with you.”

Benezra’s face widened into a smile. “You must know I can’t talk about that without my client present.”

Dixon nodded, as if she agreed. But then she said, “Sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your clients are dead.”

Benezra’s mouth dropped open ever so slightly. “When? How?”

“Very recently. As to how . . . we can’t say just yet. But their deaths are being kept quiet. For now. I’m going to have to ask you to respect that.”

Benezra’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What’s—” He stopped, revelation relaxing his facial muscles.

Vail nodded slowly. He had just put it together. Cops coming around to ask about two clients who are suddenly dead. She figured he had realized there were suspicious circumstances surrounding their deaths.
And he’d be right.

“So,” Vail said, “I’d strongly suggest you help us. That’s all I can say.” Benezra still looked stunned by the news. “I still can’t discuss anything to do with Isaac’s business. Does Todd know?” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and removed his phone.

Dixon placed a hand on Benezra’s. “You can’t discuss this with Mr. Nicholson.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Dixon. Remove your hand.”

Dixon kept it there. “This is a very serious matter, Mr. Benezra. Lives are at stake. This is much larger than your deceased clients.”

Benezra sucked on the inside of his cheek, then nodded and dropped the phone back in his pocket. “I’m listening.”

“Actually,” Vail said, “we need to listen and you need to talk—”

“Agent Vail, I told you. I can’t—”

“Let’s do it another way. We’re going to tell you some things and you’re going to nod or shake your head. Don’t say a word.”

Benezra looked away. “This just isn’t right.”

“If I told you your life was in danger, would that change your attitude?”

The attorney’s head whipped back to Vail. They locked eyes. “Are you saying—”

“We need to be asking the questions. First one. You were discussing a lawsuit to remove Crystal Dahlia from the Georges Valley board.”

Benezra sat there a long moment, then nodded.

Vail continued. “You’d also been working with Victoria Cameron on the same issue.”

Benezra’s eyes wandered the room.

Vail rephrased: “You had some discussions with Victoria about this.”

Nod.

“Okay,” she said. “Did Victoria or Isaac say anything that might’ve led you to think they feared for their lives?”

Benezra shook his head.

“Were there any concerns about Superior Mobile Bottling, that maybe they were doing something illegal?”

Another shake.

Vail sighed and looked at Dixon. “Anything you want to ask?”

Benezra leaned forward. “Agent Vail, you’re in the wrong forest. You understand what I’m saying?”

“I do. But I really need you to talk. We need to know what you know. I respect your legal responsibilities. But we’re up against the wall here. We’re trying to save lives. I promise you we won’t disclose where we got this info. We’re not interested in building a case against a suspect. We’re just trying to catch a—a very dangerous person. Before someone else gets hurt. But we just need some answers. Tell us what you know.”

Benezra sat back, then rubbed his face with both hands. A moment later, he said, “Let’s go outside, take a little walk.”

They rose from their chairs and pushed through the nearby glass door, which spilled out onto a long patio with multiple round aluminum tables and matching seats. The vista was clear and the hills rolled on for miles into the distance. A small, blue body of water was visible less than a mile way.

Benezra walked a dozen feet, then stopped and leaned his forearms atop the metal railing. Dixon and Vail did likewise. “I’m not telling you this. Right?”

“Right,” Dixon said.

Benezra nodded slowly, then said, “Isaac and Victoria were very upset because of the AVA issue. You know about it?”

“The 85 percent minimum?” Vail asked.

“Apparently, someone from Congressman Church’s office was involved. He was speaking in favor of the other members of the AVA board, trying to influence the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax Trade Bureau. The TTB. Familiar with it?”

“Yeah, it’s come up before.”

“Well, it was improper, to say the least, for the congressman’s office to take sides. It had nothing to do, really, with his district. No reason for him to come down on either side of the issue unless he was politically motivated to do so.”

Vail felt a pang of disappointment. While there could be the seeds of something underhanded—or merely politics as usual—it wasn’t the smoking gun for which they were hoping.

“Interesting,” Dixon said.

But Vail sensed the same emotion in Dixon’s voice that she was feeling herself.
Interesting, but not relevant.

“No,” Benezra said. “What’s interesting is what my PI found out. I hired an investigator to look into it. It just smelled foul. I mean, yeah, could’ve just been political horse-trading, but Victoria and Isaac were convinced something wasn’t right. And what my guy discovered was worse than what they’d envisioned.” He stopped, ran a hand across his forehead. “If I tell you what we found, everyone will know it came from me. I really can’t—I need to talk with Todd.”

Dixon pushed away from the railing. “Call him. Keep it short. Just tell him I’m investigating something regarding one of the congressman’s advisors and I’m offering to exchange some information that you think’ll be beneficial to your efforts. That’s all true.”

Benezra dug out his phone. He dialed, spoke with Nicholson, and did as Dixon instructed. He slid the phone back in his jacket. “He trusts me to do the right thing. Am I doing the right thing, Ms. Dixon?”

Dixon locked eyes with Benezra. “If you only knew.”

Benezra sighed deeply. “My PI found payoffs to Timothy Nance, Church’s District Director, in a private account. Two payments of twenty-five grand apiece. We think they came from Crystal Dahlia,
which would make sense, but we’re not sure. And it seems the fifty grand was shipped out of the account a couple days later.”

“To where?”

“Don’t know. My PI hasn’t finished digging. It’s . . . sensitive work. We have to be very careful. But it looks like Nance was taking a bribe to influence government legislation regarding the minimum grape requirement for the AVA.”

Vail held up a hand. “Hang on a second. I’m not sure we can reach that conclusion. Those are pretty serious charges. Taking bribes, influence peddling. Corruption, graft.”

Benezra looked away. “Congressman Church is close friends with the director of the Regulations and Ruling Division of the TTB. And they administer AVA designations. Does that change your opinion?”

Vail raised her brow.
Yeah, that’d change mine.

“Kind of strange for a man who’s thinking of running for governor to do something like this,” Dixon said.

“Governor?” Benezra asked. “That’s news to me.”

“How deeply involved is Church in all this?” Vail asked.

Benezra shrugged. “I couldn’t say Church is involved in
any
of this. Nance may’ve simply taken the money with the intent of convincing the congressman to talk with his buddy at the TTB. I wouldn’t be surprised if Church has no idea what Nance is doing.” He turned to face Dixon. “Can I trust you, Ms. Dixon?”

Dixon shoved her hands into her pockets. “I think you already have.”

Benezra nodded. “Fair enough.” He studied Dixon’s face, then said, “One of your law enforcement colleagues also appears to be involved.”

“Who?”

“Scott Fuller.”

“Involved, as in the AVA issue, the bribery?”

“His name came up, more than once. But I’ll leave it to you to look into it further. Fuller wasn’t the big fish, so I told my PI to first concentrate on Nance and Church.” Benezra tipped his chin back. “Now . . . the info you had to exchange?”

“Off the record,” Dixon said. “And not for publication. Fuller, along with a guy named Walton Silva and Nance, were involved in an arson plot. Fuller’s dead. Silva’s in custody. Nance is implicated, but free. I’m not sure that helps you much.”

Benezra considered that a moment. “I think it tells me this might be larger than we’d thought. We need to seriously consider turning this over to the Feds to investigate. Let them sort it out.” Benezra looked down at his watch. “I have to go, my ten thirty.”

Dixon extended a hand. “Thank you. This won’t go beyond us. From our end, anyway, we’ll keep you out of it. If you share this stuff with the Feds—and I do recommend you do that—they’ll obviously want to see everything you’ve got.”

Benezra nodded, bid them good luck, then walked back through the glass door.

VAIL AND DIXON headed to the sheriff’s department in silence, both working through the information Marc Benezra had given them.

“I kind of liked the guy,” Vail finally said. “He didn’t have to tell us shit.”

“Yeah, and what he did tell us . . . it kind of puts things in a different light. I’m now wondering about that arson. Silva and Nance lied to us.”

“If you were taking bribes, would you tell the police? Either that or Silva was kept in the dark and Nance and Fuller kept the money for themselves, figuring the promise about getting a post in a governor’s administration was enough for Silva.”

Dixon cocked her head. “Yeah, but that’s playing with fire. If Silva finds out they were taking money and not sharing it, he could get pissed and start talking.”

“Playing with fire?”

Dixon winced. “No pun intended.”

Vail shook her head. “I don’t think he’d start talking—not only would he blow his chance at a major career boost, anything he’d say would implicate himself. And for what? It wasn’t that much money, especially split three ways.”