“I will.” His gaze was fastened on her face. “You look tired. It’s the first time I’ve seen you without your usual vim and vigor.”
“I’m not tired. I’m feeling a little at a loss. Everything is winding down, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that I can do.”
“No interesting coyote discussions to instigate?” Nalchek had just gotten off the elevator and was coming toward them. “What a pity.”
“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” she asked. “I called and told you that Eve was going to be okay.”
“I could ask you the same thing.” He smiled crookedly. “But I know the answer. You’re one of those people who have to be there twenty-four/seven for those they care about.”
“You still haven’t answered me.”
“I believe that Nalchek is here to see me,” Joe said. “And the middle of the night is an excellent time for our discussion.” He turned and headed for the waiting room. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Margaret gazed in bewilderment at Nalchek.
He shrugged. “Come along. By all means, let me satisfy your curiosity. I don’t give a damn any longer, now that Walsh is dead.”
“I don’t want to— Yes, I do.” She followed them down the hall to the waiting room. “I have to know.”
“Those were my feelings exactly.” Nalchek turned to face Joe as he entered the waiting room. “I had to know.”
Joe nodded. “Because you’re like Margaret. You had to be there twenty-four/seven for those you care about.” He paused. “Even if there was a chance that it might destroy you.”
“What are you talking about?” Margaret asked.
“Bryland Medical Center,” Joe said. “When Margaret raised a red flag where you were concerned, I started investigating you, Nalchek, and that included everything about you.”
“I would have done the same thing.”
Joe nodded. “I couldn’t find anything in your past or public career. You were everything your voters thought you were. So I dug a little deeper. Family. You had a very close and affectionate family relationship.”
“Yes, I do.”
“And that includes your grandfather, Marcus Nalchek, who owned the vineyard and several valuable farms to the south. You grew up on his lands, and he was like a second father to you. Your own father was the sheriff and very busy. You bonded with Marcus, and he considered you his son and heir.”
“My father didn’t cheat me of affection. He was great,” Nalchek said. “Stop trying to make me into a martyr. We were all family.”
“But you were close enough to Marcus to go to work for him when you got out of the service.”
“I wanted a break. I loved those vineyards.”
“But you found out that things weren’t the same as when you went to Afghanistan.”
Nalchek didn’t answer.
“I checked with your grandfather’s financial consultants and creditors and found out that around the time of Jenny’s death, he was having a good deal of money trouble because of the drought that was devastating the state. He was close to going bankrupt.”
“So were half the other farmers in the state.”
“But Marcus Nalchek felt it as a personal failure. The vineyards had been in the family for generations. He was the head of your family, and he couldn’t stand the thought of you all knowing that he’d failed you.”
“He didn’t fail us. It was the drought. Even if we’d lost everything, we’d still have been able to make a living. We still had each other.”
“But he didn’t look at it like that, did he? However, he didn’t have to face your father or you with how bad the situation actually was.” He paused. “Because suddenly everything was all right, he’d managed to save all those properties in jeopardy. Even his financial advisors didn’t know how he did it. But you found out, didn’t you, Nalchek?”
Silence.
“I’m on the track,” Joe said quietly. “I won’t stop. I’ve talked to the personnel at Bryland, and they gave me a few hints about your grandfather’s meanderings after his stroke. And the financial stuff will just take time.”