Chapter 6
The Tuesday meeting came without warning.
Amos was at the barrel bung, checking the fermentation on the Barbera, when the white sedan pulled into the yard — not the county truck this time, but a different kind of authority. A silver-haired woman in a navy blazer got out, carrying a leather briefcase, and walked up to the crush pad with the sure step of someone who had been there before.
"Mr. Pryor," she said. "I'm Margaret Chen. I'm the attorney for — "
"Loretta," Amos finished.
Margaret Chen's eyebrows went up, just slightly. "Ms. Pryor-Keene has retained me to review the documentation of the estate," she said. "She believes there may have been an error in the transfer of title."
"She's welcome to believe that," Amos said.
"She's asked me to request that you not proceed with the crush until the matter is resolved."
Amos looked at her for a long time. The cellar was cool, but the September heat was already building outside, and the smell of the wine hung in the air.
"Ms. Chen," he said, "the crush has already started. The grapes are picked. The tanks are full. If I stop now, I lose the vintage. I lose the year. I lose — "
"I understand the timing," she said. "I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to ask that you hold off on any sale or transfer of assets pending the review."
"There's nothing to hold off on," Amos said. "The crush isn't an asset sale. It's the vineyard's work. It's what Larkspur does every September."
Margaret Chen tilted her head. "You have a copy of the probate order, Mr. Pryor."
"I do."
"And you have the deed from the county recorder."
"I do."
"Then you understand why I'm asking."
Amos did understand. He understood that Loretta had hired an attorney. He understood that she intended to fight, that she would not accept the paper, that she would not let the vineyard go without noise.
But what he understood most clearly was this — that Margaret Chen had not asked him a single question about the crush, about the grapes, about the work. She had asked about documents, about title, about transfer.
She had never once asked about the vines.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," Amos said. "I'll show you the title. I'll show you the probate order. You can review every document I have, and the county's records, and the court's records, and you can verify that the transfer was legal and complete."
She nodded. "I'd appreciate that."
"And then you'll tell your client," he said, "that the crush will continue. And if she wants to come down here and say anything to me about it, she can come in person."
The words hung in the air between them. Margaret Chen looked at him — looked at the cellar, at the barrels, at the stainless tanks where the wine was working — and then she nodded slowly.
"I'll be in touch," she said.
She left, and the crush went on.
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