Chapter 11 - The Auction Block
The heavy oak doors of the St. Helena estate swung open one last time, not for an exclusive wine tasting, but for the court-ordered bankruptcy auction.
I stood on the mezzanine overlooking the grand ballroom. Down below, high-profile collectors, rival vintners, and estate liquidators sat in velvet folding chairs, holding numbered paddles. On the raised auction stage stood the centerpiece: the Vance family’s centuries-old silver collection, vintage reserves, and Eleanor’s prized French antique furniture.
"Lot forty-two: A pair of 18th-century gilded Louis XV armchairs and matching marble console table," the auctioneer's voice boomed over the speakers.
At the back of the room, standing near the doorway in an ill-fitting trench coat and dark sunglasses, Eleanor Vance watched through trembling tears. She had slipped past security just to watch her life’s status symbols get sold off for pennies on the dollar.
"Starting bid at fifteen thousand dollars," the auctioneer called.
I raised my paddle from the mezzanine railing. "Fifty thousand."
Eleanor’s head whipped up toward me, horror written all over her face.
"Fifty thousand to bidder number seven," the auctioneer shouted. "Going once, going twice... Sold to bidder number seven!"
I looked directly down into Eleanor's eyes, raising two fingers in a silent toast. Beside me, Marcus leaned in and handed me a signed transfer deed.
"The vineyard itself just cleared probate," Marcus whispered. "The bank approved our entity's bid. As of ten minutes ago, Claire, you own every vine, barrel, and square foot of this property."
Before I could reply, my phone buzzed with an urgent notification from Pelican Bay State Prison. A collect call had been requested from inmate number 89402: Adrian Vance.
I tapped Accept and put the phone to my ear.
"You took my grandfather's land, didn't you, Claire?" Adrian’s voice cracked through the static, hollow and venomous.
"It wasn't yours to keep, Adrian," I replied calmly.
May you like
"You think you've won?" He let out a rasping, broken laugh. "Check the eastern reservoir before you start planting your new crop. My father didn't keep all his secrets in the carriage house."
The line went dead.
