Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery) (11 page)

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your panties in a wad, Officer. It’s not like we were deliberately trying to hide anything from you. Geez, what do you want to know, already?”

Jackson rubbed his eyes—and prayed for patience. “Start at the beginning and tell us your version of what happened.”

Obviously unable to contain herself, C.C. jumped right in. “It all started when the scary French chick showed up and called Mrs. Larson out. At least, that’s what it looked like from here. Elise had gone on a break and I couldn’t really hear exactly what was said, but there was a bit of arguing, and they shoved each other around a little.”

“That’s about the time I got back,” Elise added. “Monique was yammering about Divia staying away from Alain, and Divia was telling her that it wasn’t her problem if Monique couldn’t control him.”

“Yeah, and then French chick says something about Toby and ‘financial funny business’. Boy, Mrs. Larson did
not
like that,” C.C.
said. “That was about the time they got into it. It was quite
a rumble.”

“Uh-huh,” Jackson replied. “And how did you two and Miss Abby get into the middle of it?”

Elise gasped. “What? Who told you that?”

“Never mind. Just answer the question. How did you get involved?”

C.C. came to Elise’s aid immediately. “Well, come on, Jax. We had no choice. Miss Abby went charging over there. What did you want us to do? Let her jump in without backup?”

Jackson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me the rest.”

“To be fair, by the time we got over there Toby and Philippe had already broken them apart,” Elise said. “Though Monique wasn’t quite ready to let it go. She yelled something about Divia ending up dead if she didn’t back off.”

Jackson nodded. “Yes, we heard about that. What I want to know is what was said between Divia and Miss Abby.”

He watched the two women exchange looks, before Elise heaved a sigh. “Jax, it was nothing. Divia had just been embarrassed in front of a crowd of people. She lashed out at Gram when she was just trying to offer help.”

C.C. nodded. “Yeah. Miss Abby only asked if she was okay, and Mrs. Larson lit right into her. Said Miss Abby didn’t really care and that she should go back to her own booth and leave them alone. She also made it clear that Mr. Larson was off limits. Like Miss Abby would do something like that. Lame.”

“Jax, why are you asking about Gram like this? She didn’t do anything but offer support to Divia. And Gram was the one Divia called for help later, remember? The person you really should be talking to is Monique Toussaint. There’s something hinky going on with her and Philippe. I’m sure of it.”

Jackson stared at her for a moment before answering. “We still have several people to talk to, Elise,” he said and then pointed a finger at her. “And just as a heads up, you and I are going to have a little chat later tonight about a very familiar subject. So get ready.”

eleven

Elise had no doubt
in her mind what subject Jackson had alluded to earlier. She figured she was going to get the lecture about staying out of his investigations.

Again.

She’d really tried not to interfere this time, but couldn’t just stand by and do nothing when her family was involved. To that end, she was still working out how she was going to give Jackson the information she and the others had put together so far without admitting they’d been doing some digging on their own.

Dicey. Very dicey.

To keep her mind off the coming retribution, she decided to head out to the vineyard to check on her grandmother before going home. Divia’s death had been hard on Abigail, not only because she’d found the body, but also because Garrett Larson had taken his wife’s death poorly. Elise knew her Gram still had a soft spot for her former sweetheart and wanted to help him in any way she could.

Unfortunately, her grandmother wasn’t thinking about her own predicament. Abigail hadn’t told anyone about the texts Divia had sent her—or about the phone call begging her to come to the motel until they’d met her at the scene on Friday night—after Divia’s death.

Since Ross, Caroline, and Madison had met Elise and Jackson at the restaurant, and Laura had gone to dinner with Neil Paige, the vineyard foreman; that left no one to corroborate Abigail’s story or timeline. Elise figured Jackson would look to verify the phone call and the texts her grandmother had said she’d received. But in the meantime, Elise and her sleuthing team would do everything they could to make sure her grandmother was in the clear when Divia’s death was confirmed a homicide.

As Elise was certain it would be very soon.

Jackson had asked the M.E. to put a rush on the autopsy and various reports. She figured he would be hearing something today, or at the very latest, tomorrow. She had a bad feeling about what those reports would hold and stewed over it all the way to the vineyard.

When she arrived at the house, she found her mother in her office going over quarterly reports.

“Hey, Mom. Cookin’ the books?” she asked as she plopped down in a chair. “How’s it looking? Are we going to stay in business?”

“Actually, considering the whole Lodge Merlot balloon payment debacle of a couple months ago, we’re not doing too badly.” Laura looked up and smiled. “Your sister did a spectacular job with the Wilkinson wedding, which turned out to be quite lucrative.”

Elise nodded. “I know that Mayor Wilkinson was very pleased—as was her daughter—and they were generous with their praise.”

“They were generous with their cash as well,” Laura replied with a grin. “With the subsequent events we’ve had since then from the positive word-of-mouth, and a good harvest this season, we’ll be able to make the payment on the lodge loan and put a tidy sum away to help keep us fluid when things get lean again. If all goes well, we’ll be able to actually pay off the loan in its entirety by the first quarter of next year on schedule.”

“That would be awesome.”

“Agreed. We won’t know for a couple of weeks, but I’m hoping the festival numbers will look good as well. That would give us a nice boost.” Laura gave her a sly look. “But you didn’t come in here to listen to the financial report. What’s up?”

Elise blew out a breath. “I wanted to stop by and see how Gram was holding up. She made out like she was unaffected by the whole mess last night, but I know she’s got to be pretty upset by it.”

“Well, of course I am,” Abigail said from the doorway. “I’m not made of stone, Elise Brianna.”

“No, I know that, Gram. That’s not what I meant.”

Abigail waved her back down when she started to get up. “I know it’s not, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” She sank into the chair next to Elise. “I guess Divia’s death has me more disturbed than I realized—that and the fact that Garrett and I have history—however ancient.”

Elise nodded. “How’s Mr. Larson doing? Have you talked to him?”

“Briefly.” Abigail shook her head. “He’s a wreck—as you would expect—and trying not to show it. I was there for his interview, and what worries me the most is that he wasn’t up front with Jackson.”

Elise sat up a little straighter and frowned. “What do you mean, Gram?”

Laura leaned on the desk and gave her mother a frank look. “Do you mean Garrett lied to Jackson, Mom? Because if he did, and you have knowledge of that, you’re obligated to tell Jackson.”

“Please.” Abigail made a face. “I’m obligated to do no such thing.
Besides, I don’t know that Garrett lied per se, but I’ve known that man for a lot of years. And though we haven’t exactly kept in touch, I can still tell when he’s being less than forthcoming with pertinent information.”

She gave a tired sigh, and when she continued it was with sadness. “He just lost his wife and he’s struggling, Laura. I don’t know exactly what he left out of his interview, but I have a bad feeling that Jackson is going to find out what it is, and it will come back to bite Garrett in the butt.”

“Do you think Mr. Larson knows something about his wife’s death, Gram?”

“I don’t see how. And he’s taking it pretty hard.” Abigail shook her head. “But if he does know something, he’s learned some mean acting skills over the years. Anyway, it was when he was talking about where he was last night that my bullshit radar kicked in.”

“Mom. For crying out loud.” Laura sat back in her chair and rolled her eyes. “Garrett went into Austin for a meeting, right? Or at least, that’s what he’d indicated. Are you saying that’s not where he actually went?”

“He did say he’d been at a meeting in Austin at the Driskell Hotel from five to nine, but I was watching his body language, and I don’t think he was. Or at least, not the entire time.” Abigail rubbed her forehead, as if a headache was brewing. “I don’t know. I could be wrong, but I have a terrible feeling that Jackson is going to find discrepancies in his story. Discrepancies that will require some fast talking for Garrett to explain.”

_____

Later that evening, her grandmother’s words about being able to read Garrett Larson played over in Elise’s mind when she opened her front door to find Jackson on the landing. One look at his face told her that he was not pleased and things were probably going to get heated.

“Well, geez, Jax, don’t stand on principle. Come on in,” she said as he stormed past her without a word and headed into the living room. Closing the door, she followed him cautiously and watched him pace for a bit before prodding him to talk to her. “Okay, would you just go ahead and get it out before it chews a hole in your gut,” she said at length.

He stopped suddenly and turned his angry glare in her direction like a white-hot laser. “You’re gonna want to give me a minute here, Elise Brianna,” he said with an edgy tone that had Chunk heading for the bedroom to get out of the line of fire. “Because I’m feeling more than a little pissy at the moment.”

“Uh-huh. I can see that,” she said with a wide-eyed look.

In all the years they’d known each other, she’d seen Jackson in full-on furious mode only a handful of times. This was more than his standard ‘stay-out-of-my-investigation’ annoyance. Obviously, something else had happened, and he’d get to it in his own sweet time. So, she did the prudent thing—she sat down on the sofa to wait.

When he finally got to that point, he stopped trying to wear a hole in the carpet and jabbed a finger at her. “You just don’t learn, do you? You promised me, El. You said you would stay out of this mess. ‘
No, Jackson, my days of snooping around are over, I promise.’
Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Jax—”

“I had the joy of interviewing the Toussaints today,” he snapped, cutting her off. “And imagine my surprise when I found out that not only had you and your pal C.C. pumped them for information, but also that Ross evidently questioned Alain Toussaint quite thoroughly about his whereabouts on Friday night.”

“Oh.”

Crap.
Leave it to Ross to be as subtle as a sledge hammer.

“Yeah. Nice, Elise. So, what? Instead of poking around on your own, you enlisted not only C.C. this time but Ross as well? Did you get Maddy in on the act, too?”

When she didn’t answer right away, she watched an incredulous look light up his face. “Oh-my-
Lord
! You did, didn’t you?”

“Okay, if you’ll calm down for a minute I’ll explain. It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” she said before he could spool up again.

“Not as bad—” He snorted and shook his head. “Really? Because when Monique Toussaint asked me if the Becketts had been put on the sheriff’s payroll to help with the investigation, I gotta tell you, if
seemed
pretty bad to me.”

Elise blinked up at him. “I beg your pardon?”

His bark of laughter was anything but amused. “You know, those
were the exact words that came out of my mouth when she asked me that.”

“Ooh, that really gets to me!” Annoyed, she leapt up from the sofa to do some pacing of her own before stopping and pointing a finger at him in the same way he’d done to her moments ago. “She knows we’re dating, and that manipulative wench is just trying to deflect the spotlight, that’s all. She doesn’t have an alibi, and if she told you anything different, she’s lying through her teeth.” Almost without taking a breath, she rambled on with her rampage. “And let me just say, she’s one to talk. She probably didn’t tell you that
we
didn’t go looking for
them
. She and Alain stopped by the booth first thing this morning—mostly to needle me and pump
me
for information.”

When she finally paused to take a breath, Jackson put up a hand. “Hang on a minute. They came by the River Bend booth this morning?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” she replied with a note of irritation. “And almost the first damn thing out of her mouth was to ask if we’d heard about Divia’s death. Then she made some thinly veiled accusations about Gram and Garrett, which I wasn’t about to let her get away with, so C.C. and I turned the tables on her, gave her a few things to think about.”

“Of course you did,” he said, and pressed his lips together, but not before she saw them twitch with mirth.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she slapped a hand on her hip. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Jackson Landry. That heinous French floozy has more to hide than the rest of us combined. No way does she get to point fingers, and especially not at my grandmother.”

“All right, all right. Take it down a notch, champ.” He chuckled but then sobered right up. “It may get you off that particular hook, El, but it doesn’t explain Ross’s behavior, does it? You want to tell me about that?”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and then squinted up
at him. “Okay, that was probably a bit over the line. But I promise you, all we’ve been doing is keeping our eyes and ears open
…
mostly.”

“Elise.”

“Come on, Jax, what does it hurt? It’s not like we’re nosing around or interrogating suspects. Well, with the exception of Ross’s indelicate handling of his chat with Alain Toussaint. He was just supposed to see if he could find out where the man was Friday night, because he wasn’t with Monique.”

“Oh, for the love of mud. Seriously?” Jackson shook his head.

At the look on his face, Elise caved. “Okay, maybe C.C. was going to talk to Grace Vanderhouse about where she was last night, and Maddy was supposed to find out Toby’s location before he got to the restaurant, but that’s it. I swear.”

While he just continued to stare at her like she was some kind of new organism under a microscope, she threw her hands in the air and went on the defensive. “Look, we talked about it and decided that we just wanted to make sure Gram was in the clear if this became a murder investigation.”

“When,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“
When
it became a murder investigation—and it has. It’s official. I got the call just before five. The M.E. has classified Divia Larson’s death as a homicide.”

Elise suddenly felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t like she hadn’t expected it, but hearing Jackson say it out loud was shocking, nonetheless. She took two steps backward and sank down onto the sofa. “Oh God.”

“Indeed,” he said with a grave nod. “Shit’s about to hit the fan, pal. And after what happened over the summer with your uncle’s murder, do you understand now why I don’t want you anywhere near this thing? Someone went to great lengths to kill this woman and then clean up after themselves.”

“Did she die from cyanide poisoning?”

“
Yes. The M.E. said that the head wound, while it happened prior
to death and was a pretty good gash, wasn’t the cause of death. It was the cyanide that killed her.” He came over and sat next to her. “Elise, this was no accident, no crime of passion. This was well thought out and executed.”

She turned to him with a frown. “Ross thought she may have committed suicide—which knowing Divia, I can’t imagine—but how do you know that’s not what happened?”

He shook his head. “There were other indicators. She had several broken fingernails. And I mean, broken into the quick, like she’d grabbed hold of something or someone violently. We found a couple of the tips in the carpet but not all of them. And she had scratches around her throat, as if she’d been unable to breath and had clawed at herself.”

“Maybe she took the poison and later had second thoughts, then
fell and hit her head in her struggle to get to her cell phone to call for help.”

“Her cell was in her purse, which we found holding the door open
, remember? No, she fought with someone. She had bruising around her wrists. Plus, there were other suspicious things around the room.”