Grapes of Death (6 page)

Jeff circled around, pulling a chair up next to Tina, giving his fiancée a peck on the cheek. Jackson stood between Brenda and Miranda, and his eyes found Elise's from the other side of the table.

His smile grew.

Despite her best effort to remain unaffected, her pulse went wild in response even as she returned his warm look with a bland stare.

This is ridiculous
, she told herself.
It's just Jackson.

To her irritation, white teeth flashed in a grin that was just a teensy bit wicked and told her he was reading her thoughts perfectly and enjoying every bit of it.

The band started the next lively song in their set, and without taking his eyes from hers Jackson annoyed her a tad more by holding a hand out to her best friend. “Hey, C.C., you wanna dance?”

C.C. jumped up and gave a hoot. “You know it, gorgeous! I
love
this song.”

Elise watched them make their way through the crowd to the dance floor. Though she was loath to admit it, she recognized jealousy as it reared its ugly head in the middle of her chest.

Which, of course, is just stupid
, she thought with a frown. She and Jackson may have a strong chemistry, but she had a damn boyfriend. For crying out loud, she had no business mentally drooling over her brother's best friend. A friend she'd known for most of her life. Besides, if they hadn't been able to hook up by now, it probably wasn't meant to be in the first place. Who wants to mess with a close family friendship like that? Not her.

She tried to rid herself of the feeling by silently repeating Stuart's name, and it irritated the hell out of her that she couldn't quite picture his face. Every time she tried, all she could see was Jackson's handsome face smiling at her from across the table.

“I'm hitting the ladies' room,” she announced to no one in particular. Maybe all she needed was some air.

As it turned out she'd been right and the break did wonders. By the time she'd freshened up her makeup and fluffed her hair, she was feeling much more in control.

“Hey, Elise,” a soft voice said from behind.

She looked up as Harmony Gates came out of the third stall. “Hey, Harmony, how you doin'?”

“I'm good.” The other woman giggled and swayed a bit as she stepped to the sink to wash her hands. “Man, it's really packed tonight, huh? Like a great big party. I'm having the best time.”

“Yeah, they're making a killing, all right. Are you here with Bud?”

“Hell no! Bud and I broke up awhile back. No, I'm just here with some friends, same as you.” Harmony snickered and wiggled her eyebrows. “We got us a designated driver, so the rest of us are cuttin' loose.”

Maybe it was the poppers, or maybe it was her imagination, but as Elise touched up her lipstick, she got the distinct impression that Harmony was studying her in the mirror.

And it felt a little creepy.

“I saw Jackson come in,” the woman said, never taking her eyes off Elise as she dried her hands. “You know, he and Maelene called it quits. You think you two might finally get together?”

Good Lord, is that what this is about?

Maybe Harmony wanted to make a move on Jackson and she was trying to clear the way. Or maybe it was the alcohol talking. She was unsteady on her feet and obviously a little tipsy. Either way, her question was too close to Elise's earlier musings, and she thought it was prudent to set the record straight immediately. The last thing the family needed now, with a murder investigation getting underway, was the rumor mill powering up at her and Jackson's expense.

“Look, Harmony, if you want a shot at Jax, you go right ahead. I have a boyfriend in Dallas.”

Harmony laughed out loud. It was a harsh, unpleasant sound that grated on Elise's nerves. “No. I'm engaged to someone else now—someone smarter and better lookin' than Bud will ever hope to be. You and Jackson have always seemed perfect for each other, that's all. You should go for it now that he's a free agent. You know, Elise, Dallas is a long way off.” The woman gave her a quick wink, took a last look in the mirror, and then slipped out of the ladies' room, leaving Elise a bit baffled by the conversation.

But by the time Elise returned to the table, she had not only gotten her wayward libido under control but had put the odd exchange out of her mind. Jackson and C.C. were back from the dance floor, and he'd taken up residence in her chair.

She dropped her purse on the table and tapped him on the shoulder. “You're in my seat, pal.”

He looked up at her and grinned but stood to give her the chair. As he did, his arm brushed her purse—which was sitting too close to the edge of the table—and knocked it off onto the floor.

To make matters worse, she'd failed to zip it closed when she'd left the ladies' room and it landed upside down. Jackson reached down to pick it up as she dove to keep her lipstick and a few other things from rolling under the table. Her good fortune at snatching up the loose items quickly took a downward spiral as she stood up and then froze.

Jackson had her purse under one arm and was staring down at both Edmond's paystubs and gambling markers in his hand. He raised his eyes to hers, his charming smile now gone.

“Where did you get these, Elise? And what are they doing in your purse?”

Six

Elise's mind went utterly
blank as she stared first at the offending papers in Jackson's hand and then up at the stern look on his face. How on earth was she going to explain this? There was no good reason why her uncle's paystubs and gambling markers should be in her purse—at least not one that didn't involve breaking and entering.

And they both knew it.

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “I'm waiting, El.”

“Okay, I know how this looks,” she began, “but there is a reasonable explanation.”

That is, there will be as soon as I think of one
, she mentally amended and went into a slight panic mode.

Before she could elaborate—or come up with that reasonable explanation—the band kicked in again, and she prayed she might put off having to provide any details until she had time to manufacture something plausible.

She should have known better. Jackson simply grabbed her by the upper arm in a vise-like grip and hauled her up against his rock-hard frame.

“Say your goodbyes, sweet pea,” he murmured next to her ear, sending shivers rippling across her nerve endings. Though his tone was deceptively pleasant, she wasn't fooled. Jackson was annoyed. “We're going to your place to have us a little chat. Right now.”

Elise couldn't help wishing her friends would put up a fuss and save her from the chewing out she was sure to get from Jackson when he found out what she'd done.

Unfortunately, Jeff and Tina barely looked up, Brenda gave her a happy wave as she headed toward the dance floor with Earl Wiggins, and C.C. just smiled knowingly.

Miranda didn't say much, either, but did give her the stink-eye. Elise figured she was being blamed for stealing the recently unattached Jackson out from under the woman's nose before she'd had a chance to corner him. If only Miranda knew that the glint in Jackson's eye was anything but affectionate right now.

What she was sure of was that their departure made quite the sight. Jackson—with her purse still under one arm—dragged her out of the club while she attempted to keep up with his long-legged strides.

When they got partway up the street, she tried to reason with him, but he slid a steely-eyed glance her way and muttered a terse, “Zip it.”

Which she did. They walked the rest of the way to her apartment in uncomfortable silence. By the time they'd climbed the stairs and unlocked her front door, she had just about talked herself into a full-blown anxiety attack. So she went on the offensive.

“I don't know why you're being so pissy about this,” she began, trying to deflect attention from her actions by attacking his demeanor. “What's the big deal, anyway?”

Jackson closed the door and leaned against it, her purse still under his arm, which under any other circumstance would have been amusing.

“
What's the big deal
?” He tilted his head as if considering. “Well, depending on where and when you got this stuff, it could be a very big deal.”

Elise crossed her arms and watched Chunk jump down from his living room perch in the Papasan chair to stroll over and give Jackson a curious sniff. “I don't see how that would make a difference. What does when, or even where, I found them have to do with anything?”

“Well, for one thing, it makes a difference if you broke the law to get them.” Jackson bent over and scooped up her tubby feline with his free hand. “I'd hate to have to haul your butt in for obstruction of justice.”

“Obstruction of justice? What the—”

“You never think of the consequences do you? Those papers could be important evidence in a homicide investigation,” he said as he crossed into the living room.

Stalking into the room behind him, she snatched her purse up off the coffee table where he'd deposited it and held it to her chest like a lost friend. “A
homicide
? Who said anything about a homicide?”

“The ME's office said, that's who.”

“The ME ruled Uncle Edmond's death a homicide? When did
that
happen? Are they sure? And why am I just hearing about it now? Have you told Mom or anyone yet?”

As she fired off question after question, Jackson plopped down on the sofa and shook his head.

“What?” she demanded when she'd run out of steam and he'd made no effort to jump in with information.

“Are you through? Good God, woman, you jabber more than an agitated magpie. If you'd shut up for two seconds, I just might answer your questions.” As he scratched Chunk's ears the cat began to purr with gusto and rub against his chest.

Traitorous little twerp,
she thought with a frown.

“Well?” she asked out loud. “I'm listening.”

He stared at her for a bit longer, and just when she was about to pop a vein, he finally spoke. “I got the call from Austin with a preliminary ruling at about quarter to five this afternoon. Seeing as it was so late in the day on a Friday, I thought tomorrow morning would be soon enough to come out to the vineyard to break the bad news to the family.”

Elise sank down into a chair. “Oh.”

“And I gotta say you don't look too surprised with the ruling.”

“
I'll admit, while I was hoping Uncle Edmond's death was an unfortunate accident, it seemed less likely after actually seeing where and how he was found. Too many questions, you know?”

Jackson nodded. “We also now have an approximate time of death—on Monday, early evening, between six and seven.” He pulled the stubs and markers out of his shirt pocket and waved them at her. “So I'll ask you again. When and where did you get these?”

She had another bad moment as she worked to come up with something believable and failed miserably. It didn't help that Jackson sat there smiling at her as if he could read her mind.

“If you can't come up with a decent story, El, you should probably think about just telling me the truth,” he said when she'd just about given up. “You know I'll find out eventually, anyway.”

“Jackson Landry, I take offense at that insinuation.” She sniffed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “What makes you think I wouldn't tell you the truth?”

“Elise Brianna, how long have we known each other?”

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and thought about holding out awhile longer just on pure principle. But in the end she relented and told him about going out to her uncle's house on the day he was killed.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What in God's name were you thinking?” he demanded to know when she'd finished her explanation. “If someone saw you poking around his place on the day he was murdered—and trust me, there's
always
someone watching—that will not look good.”

“Oh please! Nobody saw me. And besides, how was I supposed to know someone was going to kill the man on that particular day?”

It was Jackson's turn to roll his eyes. “That is
not
the point, Elise. Once word gets out that Edmond was murdered, there are people in this county who will be following the case with a magnifying glass. I'm going to have to be extremely careful on how I handle this investigation.”

“I don't see what that has to do with—” She stopped abruptly and shot him a hard look when his earlier words sank in. “Wait. What did you mean, ‘that will not look good'?”

“Are you kidding me? You think snoopin' around and taking stuff from Edmond's house on the day he's murdered will go unnoticed? Geez, El, wake up. Your family will be the first to be scrutinized, and I mean each and every one of you.”

“My family?” She blinked several times and her mouth dropped open. “Why would my family be scrutinized over a robbery gone bad?”

“First of all, you can't assume this was a robbery simply because his wallet was missing. The killer could have just been trying to make it look that way. And second, I'm gonna have to look at this crime from all angles.”

“You can't be serious.”

“I'm serious as a heart attack, darlin'. Stop and think about it for a minute,” he insisted. “Your mom has had several very public arguments with Edmond over recent months. Ross and your vineyard foreman, Neil, have both had confrontations with him
and
made threatening comments. In front of witnesses, I might add.”

“Mom? Ross? Don't tell me you suspect either of them of killing Uncle Edmond.”

“And then there's your little pilfering excursion to his house when he wasn't even home,” he continued as if she hadn't spoken. “This kind of behavior will only serve to make my job that much harder.”

“My excur—” she sputtered. “Jackson, are you insane? Have you fallen down recently and smacked your pointy little head? That's just ridiculous and you know it! How can you even think that, let alone say it out loud?”

“You really don't get it, do you?” He shoved Chunk aside and scrubbed his hands over his face before explaining. “I was first on the scene. It's my
job
to ask the tough questions—before someone else does. If there's even a whiff of impropriety with this investigation, the sheriff could replace me with someone else.”

“You don't really think that could happen, do you?”

“I don't think it, I
know
it. There are folks who will say
I should step down simply because of my relationship with your family. And mark my words, Darrell Yancy will be one of them. He would do a friggin' happy dance up Main Street to get his hands on this case. And just think about how much fun
that
would be for everyone involved, especially Ross.”

“Oh God, it would be horrible, Jax. He doesn't know my family like you do, and he's never gotten over Caroline choosing Ross over him. Plus, he's a small-minded idiot.”

Jackson smiled at that. “You won't get an argument from me on that front.” Then he sobered. “But that's why it's so important that you tell me this stuff before someone else does. Or better still, don't do something stupid like this in the first place.” He finished by waving the paystubs and gambling markers in front of her again.

She narrowed her eyes at him but bit back the snarky remark on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she nodded at the documents and countered with a thought of her own. “You know, those bring up a good point.”

“Yeah? What's that?”

“Well, that there are others besides my family who may have had motive for wanting Uncle Edmond dead.”

“Like Henry Kohler? What would be his motive?”

“For crying in a bucket, Jackson, I don't know. That's your job, isn't it?” Elise got up and threw her hands in the air. “But I find it odd that my uncle was secretly working for a rival vineyard, don't you? I mean, why would he? He'd been offered a position at River Bend on several occasions.”

“True, but giving Edmond a job doesn't make Henry Kohler a murderer.”

“No, but there's the security factor to think about.”

“What do you mean? Don't all wineries operate pretty much the same? What would you need to keep secure?”

“Well, there's my hybridization process, for starters. And here's one more thing: I happen to know that Uncle Edmond had heavy gambling debts. You have proof of that right there in your hand. Maybe someone killed him when he couldn't pay up.”

“Wow. You've been watching a lot of TV lately, haven't you?”

Elise let his comment go but glared at him and jabbed a finger in his direction. “Another person you should talk to is Pam Dawson. She loaned him a bunch of money, and I think she may have even taken out a loan against the restaurant to do it. Plus the woman is crazy as a loon. I think she'd bash in his head in a minute if she thought he was trying to weasel out of repaying her.”

“Uh-huh. And how is it you know she loaned Edmond all this money?”

“She told me,” she blurted out before she thought.

“I see.” Jackson paused and ran his tongue over his teeth. “And when did this incredible, information-packed conversation take place?”

Realizing the quagmire she'd babbled herself into, Elise tried unsuccessfully to backpedal. “Oh, you know, awhile ago,” she replied vaguely, waving a hand in the air.

He gave her a speculative stare. “Pam was in a
talkative mood,
was she? Awhile ago? When you happened to run into her?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Ha! Have you
met
Pam Dawson?”

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled.

“Lord love a goose, you are the most pathetic liar I think I have ever seen in my entire life. We both know Pam's so tight she squeaks and wouldn't just volunteer anything, let alone information like that. Why don't you tell me what really happened?”

Elise flopped back down in the chair and pouted. “Okay. But you have to promise not to yell at me, and I mean it, Jackson.”

“I'm not promisin' anything. Spill it.”

Elise heaved a sigh and began to fill him in on her visit to the Pit Barbeque.

“Let me get this straight. You did this on the very same day you went poking around at Edmond's?” As Jackson's voice rose, Chunk scampered back to his Papasan chair and began to bathe himself.

“I said no
yelling
!” she hollered back at him.

“And I didn't
promise
!” Jackson answered in kind, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. She could almost hear him counting to ten in his head.