Grapes of Death Read online




  Copyright Information

  Grapes of Death: A Tangled Vines Mystery © 2013 by Joni Folger.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Midnight Ink, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  As the purchaser of this ebook, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.

  Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author’s copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First e-book edition © 2013

  E-book ISBN: 9780738739274

  Book format by Bob Gaul

  Cover design by Kevin Brown

  Cover illustration by Ken Joudrey

  Editing by Nicole Nugent

  Midnight Ink is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

  Midnight Ink does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.

  Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific reference will continue or be maintained. Please refer to the publisher’s website for links to current author websites.

  Midnight Ink

  Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

  2143 Wooddale Drive

  Woodbury, MN 55125

  www.midnightink.com

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Dedication

  This first book is dedicated to all my Texas pals,

  especially those in Bastrop County.

  Yes, I took some liberties and made up some stuff,

  but I promise the names were changed to protect the innocent,

  so I know you’ll forgive me. I miss you…

  One

  The sun was riding low in the sky, painting a dazzling array of orange, pink, and lavender on the horizon as the little red sports car zipped along Highway 290. At Elgin, thirty minutes east of Austin, Elise Beckett quickly signaled, turning onto the Farm-to-Market road that would take her home to River Bend, her family’s vineyard.

  The late July weather had been truly heinous over the last couple of weeks, with temperatures hovering in the triple digits for fifteen days straight. When you added humidity into the mix, it could really put a dent in your day. So Elise had done the only thing a homegrown Texas girl could do—put down the rag top, drop the pedal, and let the wind blow.

  Normally she drove to Austin Bergstrom Airport and flew to Big D, but late Friday afternoon she’d instead made the five-hour drive from River Bend. She’d had a case of wine from the vineyard to schlep with her and would never have gotten it through airport security without a fight.

  It seemed no matter how hard Elise tried, she was always running late for something, and today was no exception. She’d planned to leave Dallas and head for home much earlier, in hopes of beating the Sunday traffic. Unfortunately, thanks to Stuart, that was not to be. By the time she’d finally hit the road for the drive south, she was resigned to the fact that she’d probably be late for Sunday family dinner. Again.

  Elise and Stuart Jenkins had met through his work with the TOGRF, the Texas Organic Garden and Research Foundation. She’d been doing the preliminary work on the hybrid vines she was developing for her family’s vineyard, and they’d hit it off immediately. Stuart was attractive, stable, and brilliant—everything she thought she wanted in a partner.

  They’d been dating for just over six months, and for the most part it had been fine. But lately Elise was starting to feel like something was missing—though, for the life of her, she couldn’t put a finger on what was lacking.

  All she knew for certain was this long-distance relationship was starting to wear thin, mostly because Stuart expected her to be the one to get on a plane to Dallas every free weekend. He, on the other hand, had come down to Bastrop County on only a handful of occasions during the entire time they’d been dating.

  As if reading her thoughts, Stuart picked that moment to call her cell phone. She tapped her earpiece and answered with, “Miss me already?”

  “Of course I miss you,” he replied, chuckling over the line. “But I forgot to tell you that Charles and Teresa invited us to a dinner party they’re hosting next Friday evening. Do you think you could come up a little earlier next week?”

  “Stuart, I haven’t even gotten back home yet.”

  Charles and Teresa Davenport were close friends, but more importantly, Charles was Stuart’s immediate boss. Naturally Stuart would want to attend, but it annoyed Elise all the same.

  “Now, see? Think about how much more convenient this would be if you lived in Dallas and didn’t have to drive back to the boondocks of Delphine every Sunday afternoon.”

  “Stuart!”

  “I’m just saying … ”

  “Well, don’t.” Elise took a deep breath and, after counting to ten, let it out slowly. “It’s just shy of four o’clock and I’ll be lucky if I make the family dinner on time. Pointing out what a pain the drive can be is not helping at the moment.”

  This was something else that was beginning to grate on her nerves: Stuart had started to nag her about moving to Dallas. Not that she was opposed to the idea of living in the city, but she loved working for the family vineyard. And Elise was nothing if not loyal. She was also finding that she was a hometown girl at heart.

  “Okay, we’ll let that go for now. Have you come to any decisions about the job?”

  Incredibly, Stuart had sprung a job offer practically as she was heading out the door a few hours previously, which was one of the reasons she’d been late heading for home.

  And not just any job either.

  The TOGRF was expanding outside of Dallas. A benefactor had donated a large chunk of land for an organic research facility. The organization intended to break ground within the next few months and was looking for the brightest horticulturists and botanists in their respective fields. Stuart had been chosen to head up the project—which was an amazing honor in itself—and he was now in the process of assembling the team.

  “Stuart, you said you would give me time to think about it. I don’t consider a few hours adequate time for a decision of this magnitude, do you?”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry, but with your Master’s degree in horticulture and the hybrid work you’ve done for the vineyard, it makes you a perfect candidate to fill one of the positions! Then there’s the added bonus of us being together here in Dallas. And you have to admit, the wage and benefit package that comes with the job is amazing.”

  “Yes, and the work that will be done there is very exciting. The project will be on the cutting edge of organics. You don’t have to remind me that this is the chance of a lifetime, Stuart, but I still need time to think about it. It would be a big change for me.”

  “And you’re worried about your family.”

  “Of course I’m worried about them.”

  Duh! What if she decided to take this job? How would she break the news to them? When her father had his fatal heart attack two years back, he�
�d left the twelve-hundred-acre vineyard in its entirety to her mother. Laura Beckett depended on her three children to help run the business.

  Her older brother, Ross, was business manager for the vineyard and lived in the guest house with his wife, Caroline, and their two boys, Caleb and Ethan.

  Her sister, Madison, who was two years younger than Elise, lived in the family residence and was in charge of all bookings at Lodge Merlot, the property’s special events facility. She also assisted at The Wine Barrel, the vineyard’s retail outlet.

  Elise was the middle child. She’d inherited her father’s passion for the land and with her education in horticulture, she was at home in charge of the vineyard’s growth and development. At twenty-eight, she chose to live in the nearby town of Delphine these days, but River Bend would always remain home.

  Would her family understand if she decided to take the incredible opportunity Stuart was offering?

  “Look, I can’t talk about this right now. I’m almost home. I’ll call you in a day or two.”

  She knew she was being short with Stuart, but it was all so overwhelming she worried her brain may explode. This discussion was something that would have to be put on the back burner for the moment, because she’d be damned if she was going to be late for yet another family function.

  Her maternal grandmother was always riding her about her lack of punctuality and would have her hide. Abigail DeVries, Miss Abby to everyone in the county, might be seventy-two years old, but she was not to be messed with—especially when she was cooking.

  Elise’s smile spread as she glanced over at the acres of grape vines she was now passing, knowing the rows of various varieties ran right down to the banks of the Colorado River.

  Though her family had farmed the land for over a century, the vineyard was relatively new. It had been her father’s idea nearly three decades ago and was a thriving business today. She felt blessed to be a part of that heritage. That she got to work for River Bend as well had been the icing on the proverbial cake. Would she really be able to turn her back on this place, even with the tempting offer Stuart had thrown at her?

  Rounding the next curve, Elise flipped on her blinker as the stone gates that marked the vineyard’s entrance came into view. She’d been so engrossed in her own thoughts that the sudden single whoop of a police siren from behind startled her.

  Looking in her rearview mirror, she was annoyed to see the sheriff’s car turn through the gates after her. If he wanted to ticket her, he was going to have to do it up at the house, because she wasn’t about to be any later than she was already. She’d rather face the entire Bastrop County police force than her grandmother’s ire.

  As if reading her mind, the car followed her past The Wine Barrel, past Lodge Merlot, and right up to the sprawling stone ranch house of the family residence.

  Pulling the cruiser in next to Elise’s sports car, Deputy Jackson Landry climbed out of his vehicle and scowled at her over the hood. Like most of the folks in Delphine, she’d known Jackson all her life. At four years her senior, he was her brother’s best friend.

  Growing up, the boys had been inseparable and mostly a nuisance to her and Madison. She had to admit, though, she’d harbored a crush on Jackson for a time, and he could still scramble her pulse with a look. It was a shame that their timing had been so poor. It seemed that whenever he was dating someone, she was free. Then, the minute he was free, she was dating again. At the moment, they were both in relationships.

  Elise sat in her car and watched Jackson stalk toward her. She admired the way the light breeze ruffled his sun-streaked, chestnut hair and how handsomely he filled out his uniform. Fate could be a cruel bitch, she thought with a sigh, letting her thoughts run.

  He used to bug the livin’ daylights out of me … oh my how things change. I’d like to have a taste of all that yumminess, maybe show him a few new uses for those handcuffs. Too bad he’s dating Maelene McKinney. That woman has no imagination. And, of course, there’s Stuart …

  “Ms. Beckett, do you have any idea how fast you were going?” he asked.

  Leaning down on the car door, he was close enough for her to see her own reflection in his mirrored sunglasses.

  “Nope. But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

  He opened her car door and gave her a stern look. “Too damn fast—as usual.”

  Climbing out of the car, Elise held out her wrists and batted her eyelashes. “You gonna arrest me, sir?”

  “Don’t tempt me. Seriously, El, you drive like you’re running at Daytona. You’re gonna kill yourself and maybe someone else one of these days.”

  She made a face. “You know Gram will ban you from the dinner table if you give me a ticket.”

  After a brief stare off, he broke first. His warm, rich laughter poured over her, and she smiled in return.

  “I doubt that very much. Miss Abby loves me cause I’m so pretty.”

  She gave him a smirk. Though he was probably right, she couldn’t help taking him down a peg. “Yeah, you keep tellin’ yourself that, pal.”

  She leaned back into the car for her briefcase and purse. When she straightened, she could have sworn he’d been checking her out. Of course, with those damn mirrored sunglasses, she couldn’t be sure.

  “Were you just lookin’ at my ass?”

  He took her arm as they started up the sidewalk toward the porch, and a wicked grin eased across his handsome face. “Well, if you’re gonna put it out there, darlin’, yeah, I’m gonna look,” he drawled. “Geez, El, get a grip. I’m a guy.”

  “In other words, you’re a pig,” she answered with a grin. “No pun intended, Officer. Just don’t let Maelene hear you say that.”

  “Wouldn’t make any difference,” he said under his breath.

  As they climbed the stone steps and crossed the porch to the massive oak entry, she shot him a look and wondered what he’d meant. Then Jackson opened the door—and they were greeted by shouting.

  “Oh, goodie,” Elise muttered, unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice. “Uncle Edmond is here.”

  From the sound of the argument, he was in the study with her mother. The door was closed, but they were obviously covering old ground, though his was the only voice loud enough to be heard clearly in the foyer. This was not the first time her dad’s only brother had caused a ruckus at the farm. He’d always been a bother, but in the two years since her dad’s passing, her uncle’s tirades had become more frequent.

  “Jacob had no damn business leaving you land that’s been in my family for generations! You’re not even a Beckett.”

  “Well, at least he’s consistent.” Elise glanced up at Jackson—who’d taken off the hated mirrored sunglasses—and she was surprised by the intensity in his bright green eyes and the hard look on his face. “Jax?”

  “He shouldn’t talk to Miss Laura like that.”

  “Why, Deputy Landry. What a master of the obvious you are,” she said, trying to elicit a smile. When that didn’t work, she sighed. “Look, it’s not like this is the first time, Jackson. And Mom can take care of herself. Come on,” she said, taking his arm this time. “Let’s go see what Gram’s got going on in the kitchen. Uncle Edmond will wind down and leave soon enough. Then we can sit down to dinner in peace.”

  She had to fairly drag him down the hall, but he went. Once they neared the kitchen, the tantalizing aroma coming from the huge pot her grandmother was stirring took over, and Elise thought they were out of the woods.

  “Mmm, something smells yummy in here. What are we having for dinner, Gram?”

  “Beef stew, cornbread, and salad, with pecan pie and ice cream for dessert,” Abigail said, then turned and saw Jackson. She immediately broke into a beaming smile. “Jackson! Oh, honey child, I’m so glad you could make it.”

  Jackson flashed Elise an I-told-you-so look as she watched her grandmother grab him an
d pull him in for a hug.

  “Miss Abby, your tasty meals are the highlight of my week. Sorry I’ve missed the last two Sundays. You know crime waits for no man.”

  “Oh brother! What a suck-up,” Elise said, rolling her eyes.

  “Jealous much?” Jackson made a show of hugging Abigail back. “I told you, El, I’m just so danged pretty.”

  Elise scrunched up her nose as if smelling something rotten. “Careful, Gram. His head gets any bigger it just might explode. Trust me; you do not want to get any of that on you.”

  Jackson burst out laughing, just as Ross stormed through the back door with Madison on his heels.

  “Maddy said Uncle Edmond is here causing trouble again.”

  Elise frowned at Madison. “Did she now?”

  Yep. That’s what they needed this afternoon—someone to stir the crazy pot.

  Her sister at least had the good grace to look sheepish. “Sorry, but there was something different about Uncle Edmond this time, and it scared me. So I went and got Ross.”

  “I told Caroline to stay up at the house with the boys until he’s gone,” Ross grumbled. “I don’t want my kids exposed to any more of his crap. Seriously, this has to stop.”

  “I agree,” Jackson put in.

  “Geez, Jackson, don’t fan the flames,” Elise said, but he ignored her.

  “Has your mom thought about that restraining order we talked about last month?”

  Ross snorted. “She won’t even discuss it, but clearly something needs to be done.”

  “Okay, let’s just calm down,” Elise said, stepping into the fray. “You have to look at it from Mom’s point of view, Ross. She doesn’t want to be the one to ban the surviving Beckett brother from land that’s been in his family forever.”

  “That’s just bull, El,” Ross returned. “Uncle Edmond has never been interested in working the land, and you know it. He’s only concerned with what the winery can give him. He’s always looked for an easy buck, a free ride. He would have run it into the ground in short order, and Grandpa Beckett knew it. That’s why he left it to Daddy.”