Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery) Read online

  “And I’m telling you, stay away from Alain or I will make you sorry you didn’t,” Monique told Divia in a heated French accent.

  Divia burst out laughing and shoved Alain’s wife back a few paces. “Really, Monique. If you can’t keep your husband in line it’s not my problem.”

  “No? And what about Toby? Would you consider him and his financial funny business your problem? Does Garrett know what’s going on with the books at his own winery?”

  Monique’s words sobered Divia in a blink, and Elise thought the French beauty may have said too much.

  “You leave my boy out of this, do you hear me?” Divia yelled before advancing on Monique.

  In the next moment, the two women had jumped at each other, and an out-and-out catfight ensued.

  “Oh my Lord! What the hell is wrong with them?” Abigail said in disgust as she flew around the counter and ran toward the scratching, hair-pulling hullabaloo.

  Elise didn’t really want to get involved but felt she had no choice. She and C.C. quickly followed her grandmother over to Third Coast’s booth to provide backup. But before any of them could intervene, Alain Toussaint’s brother Philippe was there to help Divia’s son, Toby Raymond,break up the row.

  “Mom! For God’s sake, calm down,” Toby said, trying to hold a struggling Divia back. “Will you get a grip? People are watching.”

  Slowly, Divia seemed to realize what a spectacle they’d made of themselves, and she quit resisting.

  “Come, Monique, ma petit, let’s go. This woman is not worth our time and Alain will be back soon.” Philippe had Alain’s wife around the waist, but by the look of fury on his sister-in-law’s face, Elise wasn’t sure that was sufficient restraint.

  “I am warning you for the last time, you filthy, worn-out bitch,” Monique spat as she shoved away from Philippe. “You’d better back off and watch your step or you just may end up dead!”

  Well, that’s a lovely sentiment, Elise thought.

  With that parting shot, the French woman turned on her heel and stalked away with Philippe hurrying after her.

  In the silence that followed, Abigail stepped over and laid a hand on Divia’s arm. “Are you all right, Divia?”

  The other woman looked around at the crowd that had gathered before turning her attention to Abigail.

  “Like you give two shits if I’m okay or not,” she sneered. “I’m sure you enjoyed the floor show, Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes DeVries, but it’s over now. So why don’t you take yourself back to your country bumpkin booth and leave me and my husband alone?”

  By the time she finished, Divia was yelling and attracting even more attention—this time sucking Elise’s grandmother into the display as well. With a cry, Divia pushed away from her son and ran up the midway toward restaurant row.

  “I apologize for my mother’s behavior, Ms. DeVries,” Toby said after a moment. He watched his mother disappear into the crowded corridor. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  Abigail shook her head and patted the man’s shoulder. “Not your fault, Toby. Not your fault.”

  She looked over at Elise and C.C. “Come on, girls. Like the woman said, show’s over. Let’s get back to our country bumpkin booth, shall we?”

  “Well, that was dramatic and exciting,” C.C. said when they got back to the booth. “Although, if I was Divia, I don’t think I’d be messing around with anything that belonged to the French chick. Did you see the look of loathing on her face? I almost expected Divia to drop dead from just that one look.”

  Elise nodded and glanced back at Third Coast’s booth. “I know what you mean. Sounds like the situation in south Texas is somewhat volatile. I just hope they left the powder keg at home. After the summer we just had, I’d like to keep the explosions to a minimum.”

  four

  Pulling into the fairground parking lot on Friday afternoon, Jackson parked the big motorcycle and turned off the engine. It was his only day off this week, and he was feeling pretty damn pleased with himself at the moment. And the reason for his pleasure was sitting directly behind him on the bike.

  It had taken quite a bit of cajoling, but he’d managed to talk Elise into riding out to the festival with him this afternoon, then having a nice, quiet dinner together later. Though the dinner had turned into a group deal, at least he’d have her to himself for the day.

  She’d been more than a little reluctant to—as she put it—go anywhere on the back of his “monstrous death machine.” At which point he’d felt obliged to point out that considering the way she drove her little red sports car, riding on the back of his bike ought to be cake and pie.

  Unfortunately, that response didn’t have the desired effect. So, in the end, he’d reminded her that being his “motorcycle momma” would give her the opportunity to wear that fancy leather designer ‘biker’ jacket she’d only worn a handful of times. To his amazement, she’d pounced on that idea almost immediately, deciding that she could pair the jacket with her spiffy knee-high suede boots as well. It still baffled the hell out of him how fashion had won out over any safety concerns she might have had about the bike. Of course, she’d say that he just didn’t get it … and she’d be correct.

  When she climbed down, he pulled off his helmet and then sat watching as she did the same. She bent at the waist, shaking out all that gorgeous, highlighted hair—and he supposed—any possible remains of what she would perceive as helmet head. When she stood up, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face—or the desire that shot through his belly.

  “What?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

  Knowing that the thought zipping through his mind at that precise moment was inappropriate, he chuckled. “Nothing. Just enjoying your transformation from hot horticulturist into super-hot biker chick.”

  She fisted one hand on her cocked hip and fluffed her wild hair with the other. “I am a woman of many facets, Deputy Landry, and don’t you forget it. You are extremely lucky that I even hang around with you.”

  “Oh honey, trust me, I’m aware.” He laughed out loud before pulling her up close and giving her a quick kiss. “You make me look good, darlin’.”

  “Yes. Yes I do.”

  He climbed off the bike and took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go make all the other boys jealous.”

  The festival was already doing a brisk business, which astounded Jackson, it being just shy of two o’clock on a Friday afternoon.

  Didn’t anybody work on Fridays anymore?

  The crowd at River Bend’s booth was three and four deep, and he could see Ross, Caroline, and Laura feverishly working the group, with Miss Abby opening more boxes at the back of the stall.

  “Geez, they’re really busy. Makes me feel kind of guilty,” Elise said, eyeing the frenzy as they strolled by. “It wasn’t half this crazy yesterday. Of course, I didn’t expect it to be since it was a Thursday and opening day. And I know I don’t have any control over it, but still, it makes me feel like we were slacking.”

  He watched closely and could almost see her train of thought before she spoke up. “Maybe I should go back there and help them out for a while.”

  “Huh-uh. No way.”

  “But Jax—”

  He stopped in the middle of the midway and turned to her. “Did y’all not decide on a schedule last week?”

  “Well, yeah. But—”

  He nodded. “And why did you do that?”

  She folded her arms and blew out a breath in a huff, then just stared at him with a mutinous look on her face.

  “I’ll tell you why you did it. So that everyone would work their fair share at the booth. That’s why.” He took her hand and started walking toward restaurant row, pulling her along behind him at a brisk clip. “This is my only day off this week, El. With all the festival prep, we haven’t spent but a handful of hours together over the last month.”


  “Come on, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” When he gave her a narrow look over his shoulder, her eyebrows shot up and she relented. “Well, okay, maybe not, but this time of year is busy, Jax. Anyway, I just hate seeing them getting hammered like that when I could help.”

  He shook his head. “They’ll just have to suck it up, because you promised to spend the day with me, and let me remind you that I’ve already compromised on dinner. It was supposed to be just you and me, remember? Now there’s a whole damn gang going.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Take a breath, wouldja?” Tugging on his hand to slow him down, she slipped her arm through his. “After this weekend, things will ease up and get back to normal. I promise. Then we’ll have plenty of time for just us, all right?”

  As they rounded the corner, they ran into Madison and Toby Raymond standing in line at The Plough’s booth.

  “Hey, you two,” Madison said with a wave and then introduced Toby—whom Jackson had heard about but never actually met.

  If Elise thought it was odd that her sister was hanging out with the son of the woman who’d caused such a ruckus with the family, it didn’t show. Jackson tried to follow her lead, but he still thought it was damn weird.

  “What are you guys up to?” she asked, as if seeing them together was an everyday event.

  “We’re taking a break,” Madison replied, casting what Jackson saw as a very flirty look toward Toby. “Toby was nice enough to help me haul a few crates of wine from the truck to the booth.”

  “A few?” Toby asked with a charming grin for Elise’s younger sister. “Felt more like we moved a stockroom full.”

  That response earned him a light punch in the arm and another saucy smile from Madison. “It wasn’t that bad and you know it.”

  Toby laughed and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m joking, gorgeous. I was happy to help.”

  Madison literally beamed at him before looking over at Elise and Jackson, as if just remembering they were there. “Anyway, we’re about to have a bite to eat. Have you guys eaten yet?” she asked. “If not, the food here is awesome.”

  “Yes, C.C. and I had lunch here yesterday,” Elise replied. “I’ve actually eaten at the restaurant in Austin a couple of times and the food is amazing. I met Grace Vanderhouse yesterday, too. She’s the Executive Chef for the restaurant and a friend of C.C.’s.”

  “I’m sorry, did you say Grace Vanderhouse?” Toby asked with an intense look, and Jackson thought he even paled slightly.

  Weirder and weirder …

  Elise nodded. “Yes, do you know her?”

  When the man didn’t answer right away, Madison put a hand on his sleeve. “Toby? Are you all right?” she asked with obvious concern. “You don’t look so good.”

  After a moment, Toby blinked and seemed to come to his senses. “Wha—? Oh, I felt a little light-headed for a minute, that’s all. Must be the humidity. No matter how long I’ve lived in the sticky heat of south Texas, I’ve never really gotten used to it.”

  “Well, our weather here has been pretty wacky lately,” Madison said with a shake of her head. “Monday was freezing, and today we’re back to the upper sixties and muggy.”

  “Are you sure it’s just the weather, Toby?” Jackson asked, thinking the man looked like someone had just walked over his grave.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. But maybe I’ll go back to the booth, get a bottle of water, and try to cool off. Wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in the middle of the walkway. And I suddenly don’t feel like eating.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Madison asked, her eyes full of distress.

  “No. You go ahead and eat, Maddy.” He smiled down at her and patted her hand. “And don’t worry about me. Enjoy your afternoon. I’m sure this will pass. I’ll meet up with you later. Toucan’s On Main, right?”

  Madison searched his face again before nodding. “Seven thirty.”

  Jackson watched the man walk away and thought something about his demeanor appeared off. Maybe he really wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden, but it seemed more like something had spooked him—and spooked him good. But what? Was it something as simple as hearing Grace Vanderhouse’s name? And why would that cause such a strong reaction?

  “Okay, did anyone else find that really odd and a little awkward?” Elise asked. “Or was it just me?”

  “Oh no. That was peculiar,” Jackson replied.

  Madison frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Elise stared at her sister with her mouth open. “Well, Maddy, geez. Did you see his face when I mentioned Grace’s name? And what the hell are you doing hanging around with Divia Larson’s son, for that matter? Did I hear correctly that you invited him to dinner with us tonight?”

  “You’re always making something out of nothing, El.” Madison pointed at Elise before crossing her arms. “And yes, I did invite him to dinner with us tonight. Just because his mother is hard to be around doesn’t mean Toby is the same way. He’s actually very sweet and hates that his mom treats the people around her so poorly.”

  “That may be true, Maddy,” Jackson said in a gentle tone. “But it sure did look like it was the mention of Grace Vanderhouse that upset him rather than the humidity.”

  “I know, right?” Elise turned to him and nodded. “And here’s the really weird thing. Yesterday Grace had a similar reaction to Divia’s name.”

  Madison rolled her eyes. “Come on, El. What is this? Some kind of conspiracy theory?”

  “No, I’m serious,” Elise insisted. “And she had the same stunned look on her face, I kid you not.”

  “Did you ask her about it?” Jackson asked.

  Elise nodded. “Yes. But she passed it off as Divia being an unusual name. Said she didn’t know the Larsons.”

  “Well, maybe she didn’t know them.” Madison sighed. “And Divia is an unusual name. What’s so odd about remarking on it?”

  “So you think they know each other and she didn’t want to say so?” Jackson asked.

  Elise shook her head. “I don’t know. I asked C.C. where Grace was from; if she came from south Texas, thinking there might be a connection. But C.C. said Grace is from Georgia originally, so I don’t know how they would know each other. I didn’t think much about it until seeing Toby’s reaction just now.”

  “Again, you’re making a huge deal out of what is probably nothing. Maybe Toby simply wasn’t feeling well.” Madison gave her sister a dirty look. “You know what? I think I’m done listening to you two. I’ll talk to you later.”

  They watched her disappear into the crowd before Elise turned to him and asked, “Do you think we were making too much out of this?”

  Jackson scratched his head and thought about it for a moment. “I gotta say—though I don’t want to be one of those guys labeled as a ‘conspiracy freak’—no matter what Maddy says, that whole thing had a very strange vibe to it.”

  A sexy smile slipped across Elise’s face and she patted his cheek with the palm of her hand. “This would be why we make such a good pair, sweetie. Great minds, same plane.”

  “Yeah, well your sweetie here is feeling very peckish and needs to eat. So, let’s get to it.”

  _____

  It took them a couple hours, but after they’d perused every booth and tried every sample offered, it was finally time to head back into town. The late afternoon sunlight was waning, and Elise was talking about taking a nap before dinner with the group later that evening. Jackson would normally be fine with that scenario, but they’d had so little time together lately he didn’t want to waste the rest of his afternoon sleeping.

  Plus, he had to admit, the thought of napping during daylight hours worried him some. He had an idea that was how the decline began. One minute you were a vital young man, full of piss and vinegar. The next thing you knew, you were a doddering old fo
ol who couldn’t keep his eyes open in the afternoon. And it all started with napping during the day. Of course, if he was watching ESPN while she napped, that would be a different kettle of fish.

  When they wandered back along the midway toward the exit, he gave Ross a smug nod when they passed River Bend’s booth. It was still packed with customers, and Jackson could read the nasty comment on his friend’s face as they continued on down the thoroughfare. God help him, he couldn’t help but snicker to himself. He loved the Becketts dearly, but he’d contemplate putting a bullet in his own head before manning a booth at the festival. Some individuals just weren’t cut out for that kind of customer service.

  As he and Elise headed out into the parking lot and the specialty parking area where he’d left the bike, a loud argument caught their attention and could be clearly heard from a few aisles over. He glanced in that direction, and by the looks of things, Toby Raymond, miraculously recovered from his sudden illness, was having a heated conversation with his mother.

  “That’s not what you told me back then. Shall I remind you what you said at the time?” he shouted.

  “Would you lower your voice, please?” Divia Larson snapped in a sharp tone, and even from a distance Jackson could tell that she was not happy. “You were a child back then, Toby, barely ten years old. What you remember from that time would be hazy at best and probably fit in a thimble.”

  “My recollection is just fine, Mother. I need you to tell me what’s going on. Why someone you said was dead—someone important to me—is actually alive and well.”

  “Toby, sweetheart, I don’t know what you’re talking about, or what you think you heard or saw, but all I can say is that it must be some kind of coincidence.”

  Toby laughed out loud at that, but it didn’t sound to Jackson like he was all that amused. “Really, Mom? A coincidence? That’s what you’re going with here? You really are a piece of work.”

  “You watch your tone, son.”

  Jackson stepped up his pace, guiding Elise to the motorcycle, and they exchanged looks. He so did not want to get involved with anyone else’s squabbles right now. This was supposed to be his day off with his girl.