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

  On the heels of that thought, it seemed like the argument came to an abrupt end with Mrs. Larson having the last word. “You need to calm down. This is absurd, and I am not going to continue this conversation.”

  She spun around and walked away from her son. Toby took a deep breath, and then scrubbed his hands over his face. He stood staring out over the parking lot for another moment or two before following her back into the venue.

  “Well … that was illuminating,” Elise said as she twisted her hair up into a knot at the top of her head. “What do you think that was all about? Grace Vanderhouse, perhaps?”

  Jackson shook his head as he watched her pull on her helmet. “Don’t know and don’t really care.” Swinging a leg over the motorcycle, he put on his own helmet and flipped up the visor. “None of my business.”

  “Come on, Jax,” she said, climbing onto the bike and settling in behind him. “Aren’t you at least curious?”

  “Not even a little bit,” he replied before firing up the engine. “Hang on, darlin’. We’re gonna motor out onto the highway now and go really, really fast.”

  Revving the engine, he popped the clutch and the bike lurched forward. He probably took more pleasure than he should have in the way she squealed and grabbed him around the middle when they shot out of the parking lot onto the road, but damn if he didn’t enjoy it.

  In the end, they opted for a long ride in the country instead of a nap and sports on the tube. Jackson dropped Elise off at her apartment at a quarter to six and ran home to shower and change vehicles.

  When he came back a little over an hour later, she still wasn’t ready, which was no surprise to him. He’d known her most of his life and had accepted long ago that Elise Brianna Beckett just wasn’t made for punctuality. And he was okay with that.

  She let him into the apartment with a flurry of chaotic energy. “I’m almost done. Go keep Chunk company in the living room for a minute while I finish up. He’s pouting because I locked up the new shoe purchases in the closet and he hasn’t been able to even get a good whiff of ’em yet.” She waved a hand in the direction of the living room, then quickly disappeared down the hall.

  Jackson sauntered into the other room and squinted down at the fat cat in the Papasan chair. “So … thwarted in your pursuit of fabulous new shoes?”

  When the cat stared back at him with the inscrutable look all cats seem to innately possess, he shook his head. “Dude, you do know this shoe fetish thing is, like, so unmanly, right? And it’s a little creepy. Chicks don’t dig creepy.”

  “You got that right, pal,” Elise said, entering the living room in a swirl of perfume that made his mouth water. “Are you ready to go?”

  He walked over and stared down at her gloss-slicked lips. “Will be in just a sec.” Before she could protest, he grabbed her up and kissed her thoroughly, enjoying the way she melted against him after a moment and kissed him back with abandon.

  “Jax,” she said with a sigh when he’d satisfied them both. “I just put on my lip gloss. Now you’re wearing half of it and the rest is mushed all over the lower half of my face.”

  Wiping his bottom lip with his thumb, he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Well, darlin’, it’s your own fault. You smell like heaven and taste like dessert.” He took her arm and herded her toward the front door before she could backtrack to the bathroom. “And I gotta tell you, I kinda like you a little mushed up.”

  The walk to Delphine’s premier Mexican restaurant Toucan’s On Main was short, and they were only ten minutes late arriving, which was probably a record where Elise was concerned. Ross, Caroline, C.C., and Madison had already procured a table and were sipping drinks while they waited.

  “Hey, buddy,” Jackson said, sitting down next to Ross. “You and Caro having a night out free of parental responsibilities, I see.”

  “Yeah.” Ross nodded and slid a wry look at his wife before continuing, “It doesn’t happen very often, so we like to take advantage when it does.”

  “It’s nice to have a night to ourselves,” Caroline agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys, but sometimes I just want to spend time with adults.”

  C.C. laughed. “Well, I’m not sure we qualify, but I know what you mean.”

  “I thought Grace was coming, C.C.” Elise said.

  “She sent me a text to say she had a last-minute meeting and would have to take a rain check on dinner.”

  “That’s too bad.” Elise frowned and sent a quick look to Jackson.

  He figured he knew what she was thinking and casually turned to Madison. “Is Toby still coming?” he asked. “We saw him in the parking lot as we were leaving the festival. He looked like he was feeling better.”

  “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m sure he’ll be here. He’s probably just running late, too. We’ve already decided not to wait on him to order.”

  “Good, because I’m starving,” Jackson replied.

  “For the love of God, Jax,” Elise said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re always starving. I don’t know how you can eat like you do and not gain an ounce.”

  “Good genes, baby. Good genes.”

  The waitress came by then, and they ordered. Thirty minutes later their food had been delivered, and Toby Raymond finally arrived in a flurry, looking a bit disheveled.

  “Sorry I’m late. I got hung up,” he said, taking off his coat and slinging it over his chair before sitting down next to Madison with a smile just for her. “I see y’all ordered. Good. I wouldn’t want to hold up your dinner.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Madison said and made a grab for his coat before it hit the floor when it slipped off the back of his chair. “Hey, you’re missing a button,” she told him good-naturedly, as she handed the garment back to him.

  “Thanks,” he replied, and his face turned scarlet. “I must have gotten caught on something.”

  Madison grinned at him and made the introductions, while Ross flagged down the waitress. Toby glanced at the menu she brought him and had just given her his order when Jackson’s cell phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looked at the readout and quickly answered. “Hey, Miss Abby. You looking for Elise?”

  “No, Jackson. I’m looking for you,” she said on the other end of the line.

  He didn’t like the sound of her voice and the cop in him immediately went on alert. Something was wrong, that much was obvious. “Well, you found me, sweetheart,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light. “What’s the matter?”

  “I need you to come, Jackson. And I mean, right now.”

  “Of course I’ll come. If you need me, I’ll head out now. Where are you?”

  “I’m at the Lost Pines Motel. Divia Larson’s room. Please, you need to come right away. She’s dead, Jackson.”

  five

  Jackson hung up the phone and could literally feel all eyes at the table on him.

  “Jax?” Elise laid a hand on his arm. “Was that Gram? What’s wrong?”

  How on earth did he explain the situation, especially to the man sitting across the table from him? There was a very good possibility Toby’s mother was dead. Of course, he didn’t know that for certain, and until he did, he wasn’t about to pass on unconfirmed information and cause a panic.

  On the other hand, if Mrs. Larson really was deceased—and he had no reason to believe Miss Abby was mistaken—he was going to have to tell a family member as soon as he finished inspecting the scene.

  So, what was Miss Abby doing in the woman’s motel room? Wasn’t there a mutual dislike between the two of them? And just where was Mr. Larson?

  “Jax?” Elise prompted when his mind began its investigatory rabbit-trail. “You’re scaring me. What’s happened? Is Gram all right?”

  Taking her hand, he looked around the table at the expectant faces. “Miss Abby is fine. She’s out at the Lost Pines Motel. S
ound’s like there’s been an incident and she wants me to come.”

  “What? The Lost Pines Motel? What’s she doing over there?” Ross asked with a frown, before glancing down at his watch. “It’s almost nine o’clock, for God’s sake.”

  “I don’t know anything yet, other than the fact that Miss Abby is okay.”

  “We’re staying at that motel, along with a lot of other festival attendees,” Toby said. “It didn’t seem like a place where there’d be trouble.”

  “Come on, Jax. You have to know more than what you’re telling us,” Madison said, shooting him a skeptical look. “What kind of incident?”

  At that point the conversation began to deteriorate and everyone started yammering at once. Jackson finally had to raise his voice above the din to get control of the situation before it got out of hand. The last thing he needed was unsubstantiated rumors flying around town before he even got out to the potential scene.

  “Enough, y’all! Geez, we’re in a public place. Act like rational adults, would you? Like I said, I don’t have any of the facts yet. Hell, I just got off the damn phone. I am not, repeat, not going to speculate on anything until I get out there and see for myself what’s what.”

  Standing, he took out his wallet and threw down a couple of twenties. Looking over at Ross, he nodded at the bills. “That should be enough to cover me and El.”

  “Now, wait just a minute, Jax—”

  Elise spoke up and cut her brother off as soon as he started to object. “Don’t worry, Ross. I’ll ride out with Jackson. I’ll stay with Gram until you guys finish up here.”

  “Toby, I’m gonna need you to follow us out there as soon as you’re done eating as well,” Jackson said. “Sounds like your mother might be involved in whatever has transpired.” He didn’t want to say too much, but to leave the man here at the restaurant without saying anything at all seemed wrong and somewhat heartless.

  “Oh, God. What’s she done now?” the man asked with a shake of his head. “With my mom, it’s always something.”

  “Again, I don’t know anything for sure, so I’d rather not speculate about what may or may not have happened.”

  Toby nodded. “All right. I’ll have the waitress box up my order and be along as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll wait with Toby.” Madison turned to the man. “If that’s okay with you.”

  Toby gave her a shy smile. “Sure. That’ll work.”

  Jackson pulled out his keys, thinking that his one day off was probably about to end very poorly. “Come on, El. Let’s get a move on. I don’t want to keep Miss Abby waiting any longer than necessary.”

  They left the restaurant and hadn’t gone half a block before Elise started grilling him. “Are you gonna tell me what’s really going on?”

  “Not out here on the street, I’m not.”

  They walked the rest of the way to his pickup in silence, but she didn’t waste any time after they climbed in and he’d fired up the engine.

  “Okay. Give. What is Gram doing out at the Lost Pines Motel? And what aren’t you saying?”

  “Evidently she went out to see Divia Larson,” he said as he headed the vehicle out of town.

  “I beg your pardon? Gram can’t stand the woman. Why would she go see her?”

  “No idea. I’m more interested in the reason Miss Abby called me.”

  “Well, spit it out. What did Gram say?”

  Jackson slid an annoyed look her way. “Impatient much?”

  “Jax!”

  “Okay, okay. She called me because she says Mrs. Larson is dead.”

  “What?” Elise shrieked. “Divia’s dead? When? For the love of God, how?”

  “Well, geez, El. I don’t know any of that yet, do I? That would be why we’re presently driving out there.”

  “Nobody likes a smart ass, Jackson.” Blowing out a breath, she shook her head. “This is all so shocking. I mean, we just saw her earlier today. Toby is going to be distraught. Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “What could I tell him, Elise? Nothing has been confirmed. I trust that if your grandmother says Divia’s dead, then she probably is, but at this point it’s all conjecture—hearsay. That was one of the reasons I didn’t want to say too much in the restaurant. God, El, the guy was sitting right across the table from me.”

  “I know. This is terrible. I don’t understand what Gram was doing out there, Jax. And at this time of night.”

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  And he was right. It didn’t take long before they were pulling into the motel parking lot.

  The Lost Pines Motel was your run-of-the-mill small town lodging establishment. The 1950s style building was L-shaped with a large parking lot and a covered walkway that ran the length of the structure.

  It was owned and operated by Theo and Harriet Wilson, and they ran it in a squeaky-clean fashion. To Jackson’s knowledge, there’d never been more than the usual calls of excessive noise or disturbing the peace here, and those had been few and very far between.

  A death at their motel would devastate Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, especially if that death was anything other than natural causes. He hated to think about an alternate possibility, but he couldn’t get the sound of Miss Abby’s voice out of his head. And he had a very bad feeling in his gut.

  He spotted Elise’s grandmother before he’d even pulled the truck into a parking spot. She’d taken a chair from the room out onto the walkway and was sitting in it with her back to the door. He grabbed a pair of latex gloves out of the console between the seats, which earned him an odd look from Elise.

  “Just what are you expecting, Jax? A homicide?” she asked with a bit of sarcasm. “I mean, Divia was a piece of work, but I doubt someone did her in out here at the Lost Pines Motel.”

  “You never know, darlin’. Regardless, I have to follow protocol.”

  “Jackson,” Abigail acknowledged when he climbed out of the cab and walked toward her, “thanks for coming.”

  “Gram, are you all right?” Elise asked as she followed him over and squatted down in front of her grandmother. “What’s going on here?”

  “I’m fine, baby girl. But unfortunately, Divia Larson is not.” Abigail stood up and removed the chair blocking the door before turning to Jackson. “The minute I found her I called you. I pulled this chair out of the room, but I didn’t touch anything else, other than to check for a pulse, that is.”

  Jackson nodded. “I need you two to stay out here while I go in and have a quick look.”

  Abigail had stuck her purse in the jamb so as not to get locked out of the room, which was smart. He put on the gloves but was still careful not to touch the knob. Giving the door a shove, he did a quick scan of the room before entering and partially closing the door behind him.

  The first thing he noticed was Divia Larson’s body lying between the foot of the bed closest to the wall and the adjacent dresser.

  Carefully, he walked over to her body and checked her vitals himself, verifying Abigail’s claim that the woman was indeed deceased. She had a deep gash over one eye and the cherry-red blood that had run down her face had not yet dried, telling him the wound was fairly fresh. A closer look showed that the color in the victim’s face was noticeably pink.

  Bright red blood, pinker than normal skin tone. Warning bells were beginning to peal in Jackson’s head.

  Looking around the room, he noticed an open bottle of Merlot—River Bend Reserve—on the cabinet next to a solitary empty glass. Leaning over, he gave the glass a sniff.

  And those warning bells got louder.

  Stepping over Divia’s body, he glanced into the bathroom. Everything seemed normal, with the exception of a glass that looked to be recently washed and left to drain on a damp towel on the counter next to the sink.

  Pulling out his cell phone, he called the station.
“Hey Jim, this is Jackson Landry,” he began when fellow Deputy Jim Stockton answered the line. “I’ve got a situation out here at the Lost Pines Motel.”

  “You and everyone else, it seems. What is it tonight? A full moon or something?” the deputy asked. “We’ve had all sorts of wild calls tonight. Dub Pendergast drank a boatload of his homemade mead and went berserk out at the Rum Pot, and Rusty Falcone shot out his neighbor’s tires, evidently because said neighbor had the audacity to park on the street just a smidgen too close to Rusty’s driveway.” Jim chuckled on the other end of the line. “And the best call? Sam Gordon got his johnson stuck in a knot hole in the fence between his property and Willard Nelson’s yard. Fortunately for him, he had his cell phone on him. Don’t know what Willard would’ve done had he found his nemesis stuck in the fence like that after pissing in his yard.”

  “Sounds like it’s been a busy night.” Jackson sighed. “I hate to add to the craziness, but I think I can trump all of it. I’ve got a dead body out here.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yeah. I’ve done a preliminary, but for reasons I won’t go into on the phone, I’m calling this a suspicious death. I’ll tape off the room as soon as I hang up and then wait for the team.”

  “Okay. Sounds good. Can you give me the basics?”

  “Female, Caucasian, mid-fifties. The victim’s name is Divia Larson. She was here with Third Coast Winery for the food and wine festival. And after a cursory look at the scene, I’ve got more questions than answers at this point. Elise’s grandmother found the body, and I’ll be taking her statement directly.”

  “Uh … okay. I’ll get a team out there ASAP.”

  “Thanks.” That was the easy part, Jackson thought as he hung up. Now came the hard part.

  Stepping out of the room, he pulled the door closed behind him, taking care in case there were prints to be found. The door would lock behind him and effectively block off what he was beginning to think of as a crime scene. He’d get a key from the office for the crew in a minute, but first things, first.