Grapes of Death Page 6

  Elise put up a hand in the direction of both women. “Ladies, ladies—and I do use the term loosely—let’s not come to blows right here in the restaurant, okay?”

  The waitress picked that moment to come back to the table with their drink orders, and nobody said a word while she handed them out.

  Elise jumped back in the moment the girl walked away. “Okay, I know there are all sorts of rumors flying around town about Uncle Edmond’s death, but I think C.C. is right. I don’t want to add to the conjecture. In any case, I prefer to wait until the ME makes a ruling.”

  C.C. made a squeamish face. “And I think that’s really all the talk about death I want to hear for one evening. Can’t we just have a nice dinner and gossip about fun stuff? Like what kind of gaudy mess Deana Wilkinson will dream up to torture her bridesmaids with on her wedding day?”

  Elise laughed along with the rest of the women but was secretly relieved when the conversation moved on. There would be a whole lot more talk if the ME ruled her uncle’s death anything other than accidental. With the mayor’s daughter getting married at Lodge Merlot next weekend, gaudy mess or not, the negative publicity of a homicide would be devastating. She didn’t even want to think about what that would mean for her family or River Bend, but she knew it wouldn’t be good.

  The rest of dinner passed with great food and pleasant conversation, the subject of Edmond’s demise forgotten, at least for the mo-

  ment. The girls walked down the street and through the door at the Dew Drop Inn at twenty after eight. They were seated with drinks in their hands and tequila poppers on the table ten minutes after that.

  The band was already playing their first set of the night and C.C. had to shout over the music to be heard. “Here’s to a night out with good friends.” She banged her shot glass on the table and downed her popper with the toast. Grimacing, she licked her lips and declared, “We so need to do this more often, girls.”

  “Amen, sista!” Miranda called out, as in turn they each banged their glasses on the table, downing the first shots of the evening.

  “Ack!” Elise made a face and chased her popper with a gulp of her beer, as if it would miraculously rid her of the lingering taste of tequila. Poppers were not her choice in drinks.

  Tina laughed and shouted, “Geez, El, you’re such a wimp.”

  “Why? Because I prefer a good Merlot to shooters and beer? Hello! I’ve grown up on a vineyard. It’s in my blood.”

  “You can have your fancy Merlot,” Miranda said over the music with a shake of her golden curls. “I’ll take shooters, beer, and the sight of so many fine-looking cowboys in snug-fitting jeans any day of the week.”

  “Mmm, girl, you know I’m with you on that!” C.C. chimed in just as the band ended the current song. “It’s a dang shame that we’re the only two unattached women at the table, but someone’s got to pick up the slack.”

  Miranda gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yep, we’ll just have to carry on.”

  Just then C.C. sat up a little straighter and stared through the crowd toward the door. “Yes, Ma’am! Speaking of fine-looking cowboys in snug jeans …”

  They all turned and followed her gaze, watching Jackson and Jeff Turney, Tina’s fiancé, make their way down the bar.

  “Okay, that’s not fair,” Tina complained. “How can I drool over other men with Jeff here to watch?”

  “Can’t,” Brenda stated with a wry grin. “That’s what you get for being in a relationship.”

  Elise’s pulse jumped at the sight of Jackson in civilian clothes. He did indeed fill out a pair of jeans with exceptional style, she noted.

  “I’m telling you, I could eat Jackson Landry up with a spoon,” Miranda drawled.

  C.C. hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Get in line, sweetheart.”

  “Yes, it’s a damn shame that he’s taken, girls.” Elise wrinkled her nose. “Although, how Maelene McKinney got her hooks into him in the first place, I will never understand.”

  “You mean was taken, don’t you?” Brenda asked with a twinkle in her emerald-green eyes.

  “What?”

  C.C. gave her a sad look. “Uh, El, he and Maelene called it quits over a month ago. Where’ve you been?”

  “How do you know that?” Elise demanded to know. Jackson was single again? The air in the bar suddenly seemed thin, and she found it difficult to catch her breath.

  “Sweetie, he’s your brother’s best friend. How is it that you didn’t know that?” C.C. slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh, wait. You’ve been busy with what’s-his-name. That’s right.”

  “Very funny,” Elise said, watching Jackson flirt with just about every female he came across as he and Jeff headed toward their table. “And I wish you’d quit calling Stuart that. I don’t know why you don’t like him; you don’t even know him.”

  “Honey, I don’t have anything against Stewie, per se, other than the fact that the few times I’ve met him, he seemed terribly stuffy and pretentious, that is. That’s also the point, El. He’s been here, what? Three or four times? With each visit I got the impression he felt he was slumming it in the sticks, and that he couldn’t wait to get back to the big city.” C.C. slung an arm around Elise’s shoulder and spoke quietly into her ear as the two men arrived at the table. “I’m sure he’s very nice and I’m probably judging him harshly. I just don’t think he’s the guy for you, that’s all. But that’s another conversation for another night.”

  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. Ar
e 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.”

&nb
sp; “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’?”