Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery) Page 7

  All through the nearly two-hour process, one question kept circling around in her mind. Where was Divia’s husband? The woman had told her grandmother on the phone that Garrett had gone into Austin for a meeting and wouldn’t be back until late. But it was going on eleven o’clock at night and he still hadn’t returned. Madison had tried to contact Garrett with the mobile number Toby had given her earlier, but the calls had gone straight to voicemail.

  Abigail continued to worry that her former beau would get back to the motel after everyone had gone, only to find his wife missing and their room blocked off with crime scene tape. It was a terrible situation and Elise hated seeing her grandmother so upset.

  For the past twenty minutes or so, Jackson had been gently pressuring them all to go home and just when they were about to do that, another vehicle pulled into the parking lot.

  Garrett Larson had finally come back from Austin—or wherever he’d been.

  Elise watched the older man get out of his car and come toward them with a worried look on his face. Then he zeroed in on her grandmother.

  “Abigail? What are you doing here?” His gaze went from the motel room door, to Jackson, and back to her, as if she alone held all the answers he needed. “Why is our room blocked off? Where are Divia and Toby? Has something happened?”

  When Jackson tried to step in, her grandmother stopped him with a shake of her head and a pleading look.

  “Garrett,” Abigail’s tone was soft as she reached out to take the man’s hand. “I’m so sorry, but yes, something terrible has happened. I don’t know how to soften the blow, so I’ll just say it. I’m afraid that Divia is dead.”

  The man blinked several times as if trying to understand a complicated foreign language. “That … that can’t be,” he finally said. “I … I just talked to her this afternoon. She said they were doing brisk sales out at the festival and she probably wouldn’t come back to the room until after dinner. There must be some mistake.”

  Abigail shook her head and looked him in the eye. “Garrett, there is no mistake. I found her myself. Again, I’m so sorry.”

  The man paled then and looked like he might drop at any second. Abigail guided him to the chair that was still sitting off to the side where she’d moved it. “Sit here a moment and get your breath. I know this is dreadful news and a lot to take in. Toby gave Maddy your cell number and she tried to call you several times but got no answer. I think she left a couple messages.”

  Garrett looked up at her with a vacant look, and his eyes filled with tears. “I … uh … I was in a meeting and turned my phone off for the duration. I guess I forgot to turn it back on.”

  “It’s okay. That’s not important right now.”

  “What happened, Abigail? What happened to my Divia? And what were you doing in our hotel room?”

  Jackson stepped over and knelt down next to Garrett’s chair. “Mr. Larson, I’m Deputy Jackson Landry. I’m sorry for your loss, sir. Miss Abby called me when she found your wife. We don’t have a lot of information to go on yet and are still trying to piece together just what happened. You said you were in Austin at a meeting. I’m going to need the particulars, as well as anyone that can confirm your presence there.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” Garrett said, his face showing genuine confusion. “Why would you need to confirm information about my meeting? And where is Toby? None of this makes any sense to me.”

  “Jackson, do you think this could wait until morning?” Abigail asked with a pointed look. “He’s had a tremendous shock and needs time to absorb what’s happened.”

  After a moment, Jackson nodded. “Of course. Your stepson is in his room, Mr. Larson, but he was very upset. Doctor Nagle gave him a sedative. We’ve secured another room for you, and Miss Abby took the liberty of moving some of your things there. Maybe she could show you the way.”

  “Yes. That’s a good idea, Jackson. Thank you,” Abigail said.

  “Gram, do you want us to wait for you?” Elise asked. She didn’t want to leave her grandmother here alone. Garrett Larson looked devastated, and although he said he was at a meeting in Austin, until Jackson confirmed that, Elise wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. At least not where her grandmother was concerned.

  “No, baby girl. You and Ross go on home.”

  “But Gram—” Ross began before she cut him off.

  “Ross Alexander, I’ll be right along as soon as I get Garrett into his new room. I’ll call you when I get home. Now go.” She turned to Mr. Larson and helped him to stand. “Come on, Garrett. I’ve got your room key right here. Let’s get you settled.”

  Abigail took Mr. Larson by the arm and guided him down the breezeway toward his new room, passing Madison as she came out of Toby’s room.

  “Mr. Larson finally got back?” Madison asked when she reached them. “I’m glad he got here before everyone left. That would have made a terrible situation even worse.”

  Slipping an arm around Jackson, Elise took comfort from him when he enfolded her into his embrace. “Oh Jax, this is all so sad. I mean, Divia may not have been the most well-liked person in town, but why would someone intentionally poison her?”

  “I know. And not to sound callous, but it’s a really crappy way to end my one day off.” He gave her a quick squeeze. “Unfortunately, I’m going to be awhile longer, so I’m going to have Ross drop you, okay?”

  She nodded. “That’s fine, as long as you promise to stay until Gram heads home as well. I don’t want her out here on her own.”

  “Will do.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Toby’s finally asleep,” Madison said. “I am so ready to go home. This whole thing has been too stressful for words, especially after going through everything with Uncle Edmond’s homicide just a couple of months ago.”

  “Do you want me to drop you at your car, Maddy? Or do you just want to ride home with me?” Ross asked.

  “You can drop me at the car since you’re taking El home. My car is parked just up the street from her apartment.”

  As the three of them headed for Ross’ car, the wheels began to turn in Elise’s mind. “I think the first thing we need to do is make a list,” she said as Ross pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the highway.

  “A list? What kind of list?” Madison asked from the back seat.

  “An inventory of all the people who had a problem with Divia Larson.”

  Ross chuckled. “I hate to speak ill of the recently dead, but considering the kind of person she was, that inventory could be pretty lengthy, El.”

  “Well, we have to start somewhere, right?”

  “What are you two talking about?” Madison asked. “You’re not butting into Jackson’s police business again, are you?”

  “No.” Elise said. “We’re just going to make sure that Gram is cleared of any suspicions.” She gave her sister a run-through of her earlier conversation with Ross. When she was finished, she turned and looked over the seat at Madison. “So? In or out?”

  Her sister sighed and rolled her eyes, but in the end relented. “In, of course. Where do we start?”

  seven

  Good news travels fast. At least, that’s what Elise had always heard, but what she found was that bad news usually ended up winning the race. By the time the festival gates opened on Saturday morning, it seemed reports of Divia Larson’s death were common knowledge.

  And it wasn’t pretty.

  While River Bend’s booth was experiencing a lull in customers by mid-morning, Third Coast across the way was jam-packed.

  “I’m sorry, but don’t you find it just incredibly ghoulish the way people will flock to a tragedy like maggots to a carcass?” C.C. asked as they watched the frenzy from the other side of the midway. “It’s positively macabre.”

  Elise leaned on the co
unter next to her friend and made a face. “Well, speaking of macabre, I find your analogy gross and completely inappropriate, but I get your point. Yesterday, they were having a hard time giving their wine away over there. Today everybody wants to say they bought their vino from the dead woman’s booth. It’s pretty repulsive, but typical.”

  “I guess.”

  “You should’ve seen the rubber-neckers pouring out of their rooms last night at the motel trying to get a glimpse of the action. With some of the festival vendors staying at Lost Pines, it’s no wonder the news of Divia’s death has spread like a brush fire.”

  C.C. turned to her with a sour look. “I say again, ghoulish.”

  Elise laughed at her friend’s expression. “Yes. Very.”

  “Hey, aren’t we supposed to be making some kind of list? With so many people around here having a beef with the victim, we should probably get started, don’t you think? Might take us a while.”

  “Right again, my friend, and I’ve already started it.” Elise pulled a notepad out of her bag before nodding up the midway toward the entrance where the Toussaints could be seen coming their way. “And speaking of suspects …”

  “Yeah. Scary French chick alert,” C.C. muttered. “I think she should go to the top of the list after that cat fight we witnessed on Thursday.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And didn’t Frenchie actually say something about Divia ending up dead if she didn’t leave her husband alone?”

  “Yes. Loud and clear. I’d venture a guess that Monique wouldn’t think twice about poisoning Divia if she thought she could get away with it. She’d probably enjoy it. And I think a woman would do a better job of cleaning up after killing someone than a man, don’t you?”

  “Well, yeah. Men can be such slobs,” C.C. said with a grin. “But that doesn’t mean that Mr. Handsome Toussaint there couldn’t have done the deed. After all, the scuffle between those two crazy girls was about a little sumpin’-sumpin’ supposedly going on between him and Mrs. Larson, right?”

  Elise pointed the pen in her friend’s direction. “You make an excellent point. But we’re going to have to get some evidence to support the allegations. Just because Monique thought there was something going on between Divia and Alain doesn’t necessarily mean there actually was.”

  “True,” C.C. said with a naughty gleam in her eye. “But I have to say, it’s quite salacious to think about.”

  “Maybe so, but if Divia and Alain were having an affair, and Monique already knew about it or at least suspected, then what would be his motive?”

  “Hmm. That’s a good question. To which I have no answer …yet.”

  Monique Toussaint had her arm through her husband’s and looked like she hadn’t a care in the world as she strolled beside him. When they got closer, the couple veered over to River Bend’s booth, and Monique was all smiles.

  “Bonjour, Elise,” the French beauty said. “Have you heard the ghastly news about Divia Larson?”

  Well, for crying out loud. Let’s get right to the gory details, shall we? And with a smile on your face.

  “Good morning.” Elise nodded and heaved a sigh. “It’s really terrible, isn’t it?”

  “Mmm.” Monique clucked her tongue. “I was thinking this must be quite unsettling for you and your family.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Elise couldn’t keep the shock from her voice. “What do you mean by that, Monique? I should think this would be unsettling for everyone here at the festival. You included.”

  “Mais oui, of course. A tragedy such as this is dreadful for all of us in the vineyard community. I did not intend to cause offense, I only meant that with your uncle’s grizzly murder not so long ago, this horrible news must be doubly upsetting to you.” The French woman gave an exaggerated shudder. “And of course, with your grand-mère being the one to find poor Divia. Very distressing, is it not?”

  “Yes. Very,” Elise replied in a cool tone.

  “I heard somewhere that Garrett and your grand-mère were once sweethearts. Is this true?”

  The question was posed innocently enough with just the right amount of concern in her voice, but Elise wasn’t fooled. Monique knew very well the history between Garrett Larson and her grandmother. She read the underlying implication Monique was obviously trying to make with crystal clarity. “Yes. Gram and Garrett were high school sweethearts. But that was ages ago.”

  The other woman gave her a sympathetic pout. “Ah, yes. But one never forgets a first love, n’est-ce-pas? I’m certain it was difficult for her to see him in a loveless marriage with a woman who thinks only of herself and what she can take.”

  “Monique,” Alain Toussaint spoke up in a warning tone. “That is only your opinion. You should not voice things you can’t know as fact.”

  Monique’s mouth dropped open and she looked like she would object, but then seemed to catch herself. “But you are correct, of course, mon cher. Sometimes my mouth runs away with me.”

  “I suppose the police will have questions for everyone who—shall we say—had issues with Divia.” Elise suggested in a mild tone. “Have they contacted you yet?”

  Monique blanched and began to sputter. “Me? Why on earth would they want to contact me? We aren’t even staying at that terrible little motel. I know nothing about her death. Other than what I’ve heard this morning, of course.”

  “How did you find out? About Divia’s death, I mean,” C.C. asked.

  The woman seemed to stumble for a moment before regaining her momentum. “Alain and I first heard it at the bakery in town. But again, the police have no reason to contact either of us. We had nothing to do with that woman.”

  “Well, no offense, but that’s not entirely true, is it? I mean, after the little scuffle between you two on Thursday, I would think they would at least want to interview you.” Elise exchanged looks with C.C. before continuing. “Of course, we would never say anything, but there were quite a few spectators that day who heard everything that was said. I should think it’s only a matter of time before the police hear about it as well.”

  The look on Alain Toussaint’s face was priceless when he turned to his wife. This was obviously the first he’d heard about the incident between the two women. “What is she talking about, Monique? What scuffle? What have you done now?”

  The Frenchwoman threw Elise a nasty glare before turning to her husband for some damage control. “It was nothing, cher. I simply wanted to have a word with her, and the woman acted in a most hideous way. She attacked me, and I merely defended myself. It was over in an instant,” she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis.

  “Really, Monique,” Alain said in dismay. “After we’d talked about this? I told you to stay away from Divia. It was finished.”

  Monique’s nonchalant façade cracked wide open then, and she seemed to forget for the moment that Elise and C.C. were avidly listening to the conversation. “Finished? Don’t be such a naïve fool! And we talked about nothing, Alain. You issued orders as if I were a wayward child.” The woman shook back her hair and poked her husband in the chest. “As if I was the one who’d strayed, instead of you. You say it was finished, but did you really think I would sit by and let that woman ruin everything?”

  Alain’s expression hardened and he leaned in close to his wife’s face. “I expected you to act with a small amount of dignity. But I can see that my expectations were perhaps too high. Now you may have involved us in a murder investigation.”

  With an oath, Alain turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving Elise and C.C. to deal with a fuming Monique.

  “Well, I hope you’re happy with the little scene you caused.”

  Elise gave the woman her most innocent look. “I’m so sorry, Monique. I truly didn’t mean to cause trouble between the two of you. I had no idea that you hadn’t told Alain about your run-in with Divia, or what the fight was abo
ut.”

  The woman took a deep breath and stared at Elise for a long moment as if trying to control her emotions before responding. Finally, she waved a hand in the air and shook her head. “Forget it. The whole incident has been blown out of proportion. This is the reason I said nothing to Alain about the horrible scene in the first place. He has a tendency to overreact, as you just witnessed.”

  “Men, huh?” C.C. gave the woman a congenial smile, then shook her head. “So dramatic. Besides, I’m sure you both have an alibi for Friday night, right? You and your husband were probably out to dinner or something, like everyone else. So you won’t have a thing to worry about when the police get around to questioning you about it.”

  C.C.’s comments were sheer genius, Elise,thought, and she wanted to laugh out loud. By the look of sheer panic that briefly crossed Monique’s face, Elise was pretty sure no alibi would be forthcoming anytime soon, which was an interesting development. If the Toussaints weren’t together on Friday night around the time of the murder, Monique would be scrambling to come up with something plausible. It also led to the question of where they each were during that crucial hour.

  But she had to hand it to Monique. The woman recovered quickly.

  “Yes, of course you are correct. Alain and I have nothing to worry about.” She sniffed before adding, “Well, I really should catch up to him, smooth his ruffled feathers. Otherwise, he will brood. You understand.”

  “Yes, yes I do,” C.C. said under her breath as they watched the Frenchwoman hurry away. Turning, she gave Elise a low five.

  “O-M-G! That was awesome!” Elise said with a grin when Monique was out of hearing range.

  C.C. returned the smile. “You bet. Scary French chick doesn’t like it so much when someone else is dishing it out.”

  “She sure doesn’t. Conniving wench.”

  C.C. batted her eyelashes and effected an awful French accent. “Oh, Ele-e-ze. Zees must be quite unsettling for you and your fam-i-ly. Oh, no, I did not mean to cause offense. Please. What a crock. She knew exactly what she was doing.”