Grapes of Death (12 page)

Stuart chuckled and shook his head. “No offense taken, ma'am. I actually agree with you. Hopefully, that little problem will be solved with the move and the new position.”

Elise froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.

Oh no, he did not just do what I asked him not to do!

“You're moving, Stuart?” Laura asked, obviously confused by his statement. “I thought your new position with the foundation was still located in the Dallas area.”

Crap!

“Uh, no. That is to say, it is.” He glanced over at Elise with an apologetic look. “
I'm
not moving.”

“So that must mean you are, little sister,” Ross said from the doorway.

There was a gasp from Madison, and Laura set down her fork with a clatter. She placed her elbows on the table and folded her hands together, looking to Elise expectantly. “Elise Brianna, is there something you haven't told us?”

Elise cleared her throat and threw a hostile look at Stuart before meeting her mother's gaze. “Stuart has offered me a position at the new research facility, but nothing has been decided yet.”

Ross slid into the seat beside her. “Sounded like it's a done deal to me.”

Stuart leaned in to look around her at Ross. “No, let me be clear about that right now. What you heard was just wishful thinking on my part. I've been nagging her about a decision, but she's continued to put me off until she had a chance to talk it over with y'all.” He turned to her. “Sorry, darling. It just slipped out.”

She ignored him and spoke to her mother. “Mom, I would never make that kind of decision without discussing it with the family first. You know that, right?”

“And when did Stuart make this fabulous offer?” Ross asked, disregarding the way Stuart had tried to come to her rescue.

“You're not helping,” she muttered under her breath.

“Not trying to,” he replied out loud. “Sorry, Stuart, but I think this is a crappy idea. Especially now. Your timing couldn't be worse.”

Glaring at him, Elise directed her comments to her mother. “Stuart only made the offer last weekend. I've been meaning to talk to y'all about it, but with everything that's happened this week, There hasn't been a good time.”

“Did you know about this?” Ross suddenly asked, pointing at Jackson.

“What?” Jackson eyebrows snapped together, and he sat up straighter in his chair. “Why the hell would I know about this if she hasn't said anything to the rest of the family?”

“Oh, come on. Why do you think?” Ross smirked at him across the table.

“What's that supposed to mean? She's just as tight-lipped with me as she is with anyone else.”

“
She's
sitting right here! Geez, it makes me so crazy when you two talk around me like that.”

“Children, that's enough,” Laura said in an attempt to stem the outbursts.

Elise huffed out a frustrated breath. “Look, I didn't tell anyone, okay?”

Turning to Ross, she gave him a flick on the side of his head. “I wasn't keeping it from you, and there was no hidden agenda. With Uncle Edmond's death—and then it suddenly becoming a murder investigation—I just wanted to wait until things calmed down a little before throwing something else onto the pile. That's all.”

“Yeah, well, the cat's out of the bag now, huh?” Ross pointed out with a snicker. “And don't flick me.”

“Act like a normal human being and I won't,” she replied, trying to keep from grinning back at him.

But the amusement pushing to get out died a quick death when she looked up and met Jackson's gaze. There she saw not only disappointment, but something else she couldn't quite get a handle on. For some reason, it made her feel as if she'd hurt his feelings.

Before Elise had a chance to think it through, he looked away. Pushing back his chair, he got to his feet and directed his remarks to Abigail. “As riveting as this conversation is, I'm afraid I have to head out.”

“What? You're not going to stay for dessert?” her grandmother asked, clearly let down. “But I made peach pie.”

“Mmm, you know that's my favorite, but I've got a ton of work to get done before tomorrow.” He circled around to give Abigail a loud smooch on the cheek. “Next time. Promise.”

The woman gave a resigned sigh and waved a hand in the air. “Well, at least let me put some in a container for you. There are compartments or saddle bags or some such thing on that monstrosity you ride, aren't there?”

“Yes, ma'am. And I would be much obliged if you'd make me up a to-go bag with a ginormous piece of your fine pie.”

Elise watched Jackson follow her grandmother from the dining room with a sudden sense of melancholy. He'd made the excuse of work, but she got the distinct impression that
she
was the reason for his hasty departure, though she wasn't quite sure why. Of course, that could just be her ego projecting.

“Elise, we'll discuss this new development tomorrow morning in my office,” Laura stated, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Ten o'clock sharp.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll be there.”

Right after I beat the living crap out of my boyfriend.

Thirteen

Jackson had no real
reason to leave before dinner was over, but the news of Elise's job offer—and impending move it required—had hit him hard. Harder than he wanted to admit.

He told himself it was brotherly concern that had him so twisted up about it, but he knew that wasn't entirely true. Yes, he had some strong feelings for Elise Beckett, but none of them were very brotherly.

So, he'd gone home and spent the rest of the evening brooding over a couple of beers and then trying to console himself before bed with Miss Abby's scrumptious peach pie.

Neither helped much.

Fortunately, he had a murder investigation to take his mind off things, and after a night of tossing and turning, he jumped right into it on Monday morning. There was a full list of interviews to conduct, which would leave little time for obsessing over Elise's future plans.

Though Darrell Yancy had tried to weasel his way into the investigation, Jackson had blocked the other deputy's efforts, choosing Jim Stockton to assist him with the interviews instead.

Jim was sharp, quiet, and observant. He was a good judge of character and would be an asset in an interrogation, unlike hotheaded Yancy. The deputy was also twice Darrell's size, which would be helpful should they run into trouble once they got out to El Diablo later in the afternoon.

However, their first stop would be Kohler Winery. It was on the way and would probably be an easier, less hostile meeting.

There were several cars in the winery's parking area when he and Jim pulled up. It was tourist season, and with the weather they'd been having, vineyard hopping had become almost a sport, even at mid-morning.

However, one of the cars in the lot piqued his interest far more than the others. He parked the cruiser next to a little red sports car, pretty sure it belonged to a certain Nosey Nancy from River Bend.

What the heck is she up to now?
Obviously, he needed to have yet another stern talk with Elise about steering clear of his investigation.

They were met at Kohler's
front door by Henry's grandson Paul, who seemed unsurprised to see them.

“Gramps is in the living room with Ms. Beckett. Come on in,” he said and led them down the hall. “Hey, Gramps, these deputies are here to see you. I gotta get going, so I'll see you later.”

“All right. Drive careful.”

Henry watched his grandson leave. When he heard the front door close, he turned to Jackson with a shake of his head. “Kids these days. Always on the go.”

“I hear that,” Jim replied.

Jackson cast a narrowed glance in Elise's direction. “Looks like you're having all sorts of company today, Henry.”

“Don't get your panties in a wad, Jackson. I just stopped by to return a couple books that I borrowed from Henry last month,” Elise replied defensively.

“Books. Uh-huh.” When she huffed out a breath, he shook his head and gave her a doubtful look. “I think we're gonna need to revisit a few ground rules, but that'll wait.”

“What brings you out our way, Jackson?” Henry asked in an attempt to defuse the tension suddenly filling the air. “Does this have something to do with Edmond's drowning?”

“Well, yes and no, Henry.” Jackson sat down in the chair across from the man and took out his notepad. “I received the medical examiner's report on Friday afternoon. Edmond didn't drown. He died of blunt force trauma, which would be the reason for our visit. His death is now a murder inquiry, but I'm betting Elise has already filled you in on that.” Jackson tilted his head and shot her a look, at which she just rolled her eyes.

“Yes, she did mention that,” Henry said. “Terrible news, just awful. And there's no chance he simply fell and hit his head before going into the river?”

“No,”
Jackson answered. “There's no way it was an accident. Anyway, I do have some questions that I need you to clear up for me, if you will.”

The older man nodded vigorously. “Of course, anything I can do to help.”

“Did Elise also happen to mention that we ran across Kohler Winery paystubs in Edmond's name? Can you explain that to me?”

Henry looked back and forth between them, and confusion was plain on his face. “As I told Elise, there's really nothing to explain. Edmond had been working for me for several months. I thought his family was aware of that.”

Elise shook her head. “No, we had no idea Uncle Edmond was working here.”

“Why
was
Edmond working for you?” Jim asked. “And what did he do for you?”

“He did odd jobs,” Henry answered vaguely.

“Odd jobs?” Jim prompted. “What kind of odd jobs?”

“Oh, this and that, anything extra I wanted done. He didn't have specific job duties.” The vintner shrugged. “He needed a job. I tried to help out an old friend. Is that a crime, deputy?”

Jackson shook his head at the older man's defensive attitude and decided to cut to the chase. “No, it's not, Henry, but corporate espionage is.”

“What? You think Edmond was spying for me?” the vintner asked in a wary tone, before scoffing at the notion. “That's just foolishness. Who would he be spying on? River Bend? And for what?”

“That's just what I'm trying to figure out. Stranger things have happened. Surely you were aware that Edmond had been on the outs with his family. He'd tried to get Mrs. Beckett to give him a large portion of River Bend, and she'd refused. Maybe he was of a mind to get even.”

Jackson had played poker with Kohler on several occasions, and the man couldn't bluff for shit. He watched closely now as Henry blinked then looked away.

“I don't know anything about that,” he finally said.

You lying old goat.

It was clear they weren't going to get anything else from the man just yet, but it was early in the investigation. Jackson had no doubt they would be back to Kohler Winery eventually with more questions. In the meantime, he'd let the old buzzard stew over the fact that they'd been here and were looking in his direction.

“Well, if you think of anything else that might be pertinent, give me a call. Thanks for your time.” As he stood, he glanced at Elise and nodded. “And I'll be seeing you very soon for that little chat.”

Henry saw them to the door, and as they climbed into the cruiser the quietly observant Jim said in a mild tone, “Kohler knows a whole lot more than he's saying, and he's lying through his teeth about it.”

“I'll say. In the first place, he and Edmond were never friends. They barely tolerated each other most of the time.”

Jim snorted. “Not foolin' anyone.”

“No, but that's okay. We'll be back,” Jackson replied as he turned the cruiser back toward town. “Let's grab some lunch and then go see what Denny Rodriguez has to say.”

“Yeah, that ought to be fun.”

They decided on a quick lunch of Chinese at Peking Palace before heading out Highway 20. El Diablo was quiet when they pulled up, the parking lot close to empty. Of course, it was early yet; other than a few regulars, most customers probably wouldn't show up until late afternoon or early evening.

As they stepped from the bright sunlight into the dimness of the bar, Jackson detected the faintest scent of cannabis in the air. He and Jim exchanged glances and headed toward the back booth where Denny Rodriguez sat eating lunch.

They hadn't gotten but ten feet into the room before an enormous Hispanic male with a shaved head and what looked to be a very bad attitude stepped into their path.

“You're gonna want to move out of our way, son.” Looking around the big, bald bouncer, Jackson raised his eyebrows at Rodriguez. “You know, Denny, we can do this here in your office, or we can take it into town to mine. Your choice. You have about ten seconds to make up your mind,
or I'll make it up for you.”

Baldie looked over his shoulder and got the signal from his employer to back off. He joined his buddy at the bar, but not before giving both deputies a look of disdain as he went.

Jackson slid into the booth opposite Rodriguez, and Jim pulled up a chair at the end of the table.

“So, what can I do for Bastrop County's finest?” Denny Rodriguez leaned back in the booth like he didn't have a care in the world and wiped his lips with a napkin.

“I have a few questions for you regarding Edmond Beckett.”

Rodriguez's shoulders moved slightly. “Eddy? What about him? He was a good customer. Damn shame.”

“When was the last time you saw him, Denny?” Jim asked.

“Maybe two weeks ago. Why?”

Jackson folded his arms on the table and leaned in. “I have it on good authority that he owed you quite a bit of money.” He slid his gaze to the other deputy. “You know, gambling is a terrible addiction, isn't it, Deputy Stockton?”

“It is—a terrible addiction, indeed.”

A crafty smile stole across Rodriguez's face. “Now, Deputy, maybe I
loaned
the guy some money, but we both know the kind of gambling you're talkin' about is illegal in our fine county.”

“True, but I'm more worried about murder than gambling.”

“Murder? What murder?” A sober look crossed Rodriguez's face and he sat up straight. “I heard Eddy drowned.”

“You heard wrong. Someone cracked open his skull.”

Rodriguez shook his head. “I don't know nothin' about no murder, man.”

“Right. But the journal I found at Edmond's place said he owed you big—like close to ten grand big—and that you'd made threats. Did you maybe send a couple of your boys around to give him a nudge? Maybe that nudge turned into something more?”

“Noooo.” Rodriguez drew the word out for emphasis. “Huh-uh. No way. Rafe and a couple of the guys went out to
talk
to him, that's all. Look, maybe sometimes Eddy was late with a payment, but he usually came through. Besides, I don't know where you got ten large; he only owed me four plus change. And the last time he was in here, he paid his bill.”

Jackson sat back and studied the man for a moment. “He paid you in full?”

“Yeah, man. That's what I'm telling you. I had no need to put the hurt on Eddy. Like I said, he was a good customer. That night he told me his ship was about to dock and it was carrying a belly-full of
dineros
.”

“He was expecting a payoff? From who?”

“I don't know.” The man shook his head and there was concern in his dark gaze. “He shut down when I asked, told me to forget he'd said anything. Got real jumpy, actually.”

“But he didn't owe you anything after that night?” Jim asked.

The cunning smile was back. “Now, I didn't say that, did I? He paid his
tab,
all right … and then spent the rest of the night jackin' it back up. If he was about to hit a payday and wanted to spend some of it at my establishment in advance … well, I don't judge, man.”

Rodriguez chuckled then and pointed a finger in Jackson's direction. “That
loco
bitch he was hangin' with like to went off the rails when she heard that, I can tell you. Maybe you should talk to her.”

Jackson and Jim exchanged another glance. “And when did Pam find this out?”

The bar owner made a pained face. “She was in here the night after he was—checkin' up on him.”

“Was she alone?” Jim asked.

“Dude, have you
seen
her?” Rodriguez gave an exaggerated shudder. “What dude's gonna get with that but Eddy? Say, are we about done? I don't need my customers comin' in here and catching me all cozied up to cops. Bad for my image. I got a rep to uphold, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson nodded. “One more question, Denny. Where were you last Monday night?”

Rodriguez stretched and leaned in. “Where I always am on Monday nights, man—sitting right here. You can ask anyone.”

Jackson mirrored Rodriguez's body language from his side of the table and got right into the man's face. “We're gonna go now, Denny. But if you're lying to me about any of this, we'll be back—and it won't be near as much fun then as it has been today. You get me?”

Rodriguez swallowed hard. “Sure, man. I get you. I'm telling you like it was—I got no reason to lie.”

Jackson slipped on his sunglasses as he and Jim headed back out into the bright sunshine.

“You buying all that?” Jim asked when they climbed into the cruiser.

“Yeah, unfortunately I am. At least, for the most part.”

“Me too. Okay, so it would be a simple thing for Rodriguez to send a couple of his goons out to do Edmond. It would leave him with a perfect alibi. But if Edmond had already paid his previous bill, even if he had just jacked his tab back up, there'd be no need.”

“Right. Here's another thing that's bothering me—Edmond wheedles close to ten grand out of Pam, supposedly to pay off Denny, but he only owes four and change. Where's the rest of the money? And where was the additional payoff coming from that Edmond told Denny about?”