Heard it Through the Grapevine (14 page)

When the police closed in on the guy with a receipt Colt had lifted from the body shop, even his denial hadn’t mattered. All the evidence Colt had relentlessly gathered was enough to convince a jury. How fitting he was now the police chief and the lawyer was rotting away in Huntsville serving out the life sentence he deserved.

“Can we get this over with, Colt? I’m gonna have to spend a lot of money on Roxy to make up for you guys trashing the place.”

Colt snapped back to reality when Jerry rose from the couch and headed for the office.

After sending Flanagan and Rogers back to the station, Colt followed Jerry and plopped down on the ugliest couch he’d ever seen.
Somehow, sitting where Lainey had been a short while ago made him smile.

Christ, she’d looked hot in that two-piece sweater set. The turquoise blue made her dark eyes jump out as she looked into his face and lied right through her teeth when he’d asked why she was meeting with Jerry. If Maddy knew it was Jerry who delivered the wine to Tessa, chances were pretty good Lainey did, too. The odds were even better that despite his warnings, she was still poking around in something that could get her shot.

“What’s on your mind, Colt? I’ve answered your questions twice
already.”

Colt reached for a notebook from his shirt pocket and pulled the
pen out from the metal rings. “Who called your house last night around midnight?”

Nothing like jumping right to the point.

As he expected, a look of sheer panic crossed Jerry’s face. “Wrong
number,” he snapped, his lips pursed.

“That’s not what Roxy said. Why’d you drag your sorry ass into
the living room to talk to a wrong number, Jer?” Colt flipped through
the notebook. “Talking for over two minutes to a stranger seems odd.”

Jerry’s color faded and he blew out a breath. “Okay, don’t mention this to Roxy, but I’m seeing someone on the side.”

Colt laughed out loud. “Since when did you quit chasing skirts and start hitting on Houston cowboys, Moretti?”

Jerry reached for the phone, his face somber. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“You might,” Colt responded. “Right now, we’re just having a conversation.”

“I suppose you already know who called?”

“I do.”

“Shit!”

Colt smiled again, thinking he’d love to get this man in a high-stakes poker game. “Why’d Quinton Porter need to talk to you so late?”

Jerry stared out the window for a few seconds before he turned back to meet Colt’s intense stare. “You know my wife, right, Colt?”

When Colt nodded, he continued. “A woman like that doesn’t come cheap, ya know?”

Again, Colt nodded.

“Porter promised me a lot of money if I could help him get the okay to set up his equipment in the far corner of the vineyard.” Moretti sniffed, shaking his head. “Hell, we don’t ever use that land anyway. Too rocky for vines.”

“So, you and Porter were in cahoots with Roxy?” Colt asked, fishing to see if Jerry knew about his wife’s extracurricular activities.

“Roxy? What the hell does she have to do with anything?”

Question asked and answered.

“Tessa hated Porter. She wouldn’t talk to him when he came by the office. She even complained to Rivera about him. Said he was harassing us.”

“David Rivera?” Colt shot up in his seat. “Why did she go to
him? What could he do?”

“He and Tessa met occasionally for a drink.” A smile formed on Jerry’s face as he apparently realized he knew something Colt didn’t. “You know everybody figured David would end up with Tessa instead of you.” When Colt didn’t respond, Moretti continued. “Apparently, she thought he could help her get rid of Porter, him being the city manager and all.”

“Did Carrie know?”

“Know what?”

“That her fiancé was meeting his old girlfriend on the side?”

Jerry leaned back in the chair, his hands clasped on the back of his head. “It only happened once or twice. Carrie was usually out of town.” Then he grabbed the edge of the desk to keep from tipping over.

This guy was the same doofus he’d been back in high school. All that money couldn’t buy him class. What had Tessa ever seen in him?

Colt grinned. Anyone who had spent five minutes with his ex- wife knew Tessa had loved the finer things in life. She could afford them with Jerry’s money. That’s what she’d seen in him.

“So, back to you and Porter. Did you talk to him today?” Colt knew the answer but watched for Moretti’s expression.

“He’s back in Houston by now. We’re gonna sit down with Lainey
and discuss his offer in a few weeks. Maybe by then, she’ll be ready to get out of Dodge and head back to her life, wherever the hell that is.” Jerry shook his head. “For the life of me, I can’t figure out why Tessa left her half of a business she loved to a sister she hadn’t talked to in years.”

Colt’s eyes perked up at the mention of Lainey. “You’re counting on Lainey leaving town soon?”

“Sooner or later, she’ll realize selling her half to me is the smart thing to do.”

“Did you want that badly enough to threaten her, Moretti?” Colt felt a sudden anger, remembering how scared Lainey had been the night she’d found the note. Remembering how vulnerable she’d felt, her trembling body pressed against his.

“Threaten her? Hell, Colt, she’s a barracuda, a carbon copy of
her sister. I learned the hard way with Tessa. Don’t screw with
women like that.” He chuckled. “I’m just gonna wait it out. It won’t take long for Vineyard to bore a big city girl to tears.”

Colt processed his comment. For some reason, he believed Jerry had nothing to do with the note. Call it gut.

“Speaking of your ex-wife, Moretti, did you put the cyanide in the bottle of wine you took to her house the night of the murder?”

fifteen

“That bitch!” Moretti’s hands
shook as he pointed toward Colt. “She’s lying, Colt. I’ll tell you exactly what I told her. I wasn’t anywhere near Tessa’s that night.”

Colt’s face flamed.
Damn her!

Lainey was poking around in the investigation behind his back again. It was past time he had another chat with his ex-sister-in-law. With Gracie sleeping over at Maddy’s house with Jessie, tonight would be the perfect time to confront Lainey. Knowing how much his daughter had responded to her newfound aunt’s attentions, more than likely, he would end up the bad guy in Gracie’s eyes if the conversation heated up.

And he was pretty sure it would.

He pushed Lainey from his mind, determined to crack Moretti.
“Nowhere near Tessa’s, huh, Jer?” He stared across the massive desk,
ready to nail him. “That’s funny. Your vintner explicitly remembers you coming in right before he left that day and asking him to tap one of the barrels so you could check it out. Said you were so excited after tasting it, you insisted he fill a bottle to take to Tessa’s.”

Jerry looked defeated. Finally, he leaned forward. “Okay, Colt, this is the truth for real now. I did take Tessa a bottle of the wine, but there’s no way the poison was in it. Paul and I both sampled the Viognier from the bottle before I hand-carried it to her.”

“Why’d you lie about it?”

“Hell, if Roxy found out I went over to Tessa’s, she’d kick my ass
. I wouldn’t get laid for a year.”

Colt contemplated this. His radar for reading people was pretty good, and unless Jerry was a master liar, he believed his story.

“Where were you between midnight and seven this morning?”

“With a wife who looks like Roxy, where the hell do you think I was?”

“And Roxy will verify this?”

“Of course she will. Where you going with this, Colt?”

“Porter’s dead.” Colt stared into Moretti’s eyes, hoping to catch his reaction.

“What?” Jerry’s face turned whiter than his laser-treated teeth. “How?”

“Someone shoved him into a nightstand. Did a number on his skull.”

A smidgeon of color returned to Jerry’s cheeks, and he leaned forward, eyes squinted. “And you think I might have had something to do with it?” He tsked, holding up his thumb and second finger. “Jesus, Colt, I was this close to doing business with the man and making a ton of money.”

“Can you think of anyone else who might not be so crazy about the guy?”

Jerry thought for a moment. “I barely knew …” He paused. “Wait a minute. I do remember him saying he had another deal in the works. Said that’s why he was making so many trips to Vineyard lately.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I have no idea. I assumed it had something to do with drilling for oil.”

Colt’s ringing cell phone jarred him from his intense study of Moretti’s face. He flipped up the receiver. “Winslow.”

“I think you’d better make a detour on your way back to the station, Colt,” he heard an excited Flanagan say. “We’ve got another body at the Conquistador.”

_____

The minute Colt exited Freeport Avenue and turned into the Conquistador lot, an uneasy feeling gripped him. Was this somehow connected to Porter?

He parked the cruiser. Walking to the entrance, he was mobbed by what looked like every guest in the hotel, all talking at once, all demanding answers. With the details of Porter’s death splashed across the news media, this latest murder had everyone in a state of panic.

The hotel manager spotted Colt as he came through the revolving doors, and scrambled over, bringing at least five TV crews with him.

“Sheriff Winslow, is there any connection between the man you
found in his hotel room this morning and the most recent victim?”
the hot chick from Channel Eight asked.

Another reporter shoved a mic in his face. “Sheriff, could this be the work of a serial killer?”

“Should the people of Vineyard take steps to protect them
selves?” The Channel Four guy nearly whacked a colleague on the head trying to get his mic closer.

Lakota shrugged. “They’re going crazy. Apparently, someone from
my staff alerted the TV stations right after I called you,” the manager said, clearly exasperated.

Colt waved off the reporters. “I’ll make a statement after I have a chance to see the body and check out the crime scene. I’d appreciate if y’all will step back and allow me and my men to do our jobs. You’ll know something when I know something.” He turned back to Lakota. “Where’s the body?”

The man looked ready to break into tears as terrified hotel guests swarmed, still demanding answers. “In the alley behind the dumpster. Your men just arrived and are out there now.” He pointed to an Employees Only door down the hall. “That’s the quickest way.”

The crowd slowly separated to allow Colt through when his narrowed eyes threatened consequences if they didn’t. He pushed through the doors that opened directly into the back alley. Lifting the yellow crime scene tape his men had used to cordon off the area, he stooped under it.

Danny Landers knelt beside the body and glanced up when Colt approached. “Looks like a single gunshot wound to the back of the head.” He pointed to the area.

Colt squatted for a better look. The victim was about five-ten and dressed in a dark blue suit. He certainly could have been any one of a number of business travelers who stayed near the airport every night on business. But what was left of the vic’s buzz cut caused a flash of recollection in Colt’s mind. He remembered seeing a man with a buzz cut sitting at the bar when he’d confronted Porter. With the man’s back to him, Colt hadn’t seen his face.

“Any I.D.?” Colt asked, noticing a scar slightly below a path of blood that had dried after streaking across his cheek. He glanced down the alley at the blood trail, now puddled in a pothole about ten yards from the body.

“We’ve got to stop meeting this way, Winslow. My wife’s getting suspicious,” Mark Lowell said as he arrived with two of his men. He bent down and made eye contact with Colt. “What the hell’s going on in Vineyard?”

After nodding to Mark, Colt rose and backed off to allow the CSIs access to the victim.

What the hell
was
going on in Vineyard? He turned to Landers and Romano. “Anybody see or hear anything?”

“No,” Landers said. “Maybe the perp used a silencer.”

Colt mulled that over, glancing up. The Conquistador was directl
y
in the path of ascending airplanes. “More likely, the noise up there would have covered up a gunshot.”

Just as he said it, he caught a glint of something in the sunlight, and he hustled over for a closer look. “Over here,” he shouted to the CSI assistant bagging the evidence. “Another one here.” He pointed to the two used shell casings near the fence surrounding the dumpsters.

“Looks like a nine millimeter,” the CSI commented as he picked it up with tweezers and deposited it into a clean forensics bag.

Colt rubbed his cheek. “That’s interesting.”

“Why’s that?” Mark’s young assistant asked.

“A nine mil is not the preferred weapon of gangs or run-of-the-mill shooters. It’s used primarily by homeowners for protection.” Colt inched closer to the body. “Can you guesstimate the time of death, Mark?”

The CSI chief glanced up. “I’d say around the same time span as the guy from this morning. Somewhere between midnight and seven. I’ll know more after the ME finishes.”

“Can you turn him over?” Colt asked.

The assistant bent down and helped the chief roll the body on its back.

Caught off guard, Colt was unable to stop the gasp that escaped.

“You recognize him, Colt?” Mark asked, as everyone turned to stare.

Colt tilted his head for a better look at the dead man’s face. It was him!

Dammit! Why didn’t I go after him?

He knew keeping Lainey safe had been the right move, but he’d missed a golden opportunity to question the guy. “He knocked on Lainey’s door last night right after she found the note. Said he was drunk and couldn’t find his room.”

“He may not have found his room, but he definitely found trouble.” Mark reached into the man’s back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open. “Kenny Thornton. Says here he’s from Waco.”

Colt was no longer paying attention to Lowell. He leaned closer and zeroed in on the multiple scratches on the man’s left cheek. He’d bet hard-earned cash he was staring at a perfect DNA match to the scrapings Mark had bagged that morning from under Porter’s fingernails.

_____

“I’m sorry. Do what you have to, but I need another week off, Dan.” Lainey parked her car in front of Colt’s guest house and climbed out, adjusting the hands-free headset. She smiled as Colt’s two “watchdogs” covered her with wet kisses that smelled like beef jerky.

“I don’t see how staying in Texas an extra week is going to help,” Dan argued. “We’re getting pounded with e-mails. Your adoring fan base wants to know when you’ll be back.”

“I’m sure Angie is holding down the fort,” Lainey replied, unable to stop the huge grin from spreading across her face. Angie Summers would probably take over her job one day, but Lainey was secretly overjoyed her true-blue fans would not take it lightly.

“She’s doing okay,” Dan said. “But that’s not the point. I’ve got my hands full trying to convince the producers to be patient.” He
paused before adding, “Especially since there’s a good chance you’re going to leave us anyway.”

There it was—finally out in the open. They’d been dancing around it the entire fifteen minutes since he’d called.

“Is that really what this is about, Dan?” She opened the trunk and lifted the bag of groceries she’d picked up at Kroger’s on her way home, noticing how beautiful the Texas sky was with the flaming orange sun beginning its descent directly beyond Colt’s rooftop. “Dan?”

“I’m here,” he said after a few seconds. “Damn it, I miss you, Lainey.”

She softened. Dan Maguire was one of the nicest guys she’d ever met. Why couldn’t she give him what he wanted? What held her back? “I know. I miss you, too.” It was only a half lie. The truth was she had totally forgotten to call him the last few days. A flash of guilt stabbed at her heart when she realized she had to tell him how she felt. He was too good a man as well as a friend to string him along.

“Dan, I—”

You brought the Viognier! Ohmygod, I can’t wait until you taste it.

Lainey whipped around, nearly dropping the phone nestled on her shoulder as she hobbled up the steps and into the kitchen.

And brie! Oh God, I wish I could eat
,
Tessa said. As excited as a teenager on her first date, she peeked into the grocery sack when Lainey placed it on the table.

“I have to go, Dan. I promise I’ll call tomorrow with an update.” She’d been on the verge of telling him about the note. Knowing how stubborn she was, he would have understood why she couldn’t leave Vineyard now. Still, he’d have insisted she come home now before she got hurt.

“I love you,” he said, his voice sad with regret.

“I know. Me too.” She did love Dan, just not the way he wanted her to. She disconnected and blew out an audible breath.

Was that the guy you’ve been sleeping with?

Lainey shot Tessa a look. “How do you know about Dan?”

She shrugged.
Just guessing.
She turned away.
You might not want to burn your bridges with a guy like that, Lainey. There aren’t too many good ones left.

“Isn’t that the sad truth?” Lainey said, speaking more to Tessa’s first comment. Maybe she shouldn’t ruin what she and Dan had until she was absolutely sure she couldn’t learn to love him the way he wanted her to.

Hey, where’d you get the Viognier?

“I stopped by the winery and talked to your vintner after I left Jerry’s office.”

Did he tell you Jerry picked up a bottle of wine for me that night?

“Yes, but he said both he and Jerry sampled the wine from your bottle. It couldn’t have been laced with poison.”

Shit! Back to square one again.

“Not necessarily. What if Jerry added the cyanide after he left Paul?”

Tessa rubbed her chin.
Hmm. I never thought about that. Does
Colt know?

“Oh yeah,” Lainey said, shaking her head. “He walked in on my meeting with Jerry while we were discussing it. I have a feeling I’m gonna get another lecture when he gets home.”

Tessa smiled.
I always thought Colt was the most adorable when he was pissed about something. His blue eyes get all steamy and his eyebrow goes up like this.
She hitched her left brow up in a comical grimace, exactly the way Colt did.

Lainey laughed out loud. “You have it down pat. I’m probably going to see that tonight, and thanks to you, it will be hard to keep a straight face.”

She pulled the cork from the bottle and poured the Viognier, then raised the plastic cup in a mock toast to Tessa before she took her first sip. “Oh, my! This is fantastic, Tessa.”

Told you
.
Despite trying to look only casually interested, Tessa’s eyes said otherwise. This wine was her baby.

“What did Paul do different to get it this smooth?”

Tessa frowned.
If you’re going to run the winery, Lainey, it’s time for a little education.
She moved closer.
Every type of wine comes from a different grape. Chardonnay, merlot, pinot, they all have their own grape.

Lainey took another sip. “You definitely hit onto something special when you grew this one.”

You can’t grow Viognier grapes in Texas, my not-so-smart sister. It’s too freakin’ hot. We imported them from a small vineyard in northern California. That was one of the knock-down, drag-outs between Jerry and me. He wanted things to stay as they were.