Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery)

Copyright Information

Of Merlot and Murder
© 2014
Joni Folger

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Midnight Ink, except in the form of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

As the purchaser of this ebook, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. The text may not be otherwise reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, or recorded on any other storage device in any form or by any means.

Any unauthorized usage of the text without express written permission of the publisher is a violation of the author’s copyright and is illegal and punishable by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First e-book edition © 2014

E-book ISBN:
978-0-7387-4093-5

Book design by Donna Burch-Brown

Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

Cover illustration by
Ken Joudrey

Midnight Ink is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

Midnight Ink does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business arrangements between our authors and the public.

Any Internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific reference will continue or be maintained. Please refer to the publisher’s website for links to current author websites.

Midnight Ink

Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

2143 Wooddale Drive

Woodbury, MN 55125

www.midnightink.com

Manufactured in the United States of America

dedication

This story is dedicated to my cohorts in crime—you know who you are—and to BFFs everywhere. We all have them—those special friends who’ll have a glass of wine with you during good times and wade right into the melee beside you in bad times.Here’s a toast to you all. Party on . . .

acknowledgments

There are several folks to thank, so please bear with me. To family, friends, and the above-mentioned BFFs, thanks for providing support at every turn. I’m very thankful, and I love you all.

To my beta-readers: Recca Maze and Robin Pearsall, thanks for your patience and encouragement. You’re the best. To long-time buddy and BFF Natalie Bellissimo: words cannot convey how grateful I am for your presence in my life, your eagle eyes, and your level-headed suggestions. Love ya, my friend!

And finally to Liz Lipperman, my fabulous critique partner and valued friend: you keep me honest, are always there to listen, and are a continuous source of support—no matter what I write. I’m so proud to call you friend.

one

She was going to
be late—
again
. Elise Beckett worked her bottom lip between her teeth as she flew down Highway 71 in her little red sports car. How did this always happen to her? Time and again—no matter how hard she tried—she usually ended up late for something.

She’d lost track of time in Austin this afternoon, dazzled by the most fabulous designer-brand shoe sale. Her grandmother would have her hide if she was tardy for yet another Sunday family dinner.

Unfortunately, this time around Abigail DeVries, her maternal grandmother, wouldn’t be the only one on Elise’s case if she arrived at the family vineyard too late. Today’s dinner was more than the usual Sunday family gathering. It was her Gram’s seventy-third birthday, and the rest of her family would eat her alive if she was late for
that
—especially since Elise was bringing the family’s gift with her. This birthday gift was special and had been Elise’s main reason for going into Austin in the first place.

Just west of Bastrop, she flipped on her blinker and turned north onto FM969, the Farm-to-Market road that would take her home to River Bend Winery and Vineyard. The vineyard had been in her family for several generations and as she got closer she could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to drain away.

The weather over the last couple of months had been unseasonably hot, with July being especially nasty, but they’d managed to escape the horrors of last year’s fire season, which had been one of the worst in memory. The Bastrop State Park fire had destroyed over fourteen thousand acres and three hundred homes before firefighters managed to shut the beast down.

That tragic event had hit very close to home. Too close.

They’d been lucky that the vineyard lay on the west bank of the Colorado River and the wind was blowing to the south. Still, it had been a terrible thing to witness.

Now, in late October, the slate gray of the overcast sky added a stark element to the landscape. The live oaks and blackjack oaks had dropped their leaves weeks ago, and the deep evergreen of pine and cedar stood out in harsh relief against their skeletal trunks.

Even this late in the year, they’d enjoyed a stretch of sixty- to seventy-degree weather over the past weeks. Perhaps they’d be in for a mild winter, which would make the dry season just that much dicier come summer when the temperatures once again soared into triple digits.

Elise smiled as she rounded the next bend in the road and acres of grape rows with their bare vines came into view.

Regardless of the weather, the vineyard always had a way of lifting her spirits, but moreover, it stirred something deep inside her. Like her father before her, Elise had an immense love and respect for the fertile land that stretched along this part of the Colorado River. Those emotions had been passed down to her through generations.

Tradition.

With her master’s degree in the field of horticulture, Elise was in charge of producing hybrids, as well as coming up with other innovations that would hopefully keep River Bend highly competitive for years to come. Though she no longer lived on the property—choosing instead to live fifteen minutes away in downtown Delphine—River Bend would always be home.

When her cell phone rang, she scrambled to dig it out of her purse with her free hand.
What a surprise
she thought as she read her brother’s name on the screen.

Ross was two years older and lived in a cottage on the vineyard with his wife, Caroline, and two young sons, Ethan and Caleb. At thirty-one, Ross was the financial manager for the property. He was also a pain in the neck with his constant bitching about her perpetual state of tardiness. This was no doubt his
where-the-hell-are-you
phone call.

“Hey, Ross,” she said, putting the phone to her ear. “What’s up?”

“
What’s up
? Are you joking? Where in hell are you, El? We’re about to sit down to dinner.”

She had to stifle a giggle at how right on the money her thoughts had been. “Cool your jets, big brother. I’m on 969 and almost home.”

“Geez, of all days to be late.”

“Oh, for the love of mud, it’s not going to ruin Gram’s birthday if I’m five minutes late to dinner, so take a breath.” She loved Ross dearly, but sometimes he and his almost manic punctuality could work every last nerve she had.

“Did you get it?”

“Of course I got it. Don’t be a dork. Gram’s present is right here on the seat next to me.”

“How does it look?”

Elise could hear the excitement in his voice and couldn’t help her own smile from spreading, but that didn’t stop her from needling him a bit. “I guess you’re going to have to wait and see, aren’t you?”

“
Elise
.”

He whined her name so pitifully that she laughed out loud. “Okay. I will say that it looks awesome. Maddy’s suggestion of a framed generational photograph was inspired.”

Their younger sister, Madison, lived on the property as well, sharing the main residence with their mother, Laura, and grandmother, Abigail—Miss Abby to most who knew her. Maddy was the driving force behind Lodge Merlot, the vineyard’s event venue, and always had the most creative ideas.

“Anyway, you’re going to have to stall another ten minutes.”

“
Stall
? How am I supposed to do that? We’re all about to head for the dining room.”

“Oh, please. Pull out one of your spreadsheets,” she suggested. “I’ve heard you drone on for hours over one of those boring things. Ten minutes ought to be a snap.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

“Seriously, dude. You’re down to eight minutes, better get on it. You know I don’t like to talk on the phone when I’m driving, especially when I don’t have my headset with me, so I’m hanging up. See you in a few.” She hung up before he could start in again—which he definitely would have if given half a chance.

Only a few moments later she was turning through the gates at River Bend and winding her way past The Wine Barrel, the vineyard’s retail outlet. Here her gram ruled the roost, running the store smoothly with precision and charming customers with personality and wit.

As she rounded the bend, she smiled as she passed Lodge Merlot. Her sister had organized the most spectacular wedding and reception for the mayor’s daughter there at the end of August. That event had added a nice chunk of green to the vineyard’s bottom line and paved the way for several more reservations. Things were starting to look up after a pretty rough summer.

Yes, tradition ran deep at River Bend—as did emotions.

Elise’s father inherited the vineyard when his father passed, even though her uncle Edmond had been the older of the two sons. And Edmond had been bypassed in her grandfather’s will altogether.

This had caused hard feelings between her uncle and the rest of the family and sparked a small feud. The touchy situation only escalated when her father died two years ago and left the whole shebang to her mother in
his
will.

Edmond had been furious about that, making terrible threats and accusations. He’d even resorted to browbeating her mother in an effort to get his hands on at least a portion of the vineyard.

Elise shook her head at the thought. For all his posturing, everyone knew he’d had no use for the property other than to sell it to feed his gambling and other habits of debauchery. Sadly, through his antics, poor Uncle Edmond had succeeded in alienating every bit of family he’d had left.

The little sports car kicked up a small cloud of dust as Elise pulled into a spot next to the police cruiser parked out front. Climbing out and shaking away depressing thoughts, she looked toward the porch where Deputy Jackson Landry sprawled in one of the wicker chairs with his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Jackson was Ross’s best friend and had practically grown up on the vineyard with them. He’d also been the lead investigator on her uncle’s homicide case during the summer. Poor Jax had been forced to walk a very fine line during those tense few weeks. Elise thought he’d done an amazing job of working a thorough investigation, yet protecting the family at the same time, though she was certain he would have said that he was just doing his job.

“Good afternoon, Officer.” Leaning on the open car door, she tilted her head and gave him a considering look. “You expecting trouble?”

She watched as Jackson unfolded himself from the chair and strolled over to the top of the porch steps. “Yes, ma’am. And looks like it just arrived, late as usual.”

My-oh-my but the man is a sweet piece of eye candy.

Elise spent a moment admiring the way he filled out his uniform as he started down the steps toward her. She’d had a thing for Jackson Landry as long as she could remember, but their timing had never been any good. When she’d been free to date whom she pleased, he’d been in a relationship, and vice versa. As it turned out, the feeling was mutual, which was handy now that they were both unattached. It seemed she and Jackson had finally found their stride.

Turning, she leaned into the car to retrieve her gram’s gift and her shopping bags. When she straightened, he was right behind her.

Checking out the gift and her purchases, he raised an eyebrow. “Did some shopping, did we? I figure the wrapped frame is for Miss Abby. What’s in the bags?”

“Shoes,” she said with a grin. “I found the most incredible sale.”

“More shoes? Geez, El, you already have enough shoes to fill a warehouse. What do you need more for? If memory serves, you only have two feet. You can only wear one pair at a time, right?”

“Oh, sweetie,” she began with a shake of her head. “It’s not a question of
needing
. I swear, Jax, we practically grew up together, but sometimes it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Glancing over to the other side of his cruiser, she noticed her friend C.C. Duncan’s car. C.C. was taking several days off from her day job at the Extension office to help them with the details for this year’s Lost Pines Food and Wine Festival. “Anyway, I thought I’d bring them in and watch Maddy and C.C. weep with jealousy.”

“Uh-huh. And then you can take them home so Chunk can swipe ’em and hide ’em from you.”

The mention of her sixteen-pound Snowshoe Siamese with his unexplainable shoe fetish had her narrowing her eyes. “Oh no. That little twerp so much as drools anywhere near these shoes and he’s dead meat. Besides, he won’t have the opportunity. I intend to keep them in their boxes. And after wearing them each time, they’ll go right back into said boxes.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Jackson replied, mimicking her. “And you think that will stop him?” He shook his head sadly. “El. You’ve had him for what? Almost a decade? It’s like you don’t even know him.”

“Very funny.” Biting the inside of her cheek, she struggled not to smile at his clever imitation. Shoving the wrapped frame at him, she realized he was staring at her head. “And what are you looking at?” she asked, running her free hand over her new layered cut. “Do I have something in my hair?”

“No, but what did you do to it?”

“What do you mean? I got it cut yesterday. Why?”

When he just stared at her with an annoyed look on his face, she shrugged. “What?”

“I realize that it’s shorter, darlin’,” he said and gave her shoulder-length tresses a quick tug. “What I
mean
is what are those streaky things you’ve added?”

With a hand on her hip, she flipped her recently highlighted summer-blonde hair and gave him a bland look. “They’re called
highlights
, Jackson. And what’s with the sudden obsession with my hair?”

He slid his free arm around her and snatched her up close in one smooth move. His bright-green eyes twinkled with mischief as he grinned down at her. “Who says your hair is all I’m obsessed with?”

The next moment he was kissing her senseless. And boy-oh-boy, this deputy could kiss, she thought as she melted against him.

When he finally let her breathe, he touched his forehead to hers. “I gotta tell you, I’ve been waiting for that all damn day.”

“Some things are just worth the wait, I guess,” she said in a voice gone breathless.

“And by the way, I like your
highlights
,” he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Elise would have pulled him in for another taste, but Ross’s shout interrupted the beginnings of a fine moment.

“Are you
kidding
me with this?” He yelled from the open front door. “We’re in here waiting on you and you’re playing kissy-face out in the front yard? Get your butts in here. You can do that crap on your own time.”

“Good Lord, he’s so romantic.” Elise heaved a sigh. “My sister-in-law is such a lucky girl.”

Jackson chuckled. “Guess we better go in before he has an aneurism.”

They started up the steps, and when they reached the porch Ross eyeballed the shopping bags she carried. “What’s in the bags?”

“Shoes,” Jackson replied, which she felt earned him a dirty look for his indiscretion.

“
Shoes
?” Ross sputtered. “You went
shopping
? That’s why you’re late for Gram’s birthday dinner?”

“Stuff it, Ross,” she told him as she shoved past him into the house. Honestly, men just did not get the importance of a good shoe sale.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she started down the hall. “Jax, would you put Gram’s gift with the others in the living room, please?”

“Will do, darlin’,” Jackson said before turning to Ross with a stone-serious face. “Shoes, bro. There was an incredible sale.”

“I heard that, Jackson,” she said as she swung into the dining room.

“There you are, baby girl!” Abigail said, coming in from the kitchen carrying a bowl of piping hot string beans. “I was beginning to worry.”

“You were beginning to
worry
?” Ross followed Elise into the room with an incredulous expression on his face. “Geez, Gram, that’s all she gets when she’s late to your birthday dinner? If it was me, I’d be catching all kinds of hell.”

Elise turned and gave him a sorrowful look. “That’s because Gram has never really liked you. I know it’s hard to hear, but Maddy and I have always been her favorites.” She followed the statement up with a flutter of her eyelashes.