Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery) (10 page)

“I don’t think anything yet, Grace. Like I said, we’re just putting together a timeline,” Jackson said. He pulled out his notepad, and the look he gave her was direct. “Why don’t you just tell us what happened and let us determine if it’s connected or not.”

Grace leaned on the table and put her face in her hands for a moment, before looking up and dropping a bombshell in their laps. “Twenty-two years ago, Divia Larson was married to my father. She was my ex-stepmother.”

ten

Jim Stockton paused with
his sandwich halfway to his mouth, and then slowly lowered it back to the paper plate. “I beg your pardon. Did you say Divia Larson was your
stepmother
, Grace?”

“
Ex
-stepmother. And it was a very long time ago.”

“What happened? Judging by your tone, I take it you didn’t keep
in touch with her,” he said.

She gave a snort and shook her head. “No. I had no idea she and Toby were even in Texas.”

Jackson watched a flood of emotions flow across Grace Vanderhouse’s face before she quickly recovered and pretended disinterest. It wasn’t lost on him that she’d ignored the first part of Jim’s question, but they’d get to that later. Right now, he was more interested in her meeting yesterday with Divia.

“Grace, how did you two hook up here at the festival?” he asked. “Did you initiate yesterday’s meeting or did she?”

“She did.” Grace looked out over the paddocks beyond the fence as if thinking back on the meeting. “She came by the booth yesterday afternoon. I could tell the minute I saw her that she’d figured out who I was. I tried to ignore her, pretend like I didn’t know her, but she just waited me out. Divia was good at that.”

“So she must have seen you at some point earlier,” Jim said. “And recognized you?”

Grace laughed out loud and shot an amused look at the deputy. “Oh, good Lord, no! My dad and I ceased to exist for Divia twenty-
two years ago—when she cleaned out the bank accounts, took Toby,
and disappeared into the night. I don’t know how she knew where to
find
me, or that I was even here, but if I had to guess I’d say it was prob
ably Toby who told her.”

“Toby?” Jackson frowned. “Had you seen him or talked to him?”

Grace blew out a breath. “I don’t know how he found me either—I certainly wouldn’t have recognized him. He was ten years old the last time I saw him. Anyway, he cornered me on the midway yesterday about midafternoon.”

Jackson exchanged looks with Jim. He knew exactly how Toby knew Grace was here at the festival—had been there when he’d found out. He’d known at the time something was up, though he didn’t know what. Looking back, Toby’s reaction to Grace’s name made perfect sense now.

“But until yesterday you had no contact with either of them?” Jackson asked.

“No. None,” she replied with a stony look. “I know my dad looked for them for quite awhile after they left, but he never found out where they’d gone. And like I said, I had no idea they were here until I saw her on Thursday.”

“Wait. Thursday?” Jim looked perplexed. “You just said that you’d had no contact with her before yesterday?”

“I hadn’t,” Grace said with a quick shake of her head. “I was at River Bend’s booth on Thursday morning talking to C.C. and Elise just before the Larsons arrived. When I listened to the girls talking about her I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same woman. Then here she came, prancing her way up the midway like the queen of the world. She looked almost exactly as I remembered her—just older.”

“But you didn’t talk to her or make contact at that point?” Jackson asked.

“No. I got out of there before they made it to the booth. I was afraid of what I’d do or say.” Grace closed her eyes and paused. She obviously needed a moment to collect herself. When she reopened them and continued, she didn’t even try to hide her resentment.

“You have to understand, Deputy. My father loved that woman and was willing to raise Toby as his own. Hell, I was just a child, but I loved them both, too. When she took every penny we had and ran away without a word
…
well, it was hard on both of us, but it nearly killed my father. Oh, he tried to give me everything I needed, but he was never the same after that.”

“Sounds like you grew up pretty angry,” Jim said quietly.

Grace’s head snapped in his direction. “Angry? You bet! Have you ever had to watch the self-destruction of a loved one, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop it?” Rage flared in her eyes. “Now, think about that from a child’s point of view. I was six years old when she pulled her disappearing act. I watched my father
pine
for that woman until the day he died. She stole from him, broke his heart, and left him—left us both—without a word. Yet, even then he continued to love her until he took his last breath.”

She shook her head and made an obvious effort to rein in her emotions where Divia Larson was concerned. “So yes, Deputy, it would be fair to say I grew up furious at Divia. Her actions killed my father just as surely as if she’d put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.”

“But after all those years, did you have enough pent-up rage to retaliate?” Jim asked. “To do her harm?”

Grace scrubbed her hands over her face and sighed. When she finally looked up, her temper had been replaced with something close to regret. “I suppose I would be lying if I said that the thought had never crossed my mind. It’s a terrible thing to have to accept that about myself—that there were times when I fantasized about finding her, hurting her the way she’d hurt us. But in the end, what would it have accomplished? My father has been dead for nine years. Nothing can change that, right? Actually, Toby’s the one I feel sorry for—having to live with her ridicule.”

“Ridicule?” Jim asked. “How so? Did he and his mother not have a good relationship?”

“He was only ten years old when she took him and vanished.” Grace folded her arms and leaned down on the table. “I don’t know what their relationship became in the years after they left, but back then she used to badger him unmercifully. Anytime he’d screw up even a little, she’d tell him what a loser his biological father was and how if he wasn’t careful he’d end up the same way. Even at six years old, I felt bad for him when she’d start in. He was just a kid.”

Jim nodded. “So, his real dad wasn’t in the picture?”

“Oh no. Divia didn’t talk about him at all, except when she was berating Toby. I don’t know if the man is still alive, but I don’t think Toby’s ever met him.”

“What was the meeting about
yesterday, Grace?” Jackson asked after jotting down a few notes. “She came looking for you. What did she want?”

“She said we needed to clear the air—that she wanted to try to explain what had happened all those years ago—why she felt the need to leave.”

“And what was her reasoning?” Jim asked.

“She blathered on about fearing for her life, that she thought Toby’s dad had found them and she couldn’t risk putting Toby in
harm’s way, so she’d taken him and ran. She made out like Toby’s dad
was some kind of maniac and she just did what any good mother would do.”

“But you weren’t buying her story?” Jackson asked.

“Not a word. She cleaned out the bank accounts and left us with nothing.”

Jackson made some notes and then looked up. “Did you ask her about that?”

Grace laughed. “Oh yeah. She didn’t have a decent answer, other than to say that I was too young back then to understand her peril. I don’t know why she took Toby and left us that way, but it doesn’t really matter.” Grace made a contemptuous sound. “Her dog and pony show yesterday was nothing but crap. Smoke and mirrors. What she really wanted to do was cover her
…
bases.”

Jackson gave her a perplexed look. “What are you talking about, Grace? What
bases
?”

The chef’s face hardened and she stared at him for a moment before speaking. “Divia disappeared with Toby in the middle of the night twenty-two years ago—just vanished. Well, as it turns out, she never bothered with divorcing my father after they left. She was still married to him when she hitched her traveling circus to Garrett Larson’s money train. Since she had no idea Dad had passed away—again, because she didn’t give a shit—she was nervous that Garrett would find out.”

“So she was worried about polygamy?” Jim asked.

“Yeah. Classy, huh?” Grace chuckled but didn’t sound amused. “She didn’t even ask about my dad. She just wanted to make sure I didn’t squeal on her. Said it wouldn’t do anyone any good at this point, that it would just cause trouble and hard feelings. Do you believe that?”

“And did you set her straight?” Jackson asked, glancing up from his notes. “Did you tell her your father was dead?”

When she turned to him, Jackson knew the answer by the sly look that came into her eyes before she spoke. Evidently, Grace had found a way to hurt Divia after all—or at least to give her a nice, hard jab.

“No,” she finally said. “I told her I needed to get back to work, that I didn’t have time to talk to her. I let her twist in the wind for a few hours. Just for old-times’ sake.”

“For a few hours?” Jackson asked with a frown. “Did you talk to Divia again after that?”

“Yes.” Grace nodded and made a face. “She practically begged me to come to her motel after the festival closed. She said Garrett would be in Austin, and we could talk uninterrupted. That’s why I couldn’t make dinner with the group last night.”

Jackson exchanged glances with Jim, and he knew the other deputy was probably thinking the same thing. “Grace, what time did you go out to the motel?”

“I left here at twenty after six, so it must have been six forty, six forty-five. Why?”

“Well, it makes you possibly the last person to see Mrs. Larson alive,” Jim replied.

The color drained from Grace’s face, and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God! You can’t think that
I
poisoned Divia. Because I left just after seven, and she was alive and well. Okay, maybe she wasn’t happy—she didn’t care for what I had to say—but she was definitely alive when I left. I swear.”

Jackson nodded, thinking that it remained to be seen. “One last question, Grace. Did you bring anything with you when you went to see her at the motel?”

Though he didn’t have proof yet of his theory that Divia Larson had been murdered, he suspected someone had brought the wine to the motel with malicious intent. That the same someone had shared that wine with her and then washed out the glass they’d used to cover their tracks. And he had a gut feeling that the wine had been the vehicle used to poison her.

However, Grace shook her head, and at the confused look on her
face, his gut also told him that it probably wasn’t Grace who had
brought the wine. However, his gut had been wrong on occasion, and Grace could be just a really good actress.

“No,” she answered with a shake of her head. “I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“And you didn’t have a glass of wine with her while you were there? Maybe from the bottle on the dresser?”

“No. Trust me, I wasn’t there long enough to have a glass of vino with her. And there wasn’t a bottle on the dresser that I saw. Why do you ask?”

“Just clearing up a few things,” he replied vaguely. “Where did you go when you left the motel?”

“Meeting with Divia after all these years, seeing her through adult eyes
…
well, let’s just say that I was in no mood for company,” she said. “So I drove to Austin. I got home about eight fifteen, though I don’t have anyone to corroborate my story.”

Jackson nodded and put away his notepad. “Thanks for your time, Grace. And for being so open with us. The reports haven’t come back from the M.E. yet, but I might have more questions for you once they do.”

“I understand,” she said as she got up from the table. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

Jackson watched her walk away then turned back to Jim. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” the other deputy said with a shrug. “She’s definitely got enough rage underneath the surface to do the deed—given the right opportunity. And there’s no way she was ever going to forgive Mrs. Larson for past sins, no matter how the woman would have begged. Plus, I believe pretty much everything she said, but I don’t think she’s told us the whole story.”

“Agreed. I think there’s definitely more to it than she was willing to let on. But what’s she holding back? That’s the question.”

_____

While they were there at the festival, Jackson decided they could at least snag Elise and C.C. to find out more about the catfight that had taken place on Thursday. Miss Abby wasn’t at the venue this afternoon, so they’d have to run out to River Bend later. They’d pretty much gotten the story from the interviews with Third Coast’s staff, but he wanted a view from all sides.

There was a small crowd at the counter as he and Jim walked up to the booth, so they waited off to the side until he could catch Elise’s eye. When she saw him, she smiled and waved him over.

“Hey-ya, handsome. Did you finish your chats with the Third Coast folks?” she asked as she bagged the last customer’s purchase.

“We did. All finished up over there, but I’ve got some questions for you and C.C.”

“For us?” C.C. asked with a look of surprise. “What about?”

Jackson leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “Evidently there were quite the fireworks here on Thursday that y’all failed to mention. Care to tell me about it now?”

Elise frowned. “Fireworks? What are you talking about, Jax?”

“Don’t play dumb, pal. I have it on good authority that you two were front and center when Divia and Monique Toussaint went a couple rounds right over there.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the general vicinity of Third Coast’s booth.

Elise scoffed. “Oh that. It was just your run of the mill catfight. Wasn’t really that big of a deal.”

“Really? Why don’t you tell me about it anyway? Let me decide if it’s a big deal or not.”

His tone was a bit pissy, and her reaction was likewise. “Like I said, it was just some hair-pulling, scratching, biting fun. I would assume that you heard all about it from the staff over at Third Coast.”

“Elise.” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “I’m askin’ you.”