Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery) (14 page)

Jim gave him a commiserative look, but his response was anything but sympathetic. “Better you than me, pal. Better you than me.”

fourteen

After procrastinating as long
as he could, Jackson ended up cutting it pretty damn close. It was going on seven forty-five when he turned through the gates at River Bend. And by stewing about how he was going to approach the family with his latest news, he’d managed to add fuel to the headache that was already brewing on the twenty-minute drive from town.

What he’d told Jim about Laura and Miss Abby understanding that he had a job to do was true—at least, he hoped it was. The Becketts were as close to a second family as he would ever get, and while he didn’t want to let them down, he had to be as transparent as possible where the investigation was concerned. It was his only way to protect them. Any whiff of partiality or impropriety could get him bounced off the case, and then where would they all be? Nobody in the department knew or understood the lot of them like he did.

He pulled his cruiser in next to C.C.’s pickup and shut down the engine. Lights from inside the main residence spilled from the windows in the gathering twilight, giving off a warm, inviting glow. Being the only child of a pair of archeologists who sometimes forgot they even had a son, he’d often spent more time in this house than he had
in his own. And Abigail DeVries had always treated him no differently than any of her other grandchildren, which made this whole deal that much harder for him.

Just as he climbed out of the vehicle, the front door opened and Elise stepped out onto the porch. She strolled over to the top of the steps and slapped a hand on her hip.

“It’s about time you got here, pal,” she said with a smirk. “You know, Gram would have skinned you alive if you’d have walked in after she’d said grace.”

He nodded as he went up the steps to meet her. “I got hung up at the office. Grace’s murder dovetails with Divia’s in a very disturbing way, and I don’t have a good feeling about where it’s going.”

“Aw, poor baby.” She gave him a welcoming kiss before slipping her arm through his. “You’d better come on in. Dinner is about to be served. We can eat and later you can tell me all about it.”

He raised an eyebrow as he opened the door for her. “Yeah? Well, somebody’s gonna be talking, but we’ll see who tells who what.”

“Very funny.” She gave him a cheesy smile when she preceded him into the foyer. “You know I love it when you go all macho cop on me. But we’ll save that for later as well. Everyone’s already at the table.”

Following her down the hall toward the dining room, he tried to put the investigation out of his mind for the time being. He’d delayed the inevitable this long, another hour or so wasn’t gonna hurt anything.

“Have a seat, you two,” Abigail said when they entered the room. She pointed toward the empty chairs on the far side of the table. “We weren’t sure you’d be able to make it with all the recent hubbub and such, Jackson. But I made sure your place was set just the same.”

“Thanks, Miss Abby. You’re the best.”

She gave him a brilliant grin then turned to snap at Ross. “Quit hogging those mashed potatoes, boy. Pass them around to Jackson.”

Ross’s mouth dropped open. “Geez, Gram. I just got ’em. Give me a minute to get some on my own plate. Besides, he hasn’t even sat down yet.” Ross threw Jackson a dirty look. “Gram’s favorite,” he muttered.

Jackson laughed and shook his head. “It’s not so much that I’m her favorite, buddy. It’s just that she doesn’t like you at all.”

“Bite me, Jax.”

“Ross Alexander
…
manners? What have I told you about your language at my table,” Laura said as she entered the room and sat down at the end with him to her left and Jackson to her right.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.

If Jackson thought he was off the hook, he was mistaken. When she turned to him, it was with a stern look. “And no baiting at the table, either, Jackson Christopher.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

She smiled and patted his hand. “Besides, Mom loves all her little
darlins equally—right, Mom?”

Abigail set a steaming bowl of mixed vegetables down next to the brisket and took her seat at the other end of the spread. “Nope,” she said with a straight face as she passed the basket of dinner rolls to Madison. “They’re both right. Jackson’s my favorite, and I really don’t like Ross.”

After a beat, the entire table erupted into a cacophony of laughter, and even Ross cracked a reluctant smile. “Thanks, Gram,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s just what I needed to hear to give my ego a boost.”

Abigail cackled then and sent him a mischievous look. “Oh, you know I’m just having some fun with you. Y’all
are
my little darlins—each and every one of you.”

They made it through dinner and were well into Miss Abigail’s delicious pecan pie when Ross’s wife, Caroline, finally came in.

“Sorry I’m so late. Caleb isn’t feeling well. I think he may have picked up a bug,” she said, referring to their six-year-old son. She sat down next to Ross. “I wanted to make sure he was asleep before heading this way. Ethan gave me some grief over the whole thing, too. He was pretty miffed that this family dinner was too late for them to attend. Plus, he didn’t think he should have to go to bed half an hour early just because Caleb did. After all, he
is
two years older.”

“That’s my boy,” Ross added with a laugh.

She shook her head. “I think they were both asleep before their little heads hit their pillows. I had Sancia come over and sit with them so I could come over here for a bit.”

“It must be convenient having your babysitter living just up the road on the property,” C.C. said.

“Yes. Having Sancia and Carlos so close is great. That the Maderas live
and work here at the vineyard has been a huge plus,” Caroline replied, “especially now that I’m helping out at the Wine Barrel several days a week.”

“Are you hungry, honey?” Miss Abby asked. “I can heat you up a plate. There’s plenty.”

“Oh, no. Gosh, don’t trouble yourself, Gram. I ate with the boys earlier. But I wouldn’t mind a slice of that yummy pecan pie of yours.”

“You got it,” Miss Abby said before rising to fetch Caroline a plate.

It seemed like such a normal family dinner that Jackson almost put the investigation out of his mind. But it wasn’t long before it reared its ugly head. And of course, Ross had to be the one to bring it up.

“So Jax, any news about Grace’s or Divia’s murders?”

So much for a normal evening with family.

Jackson slowly lowered his fork to his plate. Leave it to Ross to put it so bluntly with Grace not even cold and C.C. sitting right there.

“Ross! For crying out loud,” Elise said with a frown.

“What?” he asked leaning back in his chair.

She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Can’t we go a measly few hours and at least get through dinner without talking about homicide?”

“Well, geez, El,” Ross complained. “Weren’t you the one who started this whole ‘let’s keep our eyes and ears open’ thing? I thought you’d want to know the latest news.”

“And I thought you’d be more subtle and compassionate.” She made a face. “And thanks, way to throw me under the bus
…
yet again.”

“That’s enough, you two,” Miss Abby said. “Ignore them and their foolishness, Jackson. They’re just bein’ nosy. I know you have to be careful what you say about your cases.”

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Jackson figured he’d better
get on with it. He’d waited long enough. “Well, now that he’s brought
it up, there are a few things we need to talk about, Miss Abby.”

“Ah-ha!” Ross said, pointing a finger in Jackson’s direction. “I knew it.”

“Hush, Ross.” Abigail
slowly sank into her chair. “Should we go into Laura’s office for privacy?”

“Oh, hell no!” Ross blurted. “You’re not talking to the police alone. No way, no how. Y’all can have any conversation you like right here within earshot of the family.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, boy” Abigail exclaimed. “It’s only Jackson. He’s part of this family, and don’t you forget it.”

Ross nodded but was undeterred. “You’re absolutely right, Gram. Jax
is
part of this family. However, he’s also a sheriff’s deputy and the officer in charge of two recent murder inquiries,” he reminded her. “Remember Uncle Edmond’s homicide investigation? Jax has to stay objective or risk being removed from both cases. And, as he’s so fond of saying, he has to follow the evidence. Isn’t that right, Jax?”

For a moment Jackson was too stunned to respond. This calm,
insightful analysis coming from the normally hot-headed and
accusatory Ross left him speechless. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” was the question on the tip of his tongue.

“Uh
…
actually, Ross is right, Miss Abby,” he said when he finally found his voice. “Until this investigation is complete, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else present during any conversations regarding Mrs. Larson’s death. And the family should hear what I have to say, anyway.”

Abigail frowned, but after a moment, nodded. “All right. You know I trust you, Jackson, and if you think that would be best, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Okay, the way you’re talking it’s starting to sound like Gram really is a suspect,” Madison spoke up with a worried look.

Abigail laid her hand over Madison’s and squeezed. “Of course I’m a suspect, sweetheart. I don’t have an alibi. Plus, I was the one to find the body.” She glanced over at Jackson, and the look in her eyes was shrewd. “And if I’m not mistaken, there’s more to it now. Am I wrong?”

Jackson sighed. “No, ma’am, you’re not wrong. So far, we’ve confirmed the call you received from Mrs. Larson, as well as the
texts. However, we’ve also got several reports back from the lab. Mrs. Larson’s were the only fingerprints on the glass found on the dresser
next to the wine bottle.” He paused before diving into the deep end. “And the only prints on the wine bottle itself were yours.”

Again the room erupted, only this time it wasn’t into laughter.

“What the hell are you saying, Jax?” Ross yelled. “I don’t like your implications.”

There’s the Ross we all know and love
, Jackson thought.

Caroline crossed her arms and glared at him. “That doesn’t mean
a thing, and you know it!”

“Yeah, Miss Abby worked the booth with us on Thursday,” C.C. put in. “She could have sold that bottle to the killer. Heck, any one of us could have sold it and just had her bag it.”

Elise nodded. “And she worked at the Wine Barrel on Friday, so there was ample opportunity for her to touch the bottle in question.”

“Whoa! Calm down, y’all.” Jackson put up his hands in surrender. “You’re all absolutely right. We’ve taken all of that into consideration already. And it’s only circumstantial at this point, anyway. Plus, the good news is that there was no poison in the wine bottle. Only the glass with Mrs. Larson’s prints had traces of the cyanide.”

When the room quieted down, Abigail’s voice broke the momentary silence, and her gaze connected with his. “But it all adds up, doesn’t it? That’s what you’re
not
saying, right?”

“What do you mean, Gram?” Madison asked.

“Maddy—”

“No, Jackson,” Abigail interrupted. “Let me.”

She looked around the table at each member of the family before continuing. “What Jackson is having difficulty with is that all the circumstantial evidence points in my direction.”

“That’s just ridiculous, and he knows it,” Ross shouted.

She put up a hand to quell the rest of the outbursts of denial that threatened. “No, he’s most certainly correct. And if you look at each piece of the puzzle, you’ll see what I mean.”

When she had everyone’s undivided attention, she continued. “Number one—I have a romantic history with the victim’s husband, and I’ve had a prickly history with the victim herself. It’s no secret Divia and I had no use for each other. Number two—I have no alibi. I was home alone on Friday night, and I was the one to find her body very close to the time of her death.” She ticked off each point with a finger as she went through the evidence. “Number three—the lab report has now confirmed that my fingerprints are the only prints on the wine bottle found in her room. And though there was no trace of poison in the wine bottle, we all know that cyanide is used quite frequently here at the vineyard and readily available.”

Though she’d hit every point, it tore Jackson up to sit there and listen to her rattle off the evidence he and Jim had gone over earlier.

“Taken individually, I guess it’s not so bad. But when you add it all up, circumstantial as it may be, it doesn’t look good.” She glanced
around the silent room until her eyes met his again. “Did that about
cover it?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s it in a nutshell.”

“Come on, Jax,” Ross spoke up after a moment. “You know damn
well Gram didn’t kill Divia Larson. I mean, there are other folks around with better motives.”

“And we’re looking at them, but you guys have to trust me to do my job. As you pointed out at the start of this conversation, I’m walking a really thin line here. And I have to follow the evidence—wherever it leads me.”

“And if it leads you back to one of the family?” Ross pushed the
envelope with a mutinous look on his face. “If it leads back to Gram?
What then?”

“Ross—” Laura began but Ross cut her off.

“No, Mom, I want to know exactly where his loyalties are.”

For Jackson, the comment was more than he could stomach, and
he shoved back from the table. “You know, buddy, it always seems to come down to this, doesn’t it? We went through this same damn bullshit during Edmond’s murder investigation. I guess saying that I’m part of the family is easy lip-service, but when push comes to shove, that’s all it is.”