Grapes of Death

by Joni Folger

  “I guess,” she said with a shrug.

  “So, you’d already decided not to move to Dallas and take the job?” He crossed his arms and mirrored her stance. “Were you just messin’ with me earlier?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I take it back … you really are a terrible person.”

  That made her laugh, which she knew had been his intension. So she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged his neck. “Thank you for showing up when you did. And for always being there when I need you,” she whispered in his ear.

  Pulling back, he hesitated and then gave her a wink. “My pleasure, darlin’. Always. Now, let’s go have some cake. If you’re really nice to me, I might even spin you around the dance floor a couple of times.”

  True to his word, Stuart’s car was gone when she and Jackson passed the main house on the way back to the reception—which she found a relief.

  Once she’d made the choice not to accept Stuart’s job offer, the stress that had been plaguing her for weeks seemed to evaporate. She was able to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in the pleasant company of family and friends without decision anxiety weighing her down.

  It wasn’t until she climbed the stairs to her apartment much later that she cast another thought in Stuart’s direction. She found an envelope taped to the front door containing an apologetic card and her spare apartment key.

  I really am a terrible person, she thought again as she walked into her bedroom and dropped the card and key on the dresser.

  She turned to find her fat cat sprawled in the middle of the bed. Kicking off her heels, she sat down next to him. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that I gave Stuart his walking papers today, though I think I was a bit hard on him. So I guess it’s just you and me.”

  Chunk stood up and stretched as only cats can do and then meowed, promptly giving her shoulder a head butt.

  “Yeah, yeah. Suck-up.” She scratched his head and ran her hand down his big body. “Come on, tubby. I’ll give you a treat and then it’s into bed for the both of us.”

  She awoke early Sunday morning with bright sunlight streaming through her bedroom window and the beginnings of a dull headache.

  Though she’d fallen asleep quickly, she hadn’t slept well. Tossing and turning, she’d gone from one bad dream to the next all night long. Obviously that last glass of champagne at the reception had been one too many, hence the nightmares and the headache.

  Adding to her concern, she’d initially thought her right foot may have become paralyzed sometime during the night. That was, until she popped her eyes open and realized Chunk had draped himself comfortably across her feet. He had to have been there most of the night, as she couldn’t feel anything in that lower extremity.

  “Hey. You big, fat tub of lard. Get off me.”

  Nothing. The cat showed no reaction, not even an eyelid flickered. Unlike most cats, when Chunk slept, he slept like the dead—and he snored. She couldn’t help but smile just watching and listening to him. He was such a putz, but he was her putz.

  Just when she began to extricate her feet from beneath his girth there came a pounding at her front door.

  Who the hell is at my door on a Sunday morning?

  Turning her head, she craned her neck to see the alarm clock on the nightstand. Ten thirty-five. Okay, so it wasn’t the crack of dawn, but still, it was freakin’ Sunday.

  “Okay, okay. Hold your water,” she grumbled when the pounding began again. “I’m comin’.”

  Kicking the covers aside and a yowling cat to the floor, Elise rolled out of bed and tripped over one of the heels she’d been wearing the night before. “Geez, Chunk, quit your bitchin’. This isn’t the way I wanted to start my day either.”

  Grabbing her robe from the back of the door, she struggled to slip it on without tripping over the damn cat as he wound in and around her feet. “And why is there only one shoe here? What have you done with the other one, you little twerp?”

  Meanwhile, the pounding at her front door wasn’t doing her headache any favors. Scrubbing her hands over her face, she stumbled down the hall and through the living room. Yanking open the front door, a few really nasty words died on the tip of her tongue.

  “Morning, sunshine.” Jackson stood on her doorstep looking quite tasty in a pair of washed-out jeans and a loose-fitting polo.

  He held a cup of coffee in one hand, a bottle of soda and a bag from the bakery up the street in the other. Whatever was in the bag smelled heavenly, but his good mood was a tad annoying when she’d only just pried open her eyes.

  “Jax, do you know what time it is?”

  “I do. It’s almost noon.” His white smile flashed. “I brought snacks to tide you over, so get your ass dressed.”

  “It’s not almost noon. It’s not even eleven yet.”

  “Close enough for government work,” he told her as he brushed by and headed for the kitchen.

  “I don’t even know what that means.” Closing the door, she followed him into the tiny space. “And snacks to tide me over for what? Why are you here in the first place?”

  “You obviously need a shot of caffeine to fire up your brain and jog your memory.” He handed her the soda she craved and shook his head as he opened the bakery bag. “You told your mom and Miss Abby that we would pick up supplies and be out at the house by noon for a late brunch, remember?”

  “Oh my God! I totally forgot we’d decided on brunch in place of Sunday family dinner. I should never drink that much champagne in one sitting.” She opened the soda and glugged down a quarter of the bottle.

  Snatching a warm bagel out of his hand, she turned and headed for the bedroom. “I gotta get in the shower or we’re gonna be late. Keep Chunk company, would you? And find out what he’s done with my shoes.”

  Forty-five minutes later, she was dressed and spackled up. She’d braided her hair and was feeling much more like herself. Now all she was missing was her other damn sandal.

  “Chunk!” she yelled as she came out of the bedroom brandishing a lone shoe. “What have you done with the other one?”

  Jackson lifted his elbow and laughed out loud as he watched the cat try to burrow underneath to escape Elise’s scolding. “Chunk says he has no idea what you’re yammering about.”

  “Geez, he just will not leave my shoes alone. Some kind of weird fetish. Ah-ha! There it is,” she said, spying the matching sandal under the rocking chair.

  Turning, she glared at the cat and a snickering Jackson before slipping the sandals on her feet. “Come on. Let’s get going before I stuff him in the hall closet to make sure nothing else goes missing while I’m gone.”

  By the time they’d stopped at H-E-B for the promised supplies and headed toward the vineyard, it was going on noon. Consequently, it was almost twelve thirty when they drove through the gates at River Bend.

  “Well, for crying in a bucket, it’s about time!” Abigail spouted as she watched Jackson set the grocery bags on the kitchen island. “Where’ve you two been? Out lollygagging, no doubt, when I’ve been waiting for these ingredients to finish my cabernet breakfast casserole.”

  As she turned back to drain the bacon she’d been frying, Elise slipped an arm around her grandmother and gave her a loud smack on the cheek. “Sorry, Gram. It’s my fault. I had a titch too much champagne last night and I’m moving slower than normal this morning, so we got a late start. Where is everybody?”

  “You mother is in her office and Maddy went down to check on the lodge cleanup. The crew she hired got started early this morning.”

  Abigail slapped Jackson’s hand when he reached for a piece of bacon, then she turned to dig through the grocery bags. “The boys ran through here earlier, but I haven’t seen Ross or Caroline yet. Now, you two get out of my kitchen so I can get this shindig put together.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Come on, Jax, let
’s go see what’s holding up Ross and Caro.” She giggled as he snagged a piece of bacon behind her grandmother’s back and spun toward the back door.

  “I saw that,” Abigail called after them as they slipped out of the kitchen.

  Crossing the side yard, Jackson held the gate for her and they followed the well-worn path through the field and around behind the cottage where Ross and his family resided.

  As they neared the back deck, raised voices greeted them from the open windows. Ross and Caroline were obviously arguing about something, but their voices were just muffled enough that the contents of the quarrel were unclear.

  She and Jackson exchanged glances. Before they could decide on whether to interrupt or not, Ethan and Caleb ran out of the wooded area along the river. Ethan was white with shock and Caleb was sobbing.

  Alarmed, Elise started toward them and caught Caleb mid-flight as he launched himself at her. Ethan ran straight to Jackson and held on tight.

  “Caleb, what’s the matter, sweetie? Have you hurt yourself?” she asked, searching the child’s body for injury.

  He shook his head and wiped his nose with his shirt. “Not me, the lady in the woods,” he cried.

  “What lady? What are you talking about?” Elise asked, feeling panic rise in her throat.

  When both boys began to chatter at once, Jackson knelt down and took Ethan by the shoulders. “Slow down, big guy, I can’t understand you. Take a breath and tell me what happened.”

  Ethan took a huge gulp of air before blurting, “We were in the woods down by the river and found a lady. I think she’s dead!”

  Seventeen

  “What’s going on out here?” Ross asked as he came through the sliding glass door out onto the deck.

  Caroline followed close behind. When she saw her youngest child in tears, she hurried down the steps to take him from Elise. “Caleb, baby, what’s the matter?”

  “He’s okay,” Elise said. “I think they both just had a good scare.”

  “What kind of scare?” Ross asked.

  Elise shot a look to Jackson before shaking her head. “That’s not been determined exactly. It seems they stumbled onto something down by the river.”

  “By the river?” Caroline leaned back and looked down into Caleb’s tear-stained face. “You boys know you’re not to be anywhere near the river without an adult.”

  “Mom.” The word was drawn out and full of chagrin as Ethan came to their defense when his brother began to blubber again. “We weren’t at the river. We were in the woods.”

  Jackson stood up and aimed a meaningful look at Ross. “He says they found a woman in the woods and he thinks she’s hurt. I’m going to need him to show me where.”

  The dread on his friend’s face when he nodded told Jackson he understood the gravity of the situation, and that they probably weren’t talking about someone who was just hurt.

  Ross turned to his wife. “Sweetheart, why don’t you take Caleb in the house and I’ll go with them.”

  “I’ll bring Ethan back as soon as he shows them the location,” Elise said when her sister-in-law started to protest.

  Caroline reluctantly nodded and carried Caleb into the house, while the three of them followed eight-year-old Ethan along the trail that led back into the woods.

  When they entered the copse of trees, Ethan stopped short and pointed. They didn’t need him to go any farther; in the dim light Jackson could see bits of the woman’s clothing through the brambles.

  Even from a good fifty feet away, he knew by instinct that they were looking at a dead body.

  “Ethan, you come with me now,” Elise said, taking him by the hand. “We’ll let your dad and Jax take it from here.” She met Jackson’s gaze. “I’ll take him back to the house. Call me on my cell if you need anything.”

  He nodded and waited for them to cross the tree line before turning back to Ross and the unpleasant task at hand. “Come on, Ross, let’s get this over with.”

  As they carefully made their way along the thin trail—and then through the shallow undergrowth to the body—Ross gasped when he caught sight of the woman’s face. “Sweet Jesus, it’s Harmony.”

  “Yeah.”

  Harmony Gates lay nestled in a small grassy area with her hands folded at her mid-section and her legs crossed at the ankles. Though her shoes were gone, the rest of her clothing was neat and tidy, everything in its place. If not for her eyes­—wide open and staring blindly at the oak canopy above—one would think she might have stretched out in the shade for a short nap.

  He’d check for further injury, but with the amount of bruising around her slim neck and the petechial hemorrhaging around her eyes, Jackson was pretty sure strangulation was the cause of death. However, he’d have to wait for the Travis County ME to make it official.

  “Okay, I’m going to need you to take three or four giant steps back the way we came. This is a crime scene now and I don’t want to disturb it any more than we have to.”

  When Ross continued to stare down at the unfortunate woman without answering him or moving away, Jackson put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Ross? You okay, buddy?”

  “We just saw her yesterday, Jax. We talked to her; El took her up to the house after that argument she had with Bud. Remember?”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, Uncle Edmond made enemies left and right, so having somebody murder him wasn’t all that shocking. But Harmony?” Ross looked over at him then with eyes full of disbelief. “How does something like this happen? And so close that my boys could find her. God, Jax, she was harmless. Who would have done this?”

  Jackson shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’m damn sure gonna find out, I promise you that. Now move on back. I’m going to do a preliminary check of her body and the surrounding area, and then call it in.”

  Just under four stressful hours later, Harmony’s body was finally carried out of the woods to be transported into town. Ross had hung in there long enough for the crew to arrive before Jackson had sent him back to the house to wait.

  After overseeing a search of the immediate area—and finding precious little to go on—Jackson was more than a little frustrated. Though the brush had been broken down from the trail to where Harmony had been left, the ground cover was too thick to get lucky with footprints.

  He needed to head into the office to file his report as soon as possible, but while the crew finished up at the scene, he hiked back to Ross’s house.

  Jackson found Ross and Elise sitting out on the deck. At first glance, they looked like a couple of folks simply enjoying drinks in the late afternoon sun.

  Until you looked closer.

  Ross still had a shell-shocked look about him, and Jackson knew the scotch he held in his hand probably wasn’t his first. Though Elise held a glass of wine and smiled as he approached, he could tell by her body language that she was keyed up and more than a little upset.

  He really couldn’t blame either of them. Two deaths on the property in as many weeks could be considered tragic. But that they were both homicides? What were the odds? It was pretty disturbing.

  And in Jackson’s opinion, more than coincidental.

  “Did you find anything, Jax?” Ross asked.

  “Not much.” He sat down on the end of Elise’s lounge, took her glass, and sipped. “I’m fairly sure strangulation will be the cause of death, though we didn’t find the murder weapon. Other than the bruising around her neck, she didn’t have any other visible injuries that I could see. The ME will tell us for sure.”

  “What’s happening here, Jax?” Elise asked quietly. She dashed at angry tears that threatened. “What the hell did Harmony Gates do to anyone? It makes me so mad. And I feel so helpless, which only serves to make me more furious.”

  “Who would have done this?” Ross asked. “Do you think it was the same person who killed
Uncle Edmond?”

  “Possibly.”

  “But what link could there be?”

  “I won’t know what connection there may be until I find it. But at this point, I’m not ruling anything out.” Jackson rolled his shoulders, where tension seemed to have taken up residence. “All I know for sure is that I have two murders now within a two-week period, and the only common ground that I can see so far is River Bend.” He held up a hand before Ross could ramp up again. “Look, you’re right. Harmony’s death may well be random or a case of wrong place, wrong time. But I have to check every avenue, Ross. And I gotta be honest; my gut’s telling me this is somehow all connected.”

  Ross’s perplexed expression didn’t change. “But how? I don’t think Harmony and Uncle Edmond even knew each other. They certainly didn’t travel in the same social circles. Hell, there was thirty years or more in age difference alone.”

  Jackson shook his head and stood up. “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers—yet. But trust me when I say I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

  He looked down at Elise. “I have to go back into town, file my report. You want a ride home?”

  “No, you go ahead. I think I’ll stay here tonight. It’s been a terrible day, to say the least, and Mom is a mess, though she’s trying not to show it. I’ll get a ride home from someone tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Call if you need me.”

  As Jackson drove back to the office, fragmented bits of information churned in his head. He couldn’t explain it—and he knew it seemed like a stretch—but a small voice at the back of his mind insisted that Harmony’s and Edmond’s deaths were somehow connected.

  Perhaps they were both part of some bigger picture. He just needed to figure out what that picture looked like. Whatever it was, River Bend was smack-dab in the middle of it. He needed to go back to the beginning, sift through everything he’d already learned.

  Later, as he sat down to write his report, he thought a good place to start the process was Edmond’s journal. He had a gut feeling that the key to the entire mess was concealed there somewhere. He hadn’t had the time to slog through every entry, nor had he deciphered all the initials and codes the man had used.