by Joni Folger
Her ex-boyfriend was a murderer. That fact and a myriad of terrible questions collided in Elise’s mind, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to learn the answers that went with them.
On the flip side, she had very few alternatives. With her cell phone in her purse in the car, her best option seemed to be to keep Stuart talking and wait for an opportunity to flee.
She wished now that she hadn’t been so hasty in wanting to confront Henry. Following that impulse had gotten her into this mess in the first place, but at least Madison knew where she’d gone. If she could only keep Stuart distracted long enough, hopefully, help would arrive or she would get an opening to run.
“What kind of demands did Harmony make?” she made herself ask.
Stuart waved his free hand in dismissal. “She began to harass me for more and more attention. It was annoying and tedious.”
“How did you two hook up in the first place? I mean, it’s not like you ran in the same circles or had friends in common.”
“No, of course not.” He grinned. “Actually, you were responsible for our ‘hookup’, darling.”
Elise gaped at him. “I beg your pardon? How was I responsible?”
“Remember my first visit here, when we went out to your artist friend’s Harvest party? We ran into her and that clod of a boyfriend she was with, and you introduced us. Later in the evening, she approached me and was quite flirtatious. I gave her my card, and, as they say, the rest is history.”
“So you were the new fiancé she’d been talking about after her breakup with Bud?”
Stuart barked out a harsh laugh. “Oh Lord, no! I was very clear about our relationship parameters from the beginning.”
“Then where did she get the idea that you two were engaged?”
Henry grunted. “Strung her along just like the rest of us.”
Stuart bristled. “I can’t be responsible for what others take into their heads to believe,” he replied. Then he addressed Elise: “I told Harmony on several occasions that you were my future. On that point, I was firm.”
Elise nodded. “But she wasn’t taking no for an answer, was she? What happened, Stuart? Did she give you an ultimatum—threaten to expose your scheme?”
“She caught me alone down by the Wine Barrel at the wedding reception. You remember—when I went to make that call to the office? Anyway, she demanded that I meet her later; said if I didn’t, she’d tell you about my plans here with Kohler. Then that stupid ex-boyfriend of hers showed up whining like a sap, and I was able to slip away.”
“But she didn’t give up?”
He shook his head, explaining as though this were simple logic. “You have to understand, I couldn’t have her jeopardize the entire operation. She’d become a liability that I had to remove. When she called later, I told her where and when I would meet her. Though I have to say, I didn’t count on her being found so quickly.”
Even though she really didn’t want to know any more, Elise asked the next question on her mind. If she got out of this situation alive, she wanted to be able to explain everything. “What did you strangle Harmony with, Stuart? There was nothing found at the scene.”
Stuart fairly beamed with pride. “I went to the meeting prepared. I took some rope out of your brother’s tool shed.”
Dear God, he’d killed Harmony right under their noses—and he’d stolen the murder weapon from her brother to do it.
The horror she felt at his admission must have been mirrored on her face because he chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling. I put it back where I found it.”
Sick to her stomach, she blurted out what she was feeling before she remembered her goal of keeping him talking. “You’re as crazy as an outhouse rat!”
Stuart narrowed his eyes at that word and waved the pistol at her. “And you, my dear, are now just another liability I need to remove.”
Before she could reply, Elise was taken by surprise as Henry grabbed her by the arm and pulled her behind him, shielding her with his body. “That’s enough, Stuart. I’m putting an end to this whole fiasco right now. I won’t let you harm another innocent person.”
Stuart’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? You aren’t the one holding the gun, so I don’t believe that’s your call.”
“Be that as it may, I’m done being afraid of you. I’ll turn myself in before I’ll kowtow to you any further.”
“You know, I should have gotten rid of you right after I killed Edmond,” Stuart said matter-of-factly. “It would have been cleaner that way. Still, you were very useful for a time. But if you no longer want to play by my rules, that’s fine. Fortunately, I can remedy that problem as well. A two-for-one deal.”
“You’ll never get away with this, Stuart,” Elise spoke up from behind Henry. “My family knows where I am.”
It was a bluff, and they all knew it, but she wasn’t ready to die.
Stuart just laughed. “Even if that were true, it won’t be an issue with what I have in mind, darling. Now, why don’t we all take a walk out to the winery?”
Twenty-Three
Jackson hadn’t been back at the office even ten minutes when the call came in from the Travis County medical examiner confirming what his gut had already told him. Carlos Madera was off the hook: the rock that he’d assaulted Edmond with was not the murder weapon.
Although it was a bit of a disappointment, it wasn’t exactly back to square one. He’d been truthful with Elise earlier about deciphering Edmond’s journal. He just hadn’t related how much of it he’d decoded—or what he’d learned from the pages. But if his suspicions were on the mark, she wasn’t going to like the outcome.
Once he’d figured out the code Edmond had used, unraveling the man’s narrative had gone pretty fast. By the sound of it, Jackson figured he’d gotten a bit further along than Elise had before deciding to go to the end of the journal and work his way backward. That had proved to be much more illuminating; with what he’d learned so far, he was sure he was close to breaking the case wide open.
In the two weeks before he was killed, Edmond Beckett had discovered not only that Henry’s vineyard was in financial trouble but also the identity of the money-man bailing Kohler out. That discovery had probably started the ball rolling and had ultimately led to the man’s murder.
Though Edmond hadn’t mentioned the mysterious benefactor by name, from the clues he’d left in the journal, Jackson suspected he’d known who was involved. And if his own theory was correct, it would also answer the question of how Harmony Gates’s death was connected to all this.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his office door. Looking up from the journal, he found Jim Stockton standing in his doorway.
“You talk to the ME?” Jim asked.
Jackson nodded. “Just a few minutes ago.”
“And? What’s the verdict, boss?”
“Not the murder weapon. There was some soil trace in the area behind Beckett’s right ear where Carlos indicated he’d hit him. That lines up with the statements from both Carlos and Henry. According to the ME, whatever was used to bash in Edmond Beckett’s skull was cylindrical in nature and left no trace evidence in the wounds.”
“Huh?” Jim considered for a moment. “Like a piece of pipe?”
“No tool marks, and again, no trace.”
“Maybe a bat or a club of some kind?”
Jackson leaned back in his chair. “Could be. But from the dimensions of the wounds, the ME thought it would have to be something small in diameter, but with enough length to swing with full force.”
“Pool cue? Denny Rodriguez has several pool tables out at El Diablo. He’d have plenty of cues to choose from.”
“True.” Jackson flipped through the journal on the desk and thought for a moment. “But from what I’ve been able to put together from Edmond’s notes, Denny didn’t have an
ything to do with the scheme he and Kohler were involved in. He was just the guy’s bookie.”
Jim sauntered over to the desk and sat down in the visitor’s chair. “What else have you found in there?”
“Well, I think I’ve found the link between Edmond and Harmony Gates—or at least the way their murders were connected.”
“Really?” Jim sat forward, and his brown eyes lit up with interest. “How’s that?”
Jackson turned a few more pages. “It seems the key to this whole mess was Edmond finding out that Henry was having money trouble—and about the double-cross.”
“How so?”
“Well, Edmond started doing some reconnaissance. He says here that one evening he was snooping around Kohler Winery’s processing room, and he heard someone enter the building. He tucks back behind the tanks and listens in on a meeting between Kohler and another guy. Evidently, Henry was thanking the man for the financial bail-out and promised to get his hands on Elise Beckett’s hybridization process. They were going to cut Edmond out of the deal as soon as that happened.”
“Does it say who this guy was?”
“No, but he does call him by the nickname Fancy Pants.”
“Fancy Pants? What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know what to tell you. Edmond liked nicknames. Once he met someone, he’d hang one on them and never call them by their given name again. Used to call Ross Boy-O and me Sidekick. Then when I joined the force, he changed mine to Deputy Dog.”
Jim laughed and shook his head. “Takes all kinds.”
“I guess. Anyway, I remember hearing him call someone Fancy Pants a few months back—and I don’t think it’s a coincidence finding it here in the journal.”
“You think it’s the same guy?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Who was it?”
Jackson rubbed his forehead where a headache was beginning to brew and then looked over at the other deputy. “Stuart Jenkins, Elise’s former boyfriend.”
“Uh-oh.” Jim whistled through his teeth. “That’s not good. No wonder Edmond was so peeved.”
“Yeah. An outsider horning in on his scheme to put the screws to his family wouldn’t go over well.”
“But it was okay for him to do it, right?” Chuckling, Jim shook his head.
“Something like that. Edmond wasn’t the most stand-up guy I’ve ever met. However, this same guy dating his niece would have been salt in the wound.”
“So, you like this Stuart guy for the murder?”
“I don’t know. I hope not, for Elise’s sake, but my gut is telling me that’s where this is leading.”
“Okay. I can see motive there. Edmond starts making waves and says he’s going to tell the family all about it. This Stuart guy can’t have that. It would jeopardize his operation on several fronts. But how do you figure a connection to Harmony Gates?”
“Edmond told me,” he said, tapping on the journal. “In here he talks about witnessing another meeting outside Kohler’s residence one night, between Harmony and Fancy Pants.” Jackson flipped back in his decoded notes to the page he was looking for. “He says they were arguing about something, but he couldn’t hear what was being said. Then the guy grabs her and kisses her. After that, the guy says something else, and she nods. Then she gets into a car and leaves.”
“Oh man. If you’re right and this Stuart Jenkins is Fancy Pants, then Edmond would’ve considered it a three-strike deal. The guy’s horning in on the scheme, dating his niece, and getting a little on the side from Harmony behind Elise’s back.”
“Yeah. I’m thinking that would be a pretty volatile mix.”
“And you think this guy not only killed Beckett but did Harmony too?”
“It’s a premise that works for me. Edmond’s stirring the pot, threatening to tell the world what he’s discovered. He ends up with his head caved in for his troubles. Maybe Harmony was starting to cause him grief as well.”
“Assuming she knew what was going on,” Jim said.
“Or maybe it was something as simple as jealousy—not wanting to share him with anyone else. She starts hinting about letting Elise in on their secret, and he gets rid of the problem there too.”
“It’s a good theory,” Jim agreed, “and it would explain why Harmony’s house was ransacked; Jenkins would have had to make sure there wasn’t anything there to connect him to her. And he could have been at Edmond’s house for the same reason when Pam showed up looking for her money. So he knocks her out and makes a quick getaway.” Then Jim frowned. “But if Edmond doesn’t call him anything but Fancy Pants in the journal, how do you prove it?”
“I’ve asked Bud Thornton to come in and take a look at some pictures.”
“Bud? What does Harmony’s ex have to do with this?”
Jackson leaned forward and shook his head. “Nothing directly. But last Saturday there was an incident between him and Harmony at Deana Wilkinson’s wedding reception.”
“Yeah, I heard about it. So?”
“Well, when we broke up the argument, Darrell took Bud aside to hear his side of the quarrel. Last night, I went back over Darrell’s report; Bud said something that caught my interest.”
“What was that?”
“He said he went looking for Harmony to ask her to reconsider their break-up, and he found her down by the Wine Barrel talking to some guy. He said the exchange looked intimate at first but then turned ugly.”
“You think the guy was Stuart Jenkins.”
“Maybe. He attended the wedding as Elise’s date, and I personally saw him head toward the Wine Barrel to make a call just before Harmony and Bud had their argument.”
“I don’t know, Jackson. Even if Bud can identify Jenkins from a group of photos, it’s still all circumstantial,” Jim pointed out. “It doesn’t prove that he’s the man Edmond called Fancy Pants, nor does it prove he killed either of them.”
Jackson pulled a bottle of aspirin out of his desk drawer and dry swallowed a couple of tablets. “No, it doesn’t, but I’ve got a strong feeling about this. It’ll give me a reason to bring him in for questioning, and he’d better have an explanation that I can buy.”
As he dropped the aspirin bottle back into the drawer, there was another knock at the door.
“Hey, Jackson,” Darrell Yancy spoke from the doorway. “Bud’s here. Where do you want him?”
“Put him in Interview One. We’ll be right there.”
“All right,” Jim said with a smile. “Let the games begin.”
“Damn straight.”
Pulling out a file of photos from the bin on his desk, Jackson inserted Stuart’s into the mix. He really hoped he was wrong about all this, but deep down, he knew he wasn’t. He wondered how Elise would take the news. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think about that now. He had a job to do, and like he’d told her on several occasions, he had to follow the evidence wherever it led—whether he liked it or not.
Down the hall in Interview One, Jackson found a haggard-looking Bud Thornton waiting and thanked him for coming in.
“Oh, hey, no problem, Jackson. If it will help catch the bastard that did this terrible thing to my Harmony, I’ll do whatever I can.”
Jim patted the man on the shoulder as he sat down next to him. “We understand how hard this is, Bud. We appreciate your help.”
“Bud, tell us about Deana’s wedding reception, particularly when you went to find Harmony. You told Deputy Yancy that you found her down by the Wine Barrel having a conversation with a man.”
Bud’s head bobbed up and down. “Yeah. They were talking real close, you know? I thought for a minute that maybe he was the guy she dumped me for.”
“Why did you think that?” Jim asked.
“I don’t know. I guess the way she was touching his arm and the soft look on her face. She used to look at me t
hat way … back when we were together.”
“You said you thought that for a minute,” Jackson prodded. “Did something make you change your mind?”
Bud pressed his lips together and his brows lowered. “They started to argue. She poked him in the chest a couple of times, and he slapped her hand away. That’s when I moved in. Nobody was gonna treat my girl that way.”
“Did you ask Harmony who he was?”
“I did,” Bud replied. “But she just said it was none of my business anymore who she talked to. I followed her up the driveway trying to get her to talk to me, but, well, you were there, Jackson. You saw how that turned out.”
Jackson felt for the guy. He was obviously torn up over losing Harmony, even though she’d dumped him and tried to leave him behind. “I’m sorry for your loss, Bud. I truly am.”
Tears welled up in the man’s eyes and leaked down his face. “Thanks, Jackson. She was my whole world, you know? Hell, we’d been together since junior high. I was gonna marry her.”
“I know.” Jackson handed him the box of tissues from the end of the table. “Bud, there is one more thing I need you to do.”
“Sure. What’s that?”
Jackson spread ten photos out on the table facing the man. “I need you to look at these and see if the man you saw Harmony with that day is here.”
Bud started at one end of the line of photos and began scrutinizing each. When he got to the picture of Jenkins, he stopped and tapped the image. “That’s him. That’s the guy.”
“You’re sure?”
Again, Bud’s head bobbed up and down. “Yeah. Is this the guy who killed Harmony, Jackson?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”
As Jackson started to gather the photos, Bud stopped him. “Wait—let me look at that again.”
Jackson slid Stuart’s photo back across the table. “Is there a problem, Bud? Having second thoughts?”
“No, this is definitely the guy I saw with Harmony. I thought he looked familiar that day, but I couldn’t place him. Then I got side-tracked with Harmony and what happened, and I forgot about it. But I just remembered where I’ve seen him before.”