Killer Among the Vines (Wine & Dine Mysteries Book 7)

by Gemma Halliday

"Right," I agreed, turning to go.

  "Hope you come back soon," Derek said. Though the way his eyes were firmly on Ava's retreating backside, it was clear he was only talking to one of us.

  "Dang, I may need a cookie basket delivery," Ava mumbled as we stepped back out into the sunshine.

  "Down, girl. I don't think his Aunty Katy was a fan."

  "Well, she was less of a fan of Buckley's. Did you see the way that vein in her neck started to bulge when we mentioned his name?"

  I nodded, threading our way through the aisles of cars in the parking lot. "And I'm having a hard time believing she didn't know Buckley was in town before she saw him on the news."

  "The question is, did she intentionally follow him here to kill him, or was it just a coincidence that they both liked wine?"

  "I wish I knew." I unlocked my Jeep. "But she apparently had a hundred thousand reasons to be mad at Buckley. That's a lot to pay someone to be quiet."

  "Especially someone who then sang like a proverbial canary," Ava added.

  "I had no idea we were talking about so much money." I slipped into the driver's seat and turned the car on.

  "Money no one has ever seen," Ava said, giving me a meaningful glance. "Carmen said her lawyer looked for it, but she neglected to say how much it was. What if she actually did find it."

  "And killed Buckley for it?" I asked.

  "People have killed for a lot less."

  That was true. A hundred grand could do a lot for someone who lived off tips from pedicures. While Nadia's Nails was a nice enough place, I could imagine a hundred thousand dollars was far more than Carmen would see in a year. Possibly even two or three.

  My phone buzzed from my pocket. I pulled it out to see David's name on the display.

  "Hey, David," I said, putting it on speaker.

  "Hey, Ems. Where are you?"

  "2nd Street," I said, backing out of the parking space.

  "Is Ava with you?"

  "I'm here," she piped up. "Why?"

  "Because I thought I'd invite the two of you to join me for lunch at the Links."

  I raised an eyebrow Ava's way. "And you're buying?" I asked, knowing that the prices at the golf club were high enough to cover the prestigious ambiance.

  "I am," he confirmed.

  "May I ask the occasion?" I asked as I pulled out of the parking lot.

  David chuckled on the other end. "Well, I just happened to run into someone here I thought you might like to talk to."

  He was purposely drawing this out for drama's sake.

  "Okay, I'll bite. Who?"

  "Jamie Connolly. Bill Buckley's almost-stepson."

  Ava and I shared a look across the car interior. "Jamie Connolly is a member at the Links?"

  "Not member. He works here. He's a weekend server on the back nine veranda."

  I nodded, remembering Sheila had mentioned a weekend job when we'd met her.

  "So, what do you say?" David asked. "Fancy a Cobb salad on the veranda, ladies?"

  I made a right at the light. "We'll be right there."

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Sonoma Links was located on several manicured acres just outside of town, consisting of lush golfing greens, a large clubhouse with an indoor lounge, dining rooms, several meeting and club rooms, and a spacious veranda, where ladies who lunch could sip cocktails and gossip while eyeing the hot golf pros. The unspoken dress code ranged from slacks and golf shirts, to breezy sundresses, and even a few business suits for those who enjoyed the club more for its prestige than physical pursuits.

  David Allen stuck out like a cactus among lilies, sitting at the edge of the veranda in a black T-shirt and jeans—ripped at the knees and splattered along the thighs in oil paints of various colors. His combat boots were crossed at the ankles, and his arms were casually cradling the back of his head as he leaned back in his dark sunglasses, obviously enjoying the midday sunshine.

  "Hey," Ava said as we approached his table. "Thanks for the invite."

  David lifted his shades but didn't straighten up in his seat on our account. "Ladies." He nodded from Ava to me. "I took the liberty of ordering a rosé."

  I noticed three glasses on the table and a chilled bottle in a silver ice bucket on a stand to his right.

  "Sounds wonderful," Ava said.

  "You come from the studio?" I asked, gesturing to the paint on his jeans.

  He nodded. "Just putting a couple finishing touches on a piece."

  "For your show tomorrow night?" Ava asked, reaching for the chilled rosé.

  "Possibly." David held his glass out to her. "I'm still debating whether to show this particular piece or not."

  "I'm surprised they let you in this place looking like that," I said, knowing from personal experience that the clerks who manned the front desk were more gatekeepers than greeters.

  David's face broke into his trademark sardonic smile. "Honey, with how much I spend here, they'd let me in naked."

  Ava snorted as she filled his glass. "I'd like to see that."

  "Oh yeah?" His grin widened. "That can be arranged."

  "Behave, children," I told them.

  David winked at me but thankfully ceased flirting.

  "You said Jamie was working here?" I asked, moving the subject on.

  David nodded. Then gestured to our left with his head. "He's our server."

  I glanced in the direction he indicated, seeing a tall guy in a pair of khaki pants and a blue polo shirt bearing the Links logo. He was presenting a pair of plates to two older ladies at the next table over. I honestly never would have recognized him out of his street clothes and in the uniform that blended in with every other young person working the club.

  "Have you talked to him yet?" I asked.

  "Just to order drinks. Thought I'd wait for Charlie's Angels to begin the interrogations." He sent us a teasing grin.

  I rolled my eyes. But since the rosé looked delightful, and David was paying, I let it go. Instead, I filled my glass and had just taken my first fruity sparkling sip when Jamie made his way to our table.

  "I see the rest of your party is here," he said, addressing David. "Are you all ready to order?"

  "I think so," David decided, finally sitting up in his chair and folding his long legs back under the table. "Ladies first, though." He nodded to Ava.

  "I'll take a chicken Caesar wrap," she decided, setting down her menu.

  Jamie wrote the order on a little notebook then turned an expectant gaze my way.

  Up close, I could see the same dark eyes his mother had, though his features were much more angular than hers. While he was polite enough to us paying guests, I could see something almost challenging in his demeanor and posture. As if in a constant state of trying to prove he belonged here.

  "Uh, the Lobster Bisque please, " I said.

  He nodded and wrote it down.

  "And for you, sir?" he asked, and I thought I could almost detect a hint of sarcasm in the word sir. Granted, David did dress more like a teen than a country clubber.

  "Let's go with the filet mignon."

  I shot him a look. Had I known we were splurging, I would have ordered more. I was suddenly tempted to add an actual lobster tail to go with my soup.

  "You only live once, right?" David said, giving me a wink.

  "Sure." Jamie's face was totally void of emotion, giving only the bare minimum of social interaction that was required to earn his paycheck. He turned to go put our orders in.

  But Ava piped up stop him. "Uh, you're Jamie, right?" she said.

  He paused. "That's right. Was there something else, ma'am?"

  "No, I just…well, I saw you the other day."

  He frowned.

  "Uh, at your apartment building." Ava nodded toward me. "Emmy and I were visiting your mom."

  Jamie's eyes went from Ava to me, the frown between his brows deepening. "You know my mom?"

  "Sort of. I mean, we've met her. I own the winery where…" I trailed off, not sure how hard
Buckley's death had hit the boy.

  But it turned out I hadn't needed to worry, as Jamie finished the thought for me. "You mean, where Bill got his brains blown out."

  I saw Ava visibly wince.

  But David chuckled. "Not a fan of the old man, huh?"

  "He wasn't my old man," Jamie shot back.

  "Sure, but he was dating your mom, wasn't he?" David pressed.

  Jamie's jaw worked back and forth, but he didn't answer.

  "How is she holding up?" I asked, trying to lighten the tone a little.

  "She's fine," came his clipped answer. Then he quickly turned and all but stalked toward the kitchen to put our orders in.

  "Well, he's a delight," Ava said, sipping her rosé.

  "People grieve in all sorts of ways," I said, trying to give the kid the benefit of the doubt.

  "Yeah, that was not grief," David said, swirling wine in his glass. "That was pure hatred."

  I opened my mouth to protest, but David ran right over me.

  "Just because the guy is dead does not mean he was a saint in life."

  I shut my mouth. "You're right. Seems like he was far from it, actually." I quickly filled him in on our conversations that day with Eckhart and Katy Kline, ending with the theory that Buckley had been hiding a hundred thousand dollars' worth of ill-gotten gains.

  "And no one has ever seen this money?" David asked when I was done.

  I shook my head. "Buckley told IA he spent it."

  "But it's possible he's been just sitting on it," Ava said.

  "And you think it's why he was killed?" David asked.

  Ava shrugged. "It's one theory. I could see Carmen killing him for it in a heartbeat."

  "I could see her killing him for a twenty," I joked.

  Ava laughed. "Agreed. She had a huge grudge against him."

  "Well, if you think this is a grudge killing, I'd say the cookie queen has the better reason for revenge," David said. "Buckley put her away for how long?"

  "Four years. But she only served two," Ava said.

  "Don't count out his former partner, Eckhart, though," I added. "Buckley's greed derailed Eckhart's whole career."

  "And there's still our server," Ava reminded us. "He's clearly not shedding a tear over his mom's boyfriend being out of the picture."

  We all turned to look at Jamie as he took a drink order from a couple who'd just been seated near the doors. I noticed he was studiously avoiding looking in our direction. I halfway suspected he'd pawn our table off on another server.

  "I forgot to ask how your meeting with Schultz went yesterday," David said, leaning back in his chair and turning his face toward the sunshine again. "You get the cash infusion you needed, Ems?"

  "Ugh. No. Not even close," I mumbled. "Schultz says I need to take on a partner."

  "Partner?" David frowned. "Why?"

  "Short answer? Investors won't touch me with a ten foot pole."

  "Honey." Ava sent me a sympathetic smile.

  "Have they tasted your wines?" David asked.

  I shook my head. "My wine has nothing to do with it. Unfortunately," I added, thinking I might have had a chance of winning them over if it had. "Our profits just aren't high enough. At least not high enough to outweigh the growing expenses, which have had us in the red all year long."

  "Everyone's been in the red. They can't blame you for the governor's shutdown," David pointed out.

  "No." I bit my lip. "But we weren't exactly thriving before that either," I confessed. "Anyway, without investors or getting deeper into debt I can't pay back, Schultz says finding a partner who wants a 'pet project' is my best bet."

  "Ouch. He called Oak Valley a pet project?" Ava said.

  I blew out a long breath. "Yeah. I know. My pride is just about flat lining."

  "Sorry, Ems." David sat up and threw an arm around my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Something will come along. It always does."

  "Sure," I said with entirely false optimism. I had a bad feeling the only thing that would be coming along was a weekend warrior with big ideas and very little knowledge to back them up. If I was lucky. If not…

  I didn't even want to think about if not.

  I shook that depressing thought as Jamie approached with a tray of plates in hand. Apparently, he had decided to brave our table again after all. Though I noticed as he silently doled the plates out, he avoided any eye contact.

  "Thanks very much," I told him as he set my bisque in front of me. Which, I had to admit, looked delicious. The aroma of buttery lobster and briny tomato broth wafted up to me from my bowl, making me realize just how hungry I'd been.

  Jamie grunted in response but averted his gaze as he set Ava's wrap in front of her.

  "I'm sorry if we upset you earlier," Ava told him.

  He squared his jaw but managed to grind out "Don't worry about it."

  "I'm sure it's all been a shock," she went on. "In fact, I'm surprised the club didn't give you some time off."

  "I don't need it," he said, all but throwing David's filet in front of him.

  "It must be a lot to process," Ava said, her voice still sympathetic, despite his gruff demeanor.

  He didn't answer, still averting his gaze as he gathered his tray back up in his hands.

  I felt any opportunity to get more from him quickly slipping away.

  "Your mother mentioned you were out," I said quickly.

  Jamie finally lifted his eyes to meet mine.

  "Uh, the night Buckley died," I clarified. "Your mom said you weren't at home. That she was waiting up for you."

  His expression was unreadable, but his voice was clipped. "So?"

  "So, I was wondering where you were."

  Jamie's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice so it came out as a growl. "What is this, an interrogation?"

  "No!" I protested. "No, I just… I know she was worried about you."

  "You don't know anything about my mother!" he spat back.

  "Well, since we're being frank here," David jumped in, "how about you tell us what you were doing at the winery?"

  "I wasn't at your stupid winery!" Jamie said. "I was nowhere near that place when Bill died."

  "So where were you?" David asked again. "When Bill died?"

  "Out. With friends."

  "What about the next day?" I asked.

  Jamie's gaze shot to mine again.

  "You were at my winery then. You almost ran us off the road."

  He shrugged. "You should learn how to drive."

  I opened my mouth to protest that it had been him who'd been driving like a maniac, but David jumped in again, his tone insistent. "What were you doing at the winery that day?"

  Jamie clenched his back teeth together again, squaring his jaw. But the anger radiating off of him was tempered with another emotion this time. It looked a lot like fear in the way his breath was coming heavier, his eyes darting between us.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Jamie said. He spun and turned to go.

  But David's hand shot out and caught the kid's arm, preventing his exit.

  Jamie's eyes were full of fire, and for a moment I thought he might try to punch David right there on the golf club veranda.

  "You were there," David said, his voice stern now, the jovial tone gone. "I saw you."

  Jamie's heated gaze went from David to me, a murderous look in his eyes that I could easily see spilling over into actual action. Despite the warm sunshine, a chill ran up my spine.

  "Let go of me!" He jerked his sleeve free, eyes darting around the veranda, as if trying to make sure he wasn't causing a scene. "You people might think you own the world, but you don't own me," he ground out.

  Then he turned and stormed back to the kitchen.

  "Well, I guess we won't be seeing a dessert menu," Ava said, staring after him.

  "And he won't be seeing a tip," David said, his eyes hard as he watched the kid's retreating back.

  * * *

  Predictably
, we did not see Jamie again while we finished our meal. In fact, the bill was brought out by another server altogether who told us Jamie was "on a break." Which was clearly code for avoiding any more questions that he didn't have good answers for.

  "We could corner him in the break room?" Ava suggested as David paid the bill.

  I shrugged. "You think it would do any good?"

  "At least maybe we could get an alibi out of him."

  "You won't," David said as the server walked away. "If he doesn't want you to know, he'll just lie."

  "Well, he clearly has some anger issues," Ava said. "I could definitely see him snapping and…"

  "'Blowing Buckley's brains out?'" David finished for her.

  She shuddered as we rose from the table. "Who talks like that? I mean, the guy was basically his dad."

  "Maybe that was what he wanted to avoid," I said.

  "Or maybe it was about his mom," David offered as we made our way back through the club to the valet station.

  "How so?" Ava asked.

  "Well, we've established Buckley wasn't a pillar of moral fortitude," David said.

  "Agreed," I added.

  "Maybe he wasn't such a nice guy to Sheila Connolly. Maybe he did something or said something to her, and it pushed Jamie over the edge."

  "He did seem defensive when we mentioned her," I agreed.

  "And Buckley does have a history of cheating, if Carmen's to be believed." Ava turned to David. "Apparently not all of the bribes Buckley took from Katy were in the form of cash."

  David grinned. "I've gotta meet this Cookie Katy."

  "No," I told him emphatically. "You don't. Besides, she was more Soccer Mom than Lady of the Evening."

  "Hmmm." David didn't sound convinced.

  Ava tapped me on the arm. "I'm just gonna go powder my nose before we go." She gestured toward the ladies' room near the club entrance.

  I nodded. "I'll get the car," I told her.

  "So, where are you off to now?" David asked as we walked to the valet station.

  "I have a meeting with Buckley's lawyer," I said, glancing at the time on my phone.

  "Oh?" David raised an eyebrow my way.

  "I need to find out where to send his last check. I figured his lawyer would know."

  "Uh-huh." He gave me a funny look.

  "What?"