“What did Paul do different to get it this smooth?”
Tessa frowned. If you’re going to run the winery, Lainey, it’s time for a little education. She moved closer. Every type of wine comes from a different grape. Chardonnay, merlot, pinot, they all have their own grape.
Lainey took another sip. “You definitely hit onto something special when you grew this one.”
You can’t grow Viognier grapes in Texas, my not-so-smart sister. It’s too freakin’ hot. We imported them from a small vineyard in northern California. That was one of the knock-down, drag-outs between Jerry and me. He wanted things to stay as they were.
“I’m glad you convinced him.” Lainey poured another glass. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a white wine this smooth.”
Tessa beamed. Even Jerry was amazed. We’re gonna sell this at fifty bucks a bottle, wholesale. Only the finest restaurants in the area will serve it. She paused and lowered her eyes. I hate being dead. I hate that you and Jerry will sell it, not me.
Lainey poured her third helping, noticing Tessa’s raised eyebrows. “What? These cups are small.”
I know you, little sis. You’ll be drunk before Colt gets home. She giggled. I once read an article in a magazine about the dangers of heavy drinking. Scared the shit out of me, and I never read that magazine again.
Lainey shook her head. As irritating as Tessa was, she made her laugh, but hearing her mention Colt’s name reminded her they had unfinished business. She swallowed the sip of wine and placed the cup on the table. “Sit,” she commanded.
Tessa’s eyes questioned before she plopped down in a chair opposite Lainey and giggled. We never really did this, you and me. Are we about to have some kind of sister talk?
“Is Colt Gracie’s father?”
Tessa gasped. Now why would you ask a stupid question like that?
“Cut the crap. I saw the e-mail you sent him.”
Tessa folded her arms across her chest and glared. I never figured you to be a snoop, Lainey. Since I know Colt would never show that to anyone, I have to assume you looked into his personal things.
Lainey opened her mouth to defend herself then decided against it. “Does it really matter how I found out? What’s important is whether it’s true or not.”
Tessa took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. It is.
Lainey stood up, knocking the chair backwards. “How could you do that to him, Tessa? Even for you, it’s unconscionable. And why would you tell him after all these years? He was the only parent Gracie had, real or not.”
Tessa quickly dropped her lashes but not before Lainey saw the hurt. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That was a low blow. I know you loved Gracie and wanted custody of her. I get that, but to threaten Colt with the only thing in life he lives for …” She paused, unable to go on, sitting back down instead. Reaching for the wine, she tilted her head back and drained the glass.
I have no excuse, Tessa said softly. I know I was a shit. Hell, I was a shit to everyone. I was used to getting my own way no matter what I had to do. She paused. Remember when I told you my life was going to change big time? When Lainey nodded, Tessa continued. I thought I would get joint custody and start acting like a mother for once. I had big plans for Gracie and me.
“Who is Gracie’s father?”
Tessa studied Lainey’s face for several minutes before her mouth half-curled as if she couldn’t quite complete the smile. I’m the Whore of Vineyard, remember?
“So, you’re saying you don’t know?” Lainey tried unsuccessfully to hide her disgust then chastised herself for being so judgmental.
Tessa shook her head.
“But she could be Colt’s, right?”
Again, Tessa shook her head. Colt’s not the father. End of story.
Then she disappeared, leaving Lainey alone in the room. “Tessa, come back here,” she demanded, knowing it wouldn’t happen.
Her head was swimming with unanswered questions. If Colt wasn’t Gracie’s father, then who was? Did Colt know the man?
It was too much to think about after a day like today. She tried to clear her mind and think about the job offer in Florida. Gracie’s image kept popping into her head.
She leaned back in the chair and propped her feet on the table. Then she reached for her fourth glass of Viognier and chugged it.
SIXTEEN
COLT SLID INTO THE chair behind his desk and exhaled. Talk about the day from hell.
“This just came in, Colt.”
He glanced up when Maddy laid a report on his desk. Despite her effort to come across as all business, Colt noticed her reddened eyes. He’d deal with that in a minute, he thought, reaching for the report.
Earlier, when Maddy had first suggested the possibility the cyanide could have been in the wine Tessa had drunk that night, he’d called the CSI lab about the pieces of glass recovered from the ruins at Tessa’s house. Although they hadn’t found any large chunks of the bottle, there were thousands of tiny shards. He’d almost felt their eyes rolling when he instructed them to test even the smallest pieces a second time, despite not holding out much hope they would find anything.
This report proved him wrong.
He made eye contact with Maddy, sure this was the cause of her pain. “You may have been right. They were able to find a trace of some substance other than the wine from a few of the shards.”
“When will we know for sure?”
“Probably in a few days.” He got up and walked around his desk to stand next to his ex-sister-in-law. “You’ve had a pretty rough day, Mad. Why don’t you go home and put your feet up. You’ve already stayed an hour past your shift.”
“I wanted to talk to you about this before I left.” She cleared her throat. “Does this mean Jerry killed my sister?” Her voice choked on the words.
Colt saw her tremble. “Not necessarily. We don’t even know if what they isolated from the glass was the poison. It could just be something that was added when they fermented the new wine.”
Colt’s eyes caught Danny Landers outside his office, pressing a piece of paper against the window and pointing excitedly.
“Now go home and relax. That’s an order.” He turned her body around and walked with her toward the door. “I promise I’ll let you know the minute I have confirmation from the lab.”
The second the door opened, Danny squeezed through. “Here’s what I got so far on the dumpster vic.”
When Maddy stopped, Colt gently nudged her. “Go home, Mad. You’re gonna have your hands full with Gracie and Jessie tonight. Gracie’s so excited, she’s piled all her stuffed animals into the sleeping bag.” He was grateful no one had told her about his suspicions that the latest victim might have something to do with the note under Lainey’s door or Porter’s death. He could never have talked her into leaving if she’d known. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
The minute the door closed, Danny handed his notes to Colt. “I ran his name through the database and found out he’s a small time hood from Waco.” He pointed to the printed list. “He’s got a sheet a mile long—everything from aggravated assault to man one. He just got out of Huntsville last December. Apparently, he’s got quite a temper. Roughed up a few of his fellow inmates while he was there.”
“Pull any phone records you find registered under his name,” Colt instructed. Although they hadn’t found a cell phone on Kenny Thornton’s body, maybe they’d get lucky and find a clue in his home phone records, that’s if he had a home.
When they’d confirmed a car in the parking lot at the Conquistador had been rented to the dead man that day, they’d been able to lift blood and hair samples along with some pretty decent prints. The blood and hair were still at the lab. Colt felt certain the DNA from the blood would come back as Porter’s since they’d found a can of black spray paint in the back seat of the car.
“What?” Colt asked, glancing up.
Danny hadn’t moved, a smug grin on his face as he showed Colt the other piece of pape
r he held. “I already pulled his phone records. Look.” He pointed to a Dallas number called four times from Thornton’s home phone. “Now check this out. Luckily, the guy’s cell phone was registered.” A grin covered Danny’s face as he showed Cole the mobile phone records. The same number was highlighted seven or eight times, the last one around one that morning.
“Good work, Danny.” Colt patted the young officer’s back. “I’m gonna make a good cop out of you yet.”
Landers beamed. “What’s next, Chief?”
“See if you can find out who Thornton was talking to in the Dallas area.”
“Already did. The number came from a throw-away.”
“Damn!” Colt let out a frustrated breath. No one said it would be easy, but he’d hoped they would catch a break.
He walked behind his desk and sat down, glancing once again at the phone records. “Try to find out where the prepaid phone came from, Danny. Maybe we’ll get lucky and some 7-Eleven cashier will remember who he sold it to.”
Landers raised an eyebrow in a good-luck-with-that look before he turned and exited the office, leaving Colt alone for the first time that day.
If his hunch was right, Thornton had killed Quinton Porter. But why? Obviously, the Waco man was a hired gun, but who wanted Porter dead? From the information he’d gathered from Jerry, Porter had ridden into town like an economic savior flashing big bucks at Jerry and possibly someone else. That is, if what Jerry said about the oilman having another deal in the works was true.
Maybe Porter’s death was a robbery gone bad. Colt picked up the file labeled with the Houston man’s name and scanned the report. Porter’s wallet had been in his back pocket when they discovered him, and it still held nearly a thousand bucks. It was highly unlikely the attack had been a robbery with that much cash untouched.
So, was there a connection between Thornton and the person who shoved the threatening note under Lainey’s hotel room door last night? Or was that just another coincidence? Maybe he was actually the one who left the note. Or maybe the Waco guy had really been just a drunk looking for his room. Wrong place, wrong time?
Colt shot down that theory quickly. The fact that Thornton was not a registered guest at the hotel plus the can of paint in his car ruled out coincidence. But what did all that have to do with Elaina Garcia?
At the thought of Lainey, Colt remembered he still had to confront her about sneaking around asking questions regarding Tessa’s murder. He glanced at his watch before straightening his arms over his head to stretch. It was after nine. No wonder he was tired. He’d still been awake at three that morning, unable to sleep, thinking about everything that had happened since Tessa died.
He stacked Landers’ notes and placed them in a blank folder. It would be a day or two before the test results started coming in. Scribbling Thornton’s name on the folder, he placed it next to Porter’s file.
Suddenly feeling his lack of shut eye, Colt got up and grabbed his jacket. Flipping the light off, he walked through the station, nodding to the night crew, busy at their desks. It was deceptively quiet now compared to the earlier excitement in here. Joe Saldonna, sleeping off a drunk and disorderly in the back cell, was the only action.
“See ya, boss,” Jeff Knight, the newest officer on the force, said as Colt passed. “We’ll call if something comes up we can’t handle.”
Colt smiled. “Try to hold down the fort, guys.” He exited the station and walked to his car, his instincts telling him he would hear from them before the night ended.
The words of his CSI echoed in his head as he slid into the front seat.
What the hell is going on in Vineyard?
_____
Colt toweled his hair dry and wrapped the terry cloth around his waist. The shower had given him a second wind, breathing new life into his weary body after an incredibly long day. Now all he needed was a cold Bud for his soul.
He started across the bedroom toward the dresser but got sidetracked at the window. The moon, two-thirds full, shone down on the pond in the pasture, its beams glistening like diamonds dancing on the surface.
Even though late March temperatures sometimes dipped into the low forties at night, Colt opened the window. The rush of cool Texas air coupled with the smell of turned earth in the adjacent field warmed his soul and reaffirmed his decision to plant his roots in this small corner of God’s country he called Gracie’s Acres.
He glanced toward the guest house to his right and noticed a light on in the kitchen. Lainey was still up even though it was after eleven. Pulling off the towel, he quickly threw on a pair of old jeans and his Cowboys jersey.
Might as well get this over with. He slicked back his wet hair with his hand, not wanting to waste time blow drying it.
Somehow, he had to convince Lainey to leave the investigating to him. Maybe if she found out about Porter and the hired gun, she’d finally realize someone out there wasn’t playing games.
He grabbed a beer on his way out the door and headed toward the guest house, unable to put his finger on why he felt like a pimply-faced teenager. Sure, his ex-sister-in-law was easy on the eyes, but he knew a lot of pretty woman. Hell, he’d even dated a few now and then, although then was probably a lot closer to the truth.
He stopped to pet Ginger, who had positioned herself at the bottom of the steps, which to a stranger might look like the first line of defense against an intruder. A smile formed on his lips thinking of Lainey teasing about his guard dogs. Half a second later, Fred rushed from the back of the house at a full clip and nearly knocked him on his butt, bombarding him with another round of wet kisses.
Teddy must be feeding them treats again, Colt thought as a whiff of dog breath blew his way. A retired farmer, Ted McDougal made extra cash mowing Colt’s lawn and keeping the few bushes around the perimeter from dying. Despite Colt’s warning he didn’t want the dogs to get fat, Ted couldn’t resist. Even carried treats in his truck without owning a dog himself.
Colt straightened and walked up the steps of the guest house. He knocked once lightly on the door, but after getting no response, tapped harder. Hearing a commotion inside that sounded much like a chair slamming against the wall, he stiffened, cursing that his gun was up in his bedroom locked in the nightstand.
The door flew open and a sleepy-looking Lainey, still wearing the turquoise blue sweater she’d had on earlier, stared out at him. “Hey, Colt.” She rubbed her eyes and stretched. “What’d you need?”
Colt tilted his head to see past her into the room. Convinced she wasn’t in danger, he allowed his shoulders to relax and concentrated on her face. Her shoulder-length hair had fallen across her eye, and she swiped at it almost comically. Up this close, he noticed her olive skin was smooth and nearly flawless, setting off her dark brown eyes.
He stepped between her and the door and walked into the room, picking up the chair that had fallen backwards, apparently when Lainey jumped up to answer the door.
“Sorry, it’s a mess,” she apologized. “I had a long day and must have dozed off.”
“You don’t say,” he drawled, semi-amused as he eyed the empty bottle of wine. “There’s not a chance Tessa’s wine had anything to do with it, right?”
She blushed, and he stifled a grin, mentally scolding himself for teasing her and enjoying it so much. She looked so irresistible when she was embarrassed.
“Okay, maybe I did have one glass too many, but believe me, Colt, you would have, too. It’s the best wine I’ve ever tasted.” She blushed again. “Sorry. There’s none left for you.”
He lifted his bottle of beer and took a long cold swig. “I’m not much of a wine guy.” He eyed her curiously. “Where’d you get it?”
“Where’d I get what?” She yawned again. “Sorry,” she said before she erupted into a fit of giggles. “I’d forgotten how little it takes to get me tipsy and how soon after the tipsy part the dozing off takes over.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, the wine
.” She looked away. “Maddy told me about the Viognier, and I stopped by and talked Paul into letting me try it. It’s as good as Tessa said it was.”
His eyebrows hitched.
“I mean as good as Maddy said Tessa told her it was.”
“So, did you ask the vintner if Jerry took a bottle of it to Tessa that night?”
Lainey burst out laughing.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“Nothing, really.”
When he stared daggers at her, she stopped laughing, but her eyes were unable to hide her obvious glee. “Okay, it’s your eyebrows. Are you aware only your left eyebrow hikes up when you’re mad?”
The beginning of a smile brought his eyebrow down. “Tessa used to tease me about that.” He glanced at the kitchen table. “Have you put anything in your stomach besides the wine?”
When she shook her head, he slid the grocery sack across the table and pulled out the Brie and a loaf of French bread. Then he walked over to the kitchen counter and retrieved the sharpest knife he could find.
Thank God, his mother had stocked the place before she had her surgery and moved in. He walked back to the table, pulled out a chair. “I haven’t eaten, either. Do you mind sharing?”
“I’m not hungry,” she said. “But you go ahead.”
“Sit, Lainey,” he commanded. “Unless you want to spend the rest of the night hugging the porcelain throne, you need to eat something.”
She did as he said and plopped down across the table from him. Feeling her eyes watching his every move, he unwrapped the Brie and cut away the hard white covering. Pulling a chunk of the bread from the loaf, he smeared the rich white cheese on it and handed it to her.
She hesitated only a moment before reaching for it and taking a bite. He watched her chew, enjoying the way her tongue flicked across her lips. By the time he had a piece ready for himself, she’d already devoured hers.
“Here.” He handed his bread to her. “I’d forgotten how much you can put away.”
Again she blushed, and again he scolded himself for enjoying it so much. He coated another piece of bread with the cheese and popped it into his mouth. Before long, the entire wedge was gone and only a small piece of bread remained. Colt couldn’t remember ever eating only bread and cheese and being this full. The French obviously knew what they were talking about.
Heard it Through the Grapevine Page 15
