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

by Gemma Halliday

  As soon as I hung up I decided another cup of coffee was in order before tackling the task of possibly the last payroll I'd be able to afford. I abandoned my desk for the kitchen and had just added copious amounts of sugar and cream to my cup, when my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out to see Ava's face lighting up my screen and swiped to take the call.

  "Hey," I said, sipping my coffee.

  "Hey, yourself. I wasn't sure if you'd be up."

  "It's ten thirty. Of course I'm up."

  "Well, I know you had a date with Grant last night, so I was kind of hoping you slept in…" She trailed off, the tone in her voice hinting that actual sleeping was not what she was envisioning.

  "I did not sleep in," I told her.

  "Did Grant?"

  "No," I said truthfully. "He was out early."

  "So he did sleep over, right?"

  I shook my head at my phone. "Okay, yes. We had a nice meal, and he stayed over."

  "And?" she prompted. "Details!"

  "And it was nice."

  "Wow. You really don't know the meaning of the word details do you?"

  I laughed in earnest. "Okay, it was really nice."

  Ava blew out a breath on the other end. "I give up. It's useless trying to live vicariously through your relationship."

  "I don't know if I'd call it a relationship," I hedged.

  "No?" Ava asked, and I could hear her shifting on her futon. "I thought you really liked him."

  "I do. I mean, yeah, he's great. I like him."

  "But…?"

  "I never said there was a but."

  "Girl, it was bigger than Kim Kardashian's."

  I couldn't help a chuckle. "Okay, fine. But, I'm just not sure how far this whole thing with Grant will go."

  "What do you mean?" she asked, the concern clear in her voice despite her teasing.

  "I mean…does Grant seem like the settling down type to you?"

  She thought about that for a beat before answering. "I don't know. Maybe he just hasn't met the right woman to settle down with until now."

  "Hmm," I said, sipping my coffee. "I don't know."

  "Did he say something last night?" Ava asked. "Did something happen?"

  "No." I paused, remembering our conversation from the night before. "I mean, not really. Nothing about us. It's just…he told me he knew Buckley."

  "So they did cross paths in San Francisco after all."

  I nodded. "Yeah, but why didn't he say anything before? I mean, why hide it?"

  "Well, did you ask him before?" Ava asked.

  "No. But doesn't it feel a little weird that he wouldn't have mentioned it?"

  Ava sighed. "Kind of?"

  "Yeah. That's what I thought." I took another sip from my coffee, but this one tasted bitter. "Grant also knew Buckley's former partner. Pretty well in fact," I said, filling her in on everything Grant had told me the night before.

  "So you think Buckley's death really does have to do with the bribery scandal?"

  "I don't know," I said honestly. "But I got the feeling Grant was holding something back. Especially when he talked about Eckhart."

  "You think he was trying to protect Eckhart?"

  I blew out a sigh. "Or maybe just cop instinct."

  "If Buckley did derail Eckhart's career, I could see him still being angry at Buckley," Ava said.

  "Not to mention feeling betrayed," I agreed.

  "Maybe even betrayed and angry enough to want Buckley dead."

  "But why wait two years?" I wondered out loud. "I mean, it seems like plenty of time to cool down."

  "Maybe it's just now sinking in how badly his career has been affected?" Ava offered. "Maybe he was recently passed up for detective? Or maybe it's just been festering for two years and finally hit a boiling point?"

  "Maybe," I hedged.

  "So when are you picking me up?" Ava asked.

  I raised my eyebrows at the phone. "Picking you up?"

  "Uh, duh. To drive to San Francisco and talk to Eckhart?"

  I shook my head. "Ava, he's a cop. You really think he's going to confess murder to a couple of nosey blondes?"

  "I'm sorry—nosey? Unh-uh. We're dedicated to the truth and diligently following every lead until we find it."

  I couldn't help a grin.

  "Besides," she went on, "at the very least we could ask him about Katy Kline, the notorious madame who is coincidentally out on bail now."

  I pursed my lips together, contemplating the logic in that move.

  But the truth was, between depressing payroll paperwork or a road trip to the city, it was kind of a no-brainer.

  "I'll be there in twenty," I promised her.

  * * *

  Buckley's former station was located in a two-story cement and brick building in a largely residential neighborhood of The City. While San Francisco might have boasted some of the most beautiful painted ladies and Victorian era buildings in the country, none of that intricate architecture was present in the utilitarian building squatting in the center of the block. I circled it three times before finding an empty spot on the street a block and a half down, beside a row of equally unimaginative homes stacked one upon the other like children's blocks. I put my parallel parking skills to the test, shimmying back and forth before finally connecting with the curb and shutting off the engine. We fed the meter and hoofed it back down the cracked sidewalk before walking to the front of the station.

  The interior of which was about as unimpressive as the outside. Plastic chairs sat in rows in a waiting room, and lots of glass and chrome created cage-like barriers between the public and the uniformed officers manning the reception counters and desks. The overall effect was like being in a zoo, though looking around at the rough looking crowd filling the plastic chairs, I wasn't sure which side held the animals.

  "Can I help you?" the woman in the uniform behind one of the cages asked. She had sleek black hair, pulled back in an elegant French braid, and pale smooth skin. With her clear blue eyes and painted red lips, she somehow reminded me more of Snow White than a hardened officer.

  "Hi…Lana," I said, reading her name badge. "We were hoping to speak with Officer Eckhart."

  "Is this in reference to an ongoing case?"

  "Yes, it is," Ava said, emphatically nodding.

  "Do you have a case number?"

  "Oh." She turned a questioning look to me. I shrugged. "Uh, no. We don't. But it involved a former officer, Bill Buckley."

  Lana frowned. "Buckley died in Sonoma, didn't he?" she said, clearly having kept up with recent news. "That's out of our jurisdiction."

  "Right," Ava agreed. "But we, uh, thought maybe we could talk to Eckhart about it."

  "So, this isn't about one of Officer Eckhart's cases?" Lana asked, narrowing her eyes at us.

  "Not really," I confessed.

  "But Emmy's boyfriend is an old friend of Eckhart's," Ava piped up.

  I shot her a look.

  "Your boyfriend?" Lana asked.

  "Uh, well, we're just kind of dating…casually. I'm not sure I'd label." I realized Lana was not fishing for my relationship status so much as a name. I cleared my throat. "Uh, his name is Grant. Detective Christopher Grant."

  "You're dating Grant?" The woman's whole demeanor changed, the suspicion in her eyes being replaced by a twinkle of amusement.

  "Uh, yeah. You know him?" I asked.

  "Oh, honey, we all knew Grant," she said with a laugh.

  My turn to frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Nothing, nothing," she said, backpedaling as she shook her head. "How is our Chris these days?"

  I felt my frown deepen. I'd never known anyone to call Grant Chris before, let alone our Chris, and I suddenly wondered just how well she'd known him. "He's…fine. Good."

  "Wow, it's been forever since I've seen Chris." She was smiling, still shaking her head. "In fact last time I saw him was at the Halloween bonfire a couple years ago. We all got so drunk that night." She laughed at the m
emory.

  "Grant was drunk?" I didn't think I'd ever seen him drink more than a couple of glasses of wine or a single cocktail.

  "Oh, yeah." She nodded, her braid swishing behind her. "Plastered enough to suggest we all go skinny dipping. Boy, was that a good idea." She giggled loudly.

  Giggled. As if picturing my boyfriend naked.

  I felt my eyes narrowing.

  "Hey, did he ever tell you how he got that scar on his butt?" Lana asked.

  I took a deep breath in, trying hard not to throttle the woman with the gun talking about my boyfriend's butt. "No," I said slowly. "What scar?"

  "The one shaped like a little crescent moon right next to his—" She seemed to suddenly remember where she was and who she was talking to, as she shook her head and waved her hands. "Never mind. Anyway, it's a cute story. Ask him to tell you sometime."

  "I'll do that," I ground out.

  "Uh, anyway, is Officer Eckhart available?" Ava asked, pulling us back on track.

  "Right. Sure." Lana wiped the smirk off her face with difficulty. "He's here. Let me just go see if he's free, huh?" she said, suddenly all helpful smiles after the trip down memory lane.

  "This feels weird," I said to Ava once we were alone.

  "What? Being in a police station?" she asked, glancing around at the caged walls.

  "No. Going behind Grant's back like this. Talking to people who…"

  "Have apparently seen him naked?" Ava finished for me.

  "Yeah. That."

  Ava shook her head. "Look, it's not like we're sneaking around. We're here in a police station in broad daylight. We're not doing anything wrong."

  "I know. It just…feels intrusive. You know? Like…he's never told me about some moon scar."

  Ava shrugged. "Maybe it just never came up."

  "Seems to have come up with the fairest of us all," I muttered, gesturing to Lana's empty seat.

  Ava snorted. "She does kinda look like Snow White."

  "Anyway, I'm just not sure we should—"

  But that was as far as I got before Lana reappeared, still all smiles. "Officer Eckhart says he has a few minutes free now. Wanna follow me back?"

  "Absolutely," Ava said, giving me a nudge.

  I shut my mouth, reluctantly following her as Lana buzzed us through a pair of security doors and led the way down a short hallway filled with lots of rooms filled with people in uniform doing what they did to protect and serve. She stopped at the second to last doorway on the left, gesturing toward it. "He's in there," she said before gliding back down the hall the way she'd come.

  Ava and I stepped through the open doorway, Ava knocking on the doorframe as we did. "Officer Eckhart?"

  The room was small, windowless, and just big enough to hold a gunmetal grey desk and a pair of upholstered chairs in front of it. A large, square monitor sat on the desk, perching like an ancient piece of machinery next to a handful of framed photos. Behind the desk sat a man in uniform, who rose as we entered the room.

  "Hi. Come on in." His tone was welcoming to match his words. He looked to be a few years older than Grant, even if they had come up through the ranks together, and his dark hair was already dusted with hints of grey at the temples. Fine lines sat at the corners of his eyes as he smiled jovially at us. "Officer Mason Eckhart," he said, shaking hands with each of us in turn.

  "Ava Barnett. And this is my friend Emmy Oak."

  "Hi," I said.

  Eckhart gestured to a pair of chairs in front of the desk for us to sit as he took his place behind it again. "Lana said you knew Grant?"

  "Uh, yeah," I said. "I know him. I mean, we both know him, but I…well…know him better. I guess."

  Eckhart gave me a funny look but let it go. "How is that old dog doing up in Wine Country?"

  "Well," I said, clearing my throat in an attempt to clear out that sneaking-behind-his-back feeling. "He's well."

  "I haven't heard from him in forever," Eckhart said, leaning back in his chair. "Guess he's too busy protecting all those precious grapes, huh?" He winked and chuckled at his own joke.

  "He has been busy," I told him. "In fact, that's kind of why we're here."

  "Oh?" Eckhart asked, jovial smile still in place.

  "Grant is investigating the death of a former officer. Your partner, I believe. Bill Buckley?"

  The smile finally faded. "Ah. I see."

  "Has he been in contact with you about it?" I asked.

  "Grant?" Eckhart shook his head. "No. But, I, uh, read about Buckley's death. Heck of a thing."

  "He was actually killed in my vineyard," I told him.

  "Really." Something unreadable flashed behind his eyes. "Your vineyard?"

  I nodded. "My family owns Oak Valley Vineyards. I'd just hired Buckley to provide some extra security for me."

  Eckhart let out a short laugh on a breath of air. "So Buckley was working as a security guard, huh?" He shook his head. "Poor Buckley."

  "I take it you two didn't part on the best of terms," Ava said slowly.

  "You could say that." Eckhart leaned back in his chair again, the pose deceptively casual as his eyes slowly went from Ava to me, as if assessing how much to share. "I'm assuming you know all about the reason Buckley left the force."

  "I heard he was caught taking bribes," I said.

  Eckhart nodded. "Hard to believe he'd be that stupid, but there you have it."

  "What do you know about the woman who was bribing him?" Ava asked.

  Eckhart turned his gaze toward her. "A modern day madame. I'm sure you two have read about her in the papers?"

  I nodded politely, even though everything we knew had come from Google just the day before.

  "She was running an escort service out of a storefront on our beat," Eckhart went on. "Drake's Butcher Shop. Guys would go in for a chuck roast and apparently come out with a happy ending, if you know what I mean." He chuckled again at his own wit.

  "I'm assuming you didn't know this at the time," Ava said.

  "No. Gosh, no. It just looked like one busy butcher shop to me. But, I guess Buckley got wind that it was more than that somehow, and well…" Eckhart's smile faded. "Well, he decided to capitalize on that intel."

  "How long was this going on?" I asked.

  Eckhart shrugged. "Few months. Maybe a year."

  And right under Eckhart's nose. I could well see why he'd lost the respect of his fellow officers if he'd been oblivious the whole time.

  "And you knew nothing about it until Internal Affairs started to investigate?" I pressed.

  "No, I did not," he said emphatically, and I got the feeling it was a question he'd been asked to answer many times. "In fact, the first I heard of any of it was when I was called into IA's offices and put on suspension."

  "Ouch. They suspended you just like that?" Ava asked.

  "Just like that." Eckhart nodded. "But, you know, what can you do?"

  "How long were you on suspension?"

  "Six months."

  Which was a lot longer than I'd envisioned. Somehow I'd had it in my mind that Buckley had been caught, confessed, and it had all gone away. "Was this without pay?" I clarified.

  Eckhart sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah. At the time. But it was all paid after the fact when Buckley admitted he'd worked alone. So, more like a paid vacation." He grinned and gestured to a framed photo on his desk that featured him in a grey vest and tall boots, standing beside a pine tree somewhere mountainous. "I did some fishing. Took a hunting trip with some friends. Ended up bagging a few rabbits even. So really"—he spread his hands wide—"no harm done in the end."

  No harm, except that he was sitting behind a desk in officer blues while his peers, like Grant, had made detective.

  "Did you and Buckley keep in touch?" I asked.

  "No." He shook his head. "No, once I found out what he'd done, that was it. I was done with the guy."

  "That must have been hard," Ava said, her voice laced with sympathy. "I mean, having someone you're so
close to—someone you trust—betray you like that."

  That flash of emotion flicked behind his eyes again, but he quickly covered it with a loud sniff and a shift in his seat. "Buckley betrayed us all. Everyone who wears the uniform."

  "But he was your partner," I said, trying to mirror Ava's tone.

  Though I wasn't sure it quite worked, as his gaze whipped my way.

  "How did you say you know Grant, again?" Eckhart asked, suspicion entering into his tone.

  "She's dating him," Ava said.

  Eckhart's eyebrows rose. "That so?"

  I nodded, feeling more than a little self-conscious under his assessing gaze. "Well, we're…friends."

  He smirked. "Yeah, Grant always did have a lot of friends."

  Lana's flawless face suddenly popped into my mind, and I resisted the urge to ask if she'd been among them.

  "Grant tell you we were rookies together?" Eckhart asked.

  I nodded. "He spoke very highly of you," I said honestly.

  "Yeah?" Eckhart smiled and nodded. "Well, Grant was a heck of an officer himself. Had kind of his own playbook, if you know what I mean."

  "Oh?" I asked, not able to stem my curiosity. "How so?"

  "Just that the guy knew how to work the system. Play the game."

  While the trite allusions were fun, my blank expression must have told him I wasn't quite getting his meaning.

  "Grant knew exactly how to get the confessions he needed. Where to look for the evidence and get it to stick."

  A distinctly uncomfortable feeling started to creep into the pit of my stomach. "You mean he worked hard?" I clarified.

  There was that smirk again. "I mean he worked smart."

  I wasn't sure exactly what he was insinuating, but that feeling in my gut was growing.

  "He tell you why he moved to Sonoma?" Eckhart asked, and I could have sworn there was something of a taunt in his smile this time.

  I licked my lips, sending an uneasy glance Ava's way. "He said there was a shooting."

  Eckhart nodded. "There was. Did he tell you it was a kid?"

  "Grant shot a kid?" Ava breathed out on a gasp.

  My stomach dropped, and I suddenly had the urge to plug my ears as Eckhart continued nodding.