Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery) (18 page)

eighteen

Jackson spent the first
two hours of his morning with Jim Stockton, going over the evidence and what they knew so far about both murders. He had a sense that a more recent connection between Divia Larson and Grace Vanderhouse was present, but couldn’t for the life of him see it.

In the meantime, they’d reinterview the key suspects. And they’d
start with the three Toussaints, because he had questions, and he wanted more satisfying answers than he’d gotten from them so far.

The first time he’d spoken with the French vintners had been a very casual affair—and with them all together—out at the festival. This time would be different. He and Jim were interviewing them separately at the station—starting with Alain, who was waiting in Room One. Jackson felt that the older Toussaint brother was the weak link in the chain.

A chain Jackson intended to break.

“Thank you for coming in on such short notice, Mr. Toussaint,” Jackson said as he entered the interrogation room and sat down at the table facing the man.

“Since you’ve forbade us to return home, we didn’t have much of a choice,
n’est-ce-pas?”

Jackson studied the man’s demeanor—his abrupt attitude and defiant posture. It was obvious the Frenchman thought he and his family were in the clear.

We’ll just see how that goes for y’all, pal.

“I guess that’s true,” Jackson replied. “But then we are smack-dab in the middle of a couple of murder investigations.”

Alain shrugged. “I don’t see what that has to do with me. I knew Mrs. Larson only slightly, and I didn’t know the other woman at all.”

Jim closed the door, then sat down next to Jackson and leaned forward. “You might want to back that up a bit. Don’t want to dig yourself any deeper into a hole by lyin’, my friend.”

“By lying?” Alain’s mouth dropped open and he made a show of his outrage. “I don’t think I like your insinuation, Deputy!”

Jackson put up a hand before the confrontation could get them off track. “See, it’s just that there are some inconsistencies in what you and the other members of your family told us in our earlier interview. And we need to clear them up.”

“What are you talking about? What sort of inconsistencies?” A wary look crossed Alain’s face, and Jackson caught the briefest scent of fear in his tone.

“Let’s talk about Divia Larson first,” Jackson suggested. “You say you barely knew her, but that’s not the case, is it? Isn’t it true that you were having an affair with the woman?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

“Before you start denying and backpedaling,” Jim warned, “You should be advised that we have several statements confirming the affair, one of which is from your own wife.”

Alain opened and closed his mouth a few times without speaking, and his confused anger was apparent. “All right, fine!” he said at length, waving a hand in the air. “I had a brief fling with the woman and then ended it. What of it? That’s not a crime, is it?”

“No, but murder is,” Jim said with a slight smile.

“
Murder?”
Alain replied with raised eyebrows. “How did we go from a concluded affair to murder?”

“You said you ended it with Mrs. Larson, but that isn’t quite factual, now is it?” The deputy shrugged. “And weren’t you having a hard time getting out of the affair? Well, that’s a pretty good starting point for motive. Add in opportunity, and how do you say it? Oh yeah,
voilà!
”

Alain made a face. “You’re quite amusing, Deputy. And your French pronunciation is atrocious.”

“Maybe. But the fact remains that Divia Larson wasn’t letting you go as easily as you’d like us to believe, correct?”

“Ach! Very well. If you must know, it’s true that Divia was being
…


difficult. She wasn’t as ready to end it as I was, but it’s hardly a reason to kill her. It made absolutely no difference.”

Jackson looked up from the file folder he’d been perusing. “Not even when she threatened to go to your wife with it if you didn’t fall into line?”

“Who told you that?” Alain asked and the stricken look that crossed his face was almost comical.

“But what you didn’t know at that time was that Monique already knew and was just biding her time with the information,” Jim continued, ignoring the man’s panicked question.

Jackson watched the emotions flood the man’s face one after the other and knew that he and Jim were on the right path. “You might as well come clean with it all, Alain. When did you find out that your wife knew about the affair?”

Toussaint heaved a sigh and rubbed his forehead as if a headache might be brewing there. “I found out shortly before coming here for the festival—when Monique threw it in my face, along with the fact that she was having an affair of her own
…
with Divia’s son.”

“Seriously?” Jim’s surprise was evident, though he tried to hide it. “Your wife was having an affair with Toby Raymond? Why?”

“
Oui
, I assure you, as distasteful as it may sound, I am most serious.” A look of disdain passed over the Frenchman’s face. “And as to why? I would think that was obvious. She did it to get back at me, of course. That, and to try to find something she could use to destroy Divia’s life.”

“But why was she so bent on destroying Divia’s life? Why not just
tell Garrett about the affair?” Jackson asked. “Why go to such lengths
to dig up more dirt?”

Toussaint brushed at his jacket sleeve and sat back in his chair with a smirk on his face. “Because my wife is a vindictive, hateful bitch, Deputy Landry. And because Garrett Larson already knew about the affair.”

“What?” Jim asked, and this time he didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “How do you know that?”

“Monique told him, didn’t she?” Jackson asked and was baffled when the man laughed out loud.

“Yes, she went to him with the information, thinking he would be outraged.”

“And that’s funny?” Jim asked.

“
Absolument!
” he said and continued to chuckle. “It was her first
volley, you see, but it missed the mark because somehow Garrett had found out beforehand. He told her he was sorry if the circumstances caused her pain, but to be patient. He said the affair would blow over soon enough, but obviously that wasn’t as accurate as he’d hoped. Monique was furious.”

“And you don’t know how he found out?” Jim asked. “Do you think
Mrs. Larson told him?”

“Doubtful. But I don’t think Divia would’ve cared one way or another. She was only using Garrett Larson for his money and the prestige of being a vineyard owner’s wife. In any case, she was as selfish and vain as my wife is vindictive and manipulative.”

Jackson nodded and then pinned the man with a steely gaze. “If you have such contempt for your wife, then why give her an alibi?” He tilted his head and regarded Toussaint as another thought dawned on him. “Or was the alibi for you? Because we both know you weren’t together on Friday night when Divia Larson was murdered. And before you dispute that fact, know that we have a witness that saw Monique and your brother just before the time of Divia’s death
…
but not you.”

It was a bluff, but to Jackson’s surprise, the man didn’t even blink. “No, you’re correct. We weren’t together Friday night, but we thought it would be best—less awkward for everyone involved—if we said that we were.”

“Less awkward. Uh-huh. Well, since we’ve established that you had motive, I’m going to need to know where you were and if there’s anyone to corroborate your story,” Jackson replied. “Because I gotta tell ya, it sounds like you might’ve had ample opportunity as well.”

Toussaint frowned and waved a hand in the air again, as if swatting away an annoying insect. “I was with a dancer friend of mine in Austin all afternoon and into the evening. I didn’t get back to the motel until the early hours of the morning.” Pulling out a business card, he took Jim’s pen from him and scribbled on the back before handing it to Jackson. “Here is my friend’s name and number. Claudette will corroborate my story, I assure you. Now, am I free to go?”

“Sure
…
for now,” Jackson said, but thought of something else before the man got to the door. “One more question, Alain. Where were you on Sunday afternoon between two and three o’clock?”

Toussaint shrugged. “Monique and I were both helping to pack up the booth. There are several employees who will confirm that for you.”

Jackson waited until the man had left the room and closed the door behind him before turning to Jim with a questioning look. “So? What do you think?”

Jim shook his head and looked as if he’d just smelled a rotten odor. “I think that’s pretty messed up all the way around. You got him doing the neighbor’s wife, his wife doing the neighbor’s wife’s son. And I don’t think I even want to know what’s going on between his wife and his brother.”

“Yeah, I’m right there with you, buddy.” He held up the business card that Alain had given him. “And if this pans out, it means we can take at least one of the Toussaints out of the suspect pool. Now, let’s go see about the other two.”

Over in Interview Two, Alain’s brother, Philippe, proved to be a tougher nut to crack. He was surly, arrogant, and tight-lipped. About the only thing they got out of him at first was that he thought Alain was an idiot, that he was in love with Monique, and that he was in Austin playing golf with clients on Sunday afternoon.

He did say one thing of interest at the end of the interview, though
. He told them he and Monique had been dining at a friend’s house in Smithville on Friday night. And though he didn’t give much detail, he did let it slip that said friend just happened to be a lawyer. Jackson wasn’t sure if he’d mentioned the lawyer on purpose thinking they would tread more carefully, or if he’d done it by accident. But he was leaning toward accidental, because Philippe Toussaint didn’t strike him as the brightest bulb in the lighting array.

When questioned further about the specifics of their dining extravaganza, the Frenchman clammed up and refused to say another word.
However,
it gave Jackson an idea to run with when they went into Interview Room Three to speak with Monique, whom they’d intentionally saved for last.

“It’s about damn time,” she said with a huff before they could even sit down. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting in this horrible little room?”

“Sorry for the inconvenience, Mrs. Toussaint,” Jim said smoothly. “We got hung up chatting with your husband and your brother-in-law. They had a few very interesting things to say.”

“Really?” she asked in a doubtful tone. “Like what?”

Jackson leaned forward and laced his fingers on the table in front of him. “Well, for one thing, that y’all lied about your alibi, Monique, which we already knew. And for another, that you had motive and opportunity to poison Divia Larson.”

That statement set off a barrage of heated French and fist pound
ing from the woman that was amusing and at the same time a little scary. It had both Jax and Jim backing away slightly, just in case.

When it didn’t seem like she was going to finish up anytime soon, Jackson put a hand up and spoke over the top of her yammering. “Look, you can continue to yell at us in French—which will get you nowhere—or you can simply tell us where you were on Friday night between six-forty-five and seven-fifteen.”

Jackson watched her closely, and thought that, as angry as she was, her head might explode. Whether he wanted it or not, he had a very clear picture in his mind of what that might look like. Her face was flushed and her eyes were shooting daggers at him, but at least she’d stopped shouting. After a moment she finally took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I did not kill that terrible woman, though I am not at all sad that she is dead.”

“You realize your statement doesn’t instill a whole lot of confidence, right?” Jim asked, tongue-in-cheek.

Monique glared at him.

“Come on, Monique,” Jackson said, drawing her attention away from poor Jim, who was looking more uncomfortable by the second. “Alain already told us that you were having an affair with Toby Raymond, and that you were looking for a way to destroy Divia. He also said that the alibi y’all gave was a load of manure. Care to give us your side of the story?”

Monique studied her manicure for a few moments and just when Jackson thought she’d clam up as well, she spoke. “It’s true. I was having an affair with that imbecile, Toby Raymond. But only to get back at my husband.”

“And to dig up dirt to use against Divia?” Jim asked, and was rewarded with another glare.

“I thought telling Garrett Larson of his wife’s infidelity would do the trick, but he already knew. He told me to be patient.” She gave Jackson a wicked smile. “I am not the most patient of women. So I seduced Toby to torment my husband, yes, but also in hopes of finding something with which to ruin her selfish little world.”

“And you found something you thought would be perfect, didn’t
you?” Jackson asked on a hunch.

Her wicked smile grew to a grin. “Toby gets very talkative when he’s had too much to drink. That stupid, stupid man was stealing from the vineyard, and he
…
how do you say
…
spilled the beans?”

“Toby was embezzling from Third Coast and fixing the books? Is that what you’re saying?” Jim asked for clarification.

“
Oui
. He begged me not to tell, but I told him that I would as soon as I felt the time was right. He was very unhappy with me. I planned to tell Garrett what his step-son was doing, but I wanted to torment Divia with the news first.”

Jackson nodded. “Which you did on Thursday during your little
scuffle, but did you get around to telling Garrett?”