Of Merlot & Murder (A Tangled Vines Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

arrived, with the exception of a few late-comers. Third Coast Winery was one such straggler. The Larsons had yet to turn up, but Elise was certain that they’d be arriving shortly. There was no way Divia Larson would miss a chance to preen and bad-mouth the competition, especially after the fit she’d thrown over the placement of their booth.
    “For the first round of tastings I chose the Lenoir, Syrah, and the Cab for the reds,” Abigail said, bringing Elise’s attention back to business. “I thought for white, the Blanc du Bois and the Semillon. Which do you think would be best for the third pick? The Chenin Blanc or the Riesling?”
    Elise wandered over and leaned on the counter. “Since the Semillon is fairly dry, I think the Riesling instead of the Chenin Blanc. We can always open something else if there’s a request. I see you brought a few cases of the Private Reserve, too. Good thinkin’, Gram.”
    “Well, I always say, put your best foot forward. Just in case.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Hey, El.”
    Hearing her name called, Elise looked up the midway toward the entrance and watched C.C. approach with another woman.
    “Sorry I wasn’t here right away,” C.C. said as they walked up to the booth. “I had to go to the Extension office first thing. Got hung up there longer than I’d planned. I swear those yahoos I work with wouldn’t know what to do without me. Oh, El, do you know Grace Vanderhouse?”
    Elise looked at the other woman and smiled. “No, I don’t think we’ve met, have we?”
    “No, I don’t think so,” Grace replied. “Nice to meet you. I love your wine, by the way. We serve it at my restaurant.”
    “Grace is executive chef at The Plough in Austin,” C.C. added.
    “Oh, yeah? I love that restaurant,” Elise said. “I’ve eaten there several times. The last time I was there I had a very tasty game pie, and the summer pudding I ordered for dessert was to die for.”
    Grace laughed, obviously pleased with the compliments. “The owner is a Brit and very persnickety about his menu. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
    “Grace, this is Miss Abigail DeVries, Elise’s grandmother. Miss Abby, this is Grace Vanderhouse,” C.C. said, making the introductions.
    Grace shook Abigail’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Abby.”
    “Likewise.”
    “The restaurant’s booth is about halfway down the food aisle.” C.C. nodded in that direction, before turning back to Elise and wiggling her eyebrows. “I thought we could head over for a taste around the lunch hour.”
    “Absolutely. I look forward to it,” Elise agreed with a nod, then looked up the thoroughfare and frowned. “Oh, crap. Here come the Larsons. I’d started to hope that they’d decided not to come.”
    As a group, they watched Divia Larson strut toward them wearing a skirt a couple of inches too short for a woman of her age and a blouse showing ample cleavage. Fortunately, the weather had warmed up since Monday’s norther had blown through or she’d be freezing her butt off in that outfit. The woman was too tan, too thin, and wearing way too much makeup, in Elise’s opinion. With her husband trailing in her wake, she worked both sides of the midway like a pro.
    “Guess we couldn’t be that lucky, huh?” C.C. shook her head at the spectacle.
    “Guess not.”
    “And would you look at that fake smile?”
    “Who are the Larsons?” Grace asked with a curious glance.
    Elise made a face. “Garrett and Divia Larson own Third Coast Winery down south.”
    “ Divia ?” Grace repeated in a surprised tone, and watched the Larsons draw near with an odd look on her face.
    “Do you know them, Grace?” C.C. asked, noticing her friend’s intense reaction to the couple.
    “Huh? Oh, no. No,” Grace said, shaking her head and dismissing the Larsons. “Divia is just an unusual name, that’s all.”
    “Yes, it is. And I should probably apologize. You must think we’re terrible, talking that way about the competition,”