Grapes of Death by Joni Folger Page B

work to baby-sit me. I’ll be fine, really.”
    â€œAll right,” he said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “But if you change your mind, you just have to ask, and I’ll come.”
    â€œThank you, sweetie. I’ll keep that in mind.”
    She spent the next forty-five minutes filling Stuart in on how it had all gone down. He had been very understanding, agreeing that she shouldn’t leave her family in this time of loss for something as silly as a dinner party, which made her feel worse in light of her reaction to his offer of support. By the time she hung up, her head was throbbing like a bass drum.
    Turning, she caught sight of Chunk studying her from the Papasan chair.
    â€œDon’t start with me, mister. You don’t even like Stuart, and you know it. Having him here right now is not in either of our best interests. Besides, this whole situation is going to get very ugly before it’s finished, I just know it.”

Five
    Though the week may have started off with a bang, the remainder of it flew by without further incident, and given the circumstances, seemed to end on a whimper.
    Like the rest of the family, Elise tried to put her uncle’s disturbing sudden death out of her mind. They had yet to hear anything from the Travis County Medical Examiner, and she was trying to stay optimistic. As Jackson had put it, to worry about the outcome was pointless. But nothing could be done and no arrangements could be made pending the ME’s ruling. Until then, Uncle Edmond couldn’t be laid to rest and they were all in a state of limbo, but it was funny how the oddest little thing brought it to mind when you were the least prepared.
    Like the paystubs and gambling markers that she’d pilfered from Edmond’s house and kept stumbling across every time she opened her purse. Sooner rather than later, she’d have to mention them to the rest of the family. At the very least she should have discussed them with Ross by now, but she’d been waiting for the right moment.
    So she’d tried not to think about the situation for most of the week, preferring to concentrate on her hybrids. The latest batch was coming along well, and she hoped to have starts ready for transplant by the first of the month. The young vines would replace the rows Carlos and his crew would remove as soon as Jackson cleared the area where Edmond’s body was found.
    In time, her hybrids would produce a stellar grape, giving River Bend a leg up in the market. Drought- and disease-resistant, their predecessors were already in the ground at the south end of the vineyard and would hopefully yield a unique grape for an exceptional wine within the next couple of years.
    Until that time, she was holding the specifics of her process very close to the vest. Even Stuart had jokingly called her paranoid when she refused to give him details.
    Maybe she was being paranoid, but she wasn’t about to have all her hard work and innovation stolen before seeing it come to fruition. It wasn’t that she was worried Stuart would steal from her, but all it would take is one slip at the wrong time to the wrong person and she could potentially lose everything she’d worked toward.
    As Friday rolled around, Elise was ready for some major R&R. With all that had happened, combined with having to wait on the ME’s office, it had been quite the stressful week. She and C.C. had plans that night with several other women for a girl’s night out. Elise intended on leaving work early and was just about to pack it in when Ross swung into the greenhouse.
    â€œYou’re still here?” he asked. “I was sure you’d be gone by now.”
    â€œI was just about ready to head home and change clothes. I take it you’re knocking off early today too?”
    â€œYep. I’m beat. I needed a break to get my circulation moving again. I’ve been sitting in one place looking at rows of figures