Grapes of Death by Joni Folger Page B

than going inside with you.”
    â€œYou know, if we get caught doing this, we’ll probably be in big trouble—maybe even be charged with obstruction or tampering with evidence or some stupid thing.”
    C.C. laughed out loud at that. “Please. Let them try to pull something that pathetic. This is your uncle’s house, and I don’t see any crime scene tape. So I say, as long as we aren’t picking the lock or smashing a window to get inside, we’re not actually breaking and entering.”
    She unearthed two pairs of latex gloves from the depths of the huge bag she called a purse and dangled them in front of Elise’s face. “Of course, I’d rather not get caught. Just to be on the safe side, we should probably wear these so as not to leave any prints behind.”
    Elise grinned. This was one of the reasons C.C. was her BFF. The woman was always willing to jump into Elise’s latest adventure with both feet, regardless of the consequences. That, to her mind, was the definition of a true friend. “Wow, you really came prepared.”
    â€œYou bet,” C.C. replied with a wink. “I was a Girl Scout, you know. Now let’s get this party started, shall we?”
    They each snapped on their gloves, climbed from the car, and headed for the house.
    â€œUncle Edmond rarely locked his door, but just in case, I think there’s a key hidden somewhere in that overgrown planter on the porch.”
    But as they reached the porch, they saw that the door was standing slightly ajar and they didn’t need a key.
    â€œOkay, that’s kinda creepy,” C.C. said and stepped behind Elise. “You go first.”
    â€œDon’t be such a wuss. The last person out probably just didn’t get the door closed properly and it blew open with the wind or something, that’s all.”
    â€œUh-huh. I repeat, you go first.”
    Elise shot a glance over her shoulder. “What happened to ‘Let’s get this party started’?”
    C.C. jiggled her eyebrows up and down, and her dark brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “I said I was up for some sleuthing; I didn’t say I wouldn’t be a wuss about it if we ran across some creepiness.”
    â€œOh, brother.”
    Elise gave the door a push, and the prolonged creak the door made as it swung open sent a chill down her back. When she made no attempt to enter, C.C. nudged her shoulder.
    â€œWhat are you waiting for?”
    â€œI’m going. Don’t push me.”
    Moving into the dim light of the living room, she took a cursory look around and then glanced back at her friend. “See. Nothing out of the ordinary here, just an average living room.”
    C.C. stepped inside and immediately wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, a really filthy, disgusting, and smelly living room. My God, Edmond was a pig!”
    â€œI know. It’s pretty bad, so let’s get this done and get the hell out of here as fast as we can.” She pointed to the right. “You take that end of the disgusting living room, and I’ll start over here in the nasty dining area.”
    They spent thirty minutes going through the enormous amount of crap that Edmond had accumulated and evidently felt compelled to keep. Random stacks of papers—which seemed to be piled in every damn corner—contained everything from old letters to delinquent bills to more gambling markers and paystubs.
    â€œI think Uncle Edmond may have been spying on River Bend for someone,” Elise said and held up a fairly recent copy of a book on grape varieties and hybridization. “And it looks like he was doing a little research to boot.”
    C.C. looked up from the heap of paperwork she was digging through and frowned. “What makes you think he was spying for someone? Maybe he was just boning up in case your mom caved and gave him his own slice of the pie.”
    Elise snorted and went back to sorting. “Besides