Backstabbing in Beaujolais (Winemaker Detective Book 9) Read Free

winery, and three-car garage. The 17.5 hectares of vineyards include several appellations d’origine controllée – Régnié: 10 ha; Morgon: 2.5 ha; Beaujeu: 3 ha; Brouilly: 2 ha. Asking price: 3,200,000 euros, plus real estate taxes and 5% agency fee.
    Guillaume Périthiard folded the paper and slipped it into a pocket. He stared into Solène’s turquoise eyes, and a carnivorous grin spread across his face.

3
    Benjamin Cooker always paid attention to signs. They were highly instructive. The way Guillaume Périthiard drove his Maserati GranSport, for example, told him a lot about the man. Périthiard’s turns were smooth and always anticipated, which indicated he had a rational approach to life. He didn’t leave anything to chance. He was determined, perhaps overly so, and always set on overcoming the obstacles in his way. He would use any bumps in the road to his advantage and, if needed, cut corners. To follow him, one had to pay close attention.
    Benjamin had no intention of letting his client get the better of him. He stepped on the gas.
    “Tell me, Virgile…”
    “Yes?”
    “Have you ever noticed how the way a person drives says a lot about who they are?”
    “I might agree with you on that score, boss. I know the day I interviewed for my job with you, I forgot to release the emergency brake for a good ten kilometers, stalled at every red light, and cut off a school bus.”
    “You didn’t seem that nervous when you arrived for the appointment.”
    “Nervous isn’t the word. Terrified sums it up. It’s hard to drive with all that adrenaline running through your veins.” Virgile opened the window and looked out. “Now that we’re talking about not being in great shape, you didn’t seem to be yourself this morning.”
    “I didn’t want to be late. I looked into our fellow’s background, and he seems to be a stickler for details of that sort.”
    “As much as you are?”
    The winemaker frowned and pressed down on the gas pedal.
    “That’s likely, Virgile. I may have even found my master. According to the gossip, nothing escapes the man, and he can be extremely punctilious with his partners.”
    “That’s perfect then. He’ll have his hands full with us.”
    “What are you insinuating?”
    Virgile stuck his head out the window and took a deep breath, like a hunting dog sniffing out its prey. Then he turned back to Benjamin. “I mean that he can try all he likes to challenge us. But when he sees how we work, he’ll find out that his standards aren’t nearly as high as ours.”
    “I like your confidence, Virgile. And it’s not unwarranted. Périthiard didn’t pick Cooker & Co. from a hat. He’s perfectly aware of our reputation.”
    The winemaker and his assistant fell silent. They entered the village of Régnié-Durette and sped past the church with two steeples, a symbol of the cru, and continued west, toward the hills. Périthiard wasn’t slowing down, and he was making tighter and tighter turns.
    Finally, without bothering to use his signal, Périthiard swerved and hit the brakes in front of a rusty gate. Benjamin carefully pulled up behind him, wondering how much damage he had done to his shock absorbers during their drive. He watched as Périthiard got out of his car, walked around it, and opened the passenger-side door. Out came a spike heel, then an exquisite calf, an elegant knee, and the beginnings of a shapely thigh that a black silk skirt refused to entirely uncover. Benjamin heard Virgile gulp as Solène Chavannes exited the car with studied grace.
    “Careful, son,” Benjamin whispered. “Don’t let the man see you drool.”
    “The view is magnificent, isn’t it,” Périthiard said, turning away from his companion and sweeping his arm over the landscape.
    “Yes,” Benjamin said. “Fine southeastern exposure. The orientation is perfect, and the soil is a fine pink granite. I’d say this is a good start.”
    Solène slid a heavy key into the lock and twisted it this way