Backstabbing in Beaujolais (Winemaker Detective Book 9) Read Free Page A

and that before the mechanism finally gave way. The gate squealed and resisted as she tried to push it open. It took Virgile no more than a couple of seconds to leap over and help. He put his shoulder to the gate and used all his weight to force it open.
    Benjamin smiled. The boy never missed an opportunity to impress a good-looking woman.
    “This property pleases me enormously, Mrs. Chavannes,” Périthiard said, starting down the hornbeam-lined driveway leading to the manor house. “I want to see each and every nook and cranny.”
    “I would like to begin by inspecting the winery,” Benjamin said. “Afterward, I suggest that you visit the house while Virgile and I look over the vineyards.”
    They soon found themselves in a damp, half-lit building. A thin layer of mold covered the walls, and cobwebs hung from the rafters here and there. Benjamin squatted near the dripping spigot of an oak barrel. He stood up slowly and inspected the ceiling. The wood beams seemed healthy. With a cleanup, they could make wine here, but the end product would be better if they insulated the place to avoid temperature variations.
    While Solène and Guillaume looked on, the two men from Cooker & Co. nosed through the winery without talking to each other. Beaujolais was not Bordeaux, but Benjamin and Virgile were clearly in their element. In this sort of atmosphere, with its abundance of winemaking paraphernalia, they felt entirely at home. The terroir and local customs and practices didn’t matter. The scrape of an object being moved and a tap on the side of a barrel were the only sounds interrupting the silence in the building, along with an occasional expletive from Virgile or a grumble from Benjamin.
    The Vol-au-Vent’s equipment was usable, although dated. Benjamin looked over the large wooden vats, called foudres , and the old-fashioned concrete tanks. He could almost feel the work that had gone on for generations in this wine cellar. The investment in new vats would be significant. All the equipment would have to be replaced eventually, with the exception of a few ordinary tools and the grape de-stemming machine, which was in decent shape. Périthiard, however, had the money to put into the place, and if he made a few essential purchases initially, he could have his wine cellar up and running in time for the harvest.
    “You don’t look overly enthusiastic,” Guillaume said, lifting his chin like a general, as if it would help him better understand the conclusions he expected from the famous winemaker.
    “That’s putting it mildly,” Benjamin said, rubbing his hands together. “But honestly, I didn’t anticipate anything else. It’s not uncommon to find a winery in this state on a property that hasn’t been in operation for a number of years.”
    “I imagine you’ve seen enough to form an opinion.”
    “I would prefer to visit the vines before I tell you what I think.”
    “Let’s go see the manor house,” Solène interrupted. In her fashionable silk suit, she looked ready to leave the spiders and mice behind. And her fine Italian perfume certainly didn’t belong in a place smelling of saltpeter.
    Benjamin watched as she walked toward the door, tiptoeing in her spike heels over the hard-packed floor. He knew his testosterone-driven assistant was following her every bounce and sway, appreciating the curve of her hips, her nicely muscled legs, and the long blond hair falling around her provocative neckline. He suspected his client was doing the same thing.
    Benjamin cleared his throat. “To be perfectly clear, only the terroir can tell us what can be done here. While Mrs. Chavannes is outside, let me advise you to negotiate the price down, as you will need quite a bit of cash to get this place back on its feet.”
    “I like it a lot. You know as well as I do that it’s hard to find this kind of estate in Beaujolais. There’s not much on the market. I’ve been looking for quite some time now. I’m ready to do what