Page 91 of Let It Breathe
Axl shrugged and trudged off up the hill, leaving Reese staring after him.
“Rough night, Reese?”
She turned and saw Dick Smart from Larchwood Vineyards. He wore the same smug expression he always wore and was immaculately dressed for a guy who’d been roused from bed at one a.m.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped.
“Came to see if you needed any help. Being neighborly.”
“You’re not being neighborly. You’re being nosy.”
He ignored her snide tone and nodded toward the winery barn. “You lose anything in the fire?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ve been trying to find someone to talk to, but I keep getting pulled away.”
“Hmmm. Well, I do hope it all turns out okay for you. Be a damn shame if you lost any of your wines.”
Reese looked at him, narrowing her eyes a little. Dick stared back, his expression unblinking.
“What?” he demanded.
Reese shook her head, suppressing a shiver. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Clay got to the vineyard early the next morning. Early by construction standards, anyway, which were pretty damn early. But he’d learned that was nothing compared to winery hours.
From the looks of things, the vineyard crew had been there awhile. They stood in a cluster near the winery barn, frowning at the blackened hole in the side of the building. Yellow police tape fluttered in the breeze, and everyone wore matching grim expressions.
Clay approached quietly and kept his distance, not wanting to interrupt.
“Look, at least we didn’t lose any equipment,” Reese’s dad was saying. “We can count our blessings for that. The structural damage was minimal. All in all, we got lucky.”
“What about the wine?” Reese asked. “How’s the smoke going to affect what we’ve got in the barrels here?”
Eric scratched his chin. “We’re lucky we moved all the Reserve down to the other cellar a couple days ago, but I’ll have to go through and check everything else for smoke damage.”
“Can we move all the barrels out of here?” Reese asked. “I don’t want any of the wines getting worse just sitting in this smoky building.”
“Already on it,” Eric said. “I’ve got a couple guys coming in to help run the forklift and get everything moved to the other cellar.”
“What about the white wines?” June asked. “Everything we have stored in the tanks—the smoke can’t be good for those.”
Eric sighed. “There’s the Sauvignon Blanc in steel over there. It’s pretty delicate. We might lose that one.”
“The whole tank?” June asked. “What about the Chardonnay?”
Eric shook his head. “We can taste it and see, but?—”
He trailed off, looking grim. Reese closed her eyes. What did that leave them with? How many of those white wines were pre-sold? How much money would they lose?
“Most of those are sold to restaurants already,” Larissa whispered. “Without the white wines—” She bit her lip.
Reese sighed. “Let’s just move what we can and hope for the best.”
“No one was hurt,” June said. “That’s the important thing. It was a pretty small fire all in all.”
Clay felt a pang in his chest as he watched Jed put his arm around his daughter. “It’ll be okay,” Jed assured them. “I’ve got a meeting in an hour with our insurance guy. This is what we have the policy for.”
“But we’re already thin on whites for this season,” Larissa said. “Our buyers have all been demanding more. What do I tell them now?”
