The Victim in the Vineyard by Shéa MacLeod

Author:Shéa MacLeod
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder mystery, whodunnit, bookish mystery, small town, wine mystery
Publisher: Sunwalker Press
Published: 2020-08-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

“That’s some house,” Bat said, eyeballing the massive estate as Joe drove the car around the circular drive later that evening. He wasn’t wrong. The place was impressive.

Martin’s house had been patterned after the rustic villas of Italy, complete with red tiled roof, stonework walls, and Cyprus trees—definitely not native to the region—lining the drive. Ivy had been trained up and over one side of the house, its glossy leaves swaying gently in a light breeze, softening the brickwork and giving the impression the house had stood there for generations. Giant urns overflowing with pink, purple, and black petunias bracketed the oak double doors, which stood open, spilling music outside and allowing guests to enter with ease.

The generously proportioned entry with cream and gold Italian marble floors opened into a massive great room. The room was surprisingly modern, with engineered hardwood floors, stark white walls, recessed lighting, and soaring ceilings with fans turning lazily. The furniture had been pushed up against the walls to allow guests to flow through the room or sit on one of the comfortable leather couches or chairs. A wall of windows at the back looked out over the gently sloping vineyard.

Beyond the windows was a deck nearly as big as the great room. A long table stretched the length of the deck, big enough for everyone at the party to sit around. Despite being outside, it had been set with proper linens, silver, and china. Candles were ready to be lit once night fell. In addition, there were patio heaters at either end to ward of the chill of the evening, and a massive outdoor fireplace made of river rock, with logs already laid.

The rich scent of barbequing meat wafted by, and my stomach rumbled. I was more than ready for the feast. I guess a donut couldn’t really be considered a proper lunch.

Then I told myself not to be ridiculous. Donuts were a perfect lunch.

Cheryl and Bat wandered outside to take in the view while Lucas and I went on the hunt for libations. A bartender served cocktails and glasses of wine behind a massive granite island. I was nervous about it, but I watched the man like a hawk while he opened a bottle of chilled Chardonnay and poured me a glass. If it never left my hand, and I drank fast enough, there was little chance I’d be poisoned. And if I was, well, the wine was pretty darn good, so I supposed there were worse ways to go.

“You all right?” Lucas said and pressed his lips briefly against my temple. He looked amazing in charcoal gray dress pants and a pale blue button-down shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and blue eyes. “You look anxious.”

“Wouldn’t you be?” I said. “The last party didn’t exactly end on a high note.”

“There are fewer people here tonight, and they’re mostly friends. We’ll be extra careful to keep an eye on you.” He gave me a look rife with meaning before dropping a kiss on my lips.

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