Marshmallow Malice by Amanda Flower

Author:Amanda Flower
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

When some visitors find out that there are wineries in Holmes County, they are surprised. Alcohol of any kind doesn’t fit with their understanding of Amish beliefs. Some think because the Amish are ruled by their faith, they must also abstain from liquor, but that just isn’t the case. Many Amish make beer at home and other forms of spirits.

The wineries in the county, however, are run by English families. They chose Holmes County because the soil is rich and there were already tourists in the county visiting the Amish businesses. It made sense to open a winery in a location with guaranteed traffic.

As I drove to Stardust Winery, which was on Route 62, Cass flipped the small purple matchbook in her hand. “When we get there, let me do the talking.”

I took my eyes off the road for a second to look at her. “Excuse me?”

“Just this once. I know wine much better than you do. You hardly drink anything more than a rosé.” She shook her head. “The winemakers aren’t going to answer your questions or take you seriously if you can’t speak their language.”

“We really aren’t there to ask them about the wine.”

She shook her head as if I’d just proved her point. “You can’t go into a winery and not ask about the wine. That’s like going into a library and not asking about books. It’s just not done.”

I shrugged. “Fine. If you are so confident about it, we can try it your way.”

“There is no try.” She grinned. “Don’t worry; it’ll work. Just let me take the lead to warm them up and then you can ask them all the Amish stuff.”

We came to a consensus just as I turned off the road into a gravel lot beside a purple, one-story building. The winery was small, but the vineyard behind it seemed to roll over the hillside for miles.

Cass wrinkled her nose. “They must make their wine at a different location. This building is way too small for production.”

The building didn’t look much bigger than your average dentist’s office.

She turned back to me. “Okay, again, let me take the lead.”

“Got it.” I held up my hands. “Let you take the lead and no one gets hurt.”

She rolled her eyes.

Despite the size of the building, the winery’s parking lot was packed with cars and one senior tour bus. Cass nodded at the bus. “Don’t get between that crew and their wine.” She said this as though she spoke from experience.

Shaking my head, I followed her inside the purple building.

“This is just our tasting room,” a woman dressed in black linen said from behind the black marble counter as she poured white wine into the waiting glasses in front of her. “The production building is at the very back of the vineyard.”

“Can we see it?” an elderly woman asked as she swirled and sniffed her glass.

“I’m afraid you can’t,” the woman in black said. “It’s closed for renovations.” She smiled over the older woman’s head at Cass and me.

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