Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Abi
Inside the winery felt cozy and classy with its many towering wooden shelves stocked with bottles and bottles of wine, white painted brick walls, and fancy red curtains and window treatments.
A long, gorgeous wooden wine bar took up one side of the winery, stretching the length of the entire room, while in the center of the room were a few wooden pews that looked like they’d been pulled out of a church, and there was even a small area that had t-shirts, kitchen towels, and other wine-themed gifts and souvenirs.
“Welcome, welcome!” greeted a small woman standing behind the bar. She’d pulled her silvery black hair back into a bun that was so smooth, I would have begged her to teach me how she’d done it back in my professional accounting days. “I rarely see you here, Daphne.”
“Hello, Maria Josè, and hi there, Lina.” Daphne waved to the second woman working behind the wine counter, a tall woman with angular facial features and a pixie cut that was ruffled with brown curls.
“What brings you here, Daphne? I didn’t think you wolves drank.” Lina, the tall woman, adjusted her thick glasses and smiled in a motherly manner.
Daphne motioned for me to follow her as she sauntered up to the wine bar. “No, but this is Abigail Marshall, and she’s new to town, so I thought a wine tasting would be a great way to welcome her to Algoma.”
“Ooo, yay! Say no more!” Lina excitedly clapped her hands.
“Let me get you the menu, but you can choose six wines to taste, although you’ll want to decide if you want to do a premier or select wine tasting, or you could do our featured wine flight.
And, most importantly, you can get a quantity discount depending how many bottles of wine you purchase—and more is better! ”
“It is not, and I wish you would stop saying that,” Maria Josè scolded her coworker. “It’s all about finding the right wine for each moment!”
Lina winked as she handed over two paper menus and little pencils. “Maria Josè has a sharper palate than I do. She’s got strong opinions about her wine!”
“Hush, hush!” Maria Josè playfully swatted at Lina, and fought back a smile when her coworker laughed cheerfully.
I took the menu and stared blankly at it.
I had drunk wine at various work functions, but my legal mind-alternating drug of choice had always been highly caffeinated coffee over alcohol. (It was hard to work long hours when mentally befuddled. When high on caffeine, however, that was a thrill!)
Daphne also peered doubtfully at her menu. “Any recommendations?”
“I’d suggest trying a variety—from our more full-bodied wines to something sweeter—so you can truly taste and appreciate the differences. The menu is color coded by white wine, red wine, and rosè or fruit wines, and each wine has a description,” Maria Josè explained.
I leaned closer to Daphne while the winery employes busied themselves getting glasses for us. “What does full-bodied even mean?”
“I’m pretty sure those are usually higher in alcoholic content,” Daphne said.
“Why don’t they just say higher in alcoholic content then?” I asked.
“I don’t know, why do wine people use ‘dry’ as a description for a liquid?” Daphne asked.
“Good point.”
“So, are you a supernatural, too?” Lina ask as she bustled past.
“No, I’m just a regular human,” I said. “I’m from southern Wisconsin. I came up here for a job.”
“What kind of job?” Lina asked.
“I’m a house manger,” I said.
“Don’t tell me, are you working for that new Kinge heir?” Lina asked.
“Yes.”
“Welcome to Algoma,” Maria Josè said.
Lina impatiently waved her hand. “Yes, welcome to friendly Algoma, make sure you go on the boardwalk, buy lots of wine, and so on, but tell us!” She slapped her hands on the wooden wine bar. “Is the new Kinge heir just as good looking as his predecessor?”
“Lina!” Maria Josè scolded.
“Aren’t you curious? Every Kinge man has been quite the looker—my own grandmother told me so!” Lina said.
Of course they’re all good looking, because they’re all the same guy.
“He is conventionally very handsome,” I confirmed.
“I knew it!” Lina crowed.
Maria Josè rolled her eyes, then set two fancy wine glasses down in front of us with the von Stiehl Winery logo printed on them. “Have you two made your selections?”
“No, sorry.” I peered down at the list, then checked a couple of wines at random.
Daphne glanced at my list and copied down what I’d scribbled out.
When she finished Maria Josè inspected our choices and nodded in approval.
“You’re trying the same ones? That will be a fun experience. I’ll get your first selection.”
Now would be the perfect time to start steering the conversation towards the attack. But I don’t know that as an outsider I can do that with tact. So the question is, can I prompt Daphne to do it for me?
I leaned against the wine bar, propping my elbows on the worn wooden edge. Daphne watched Maria Josè select a wine bottle, and pour a sampling amount into each of our glasses.
I waited for the werewolf to glance at me, but she sniffed the glass cautiously.
I cleared my throat, and when Daphne glanced at me I looked from her to the winery employees, then back again.
Daphne straightened up and nodded. “Say, I heard what happened to Dawn. How is she doing?”
Some of Lina’s cheerful energy faded. “She’s fine. No lasting harm was done, though she is shaken.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Maria Josè meaningfully looked at my glass of the randomly selected red wine I’d chosen, so I took a gulp.
“Oh.” I said. “That’s why they call it dry.”
It was incredibly tart, but as there was nothing sweet about the drink, it was almost bitter and instantly made my mouth pucker up.
“Dawn was attacked over by the boardwalk in the early morning about… a week ago, was it?” Lina looked at Maria Josè, who nodded in confirmation.
A week. Was that the day I tried to go fishing?
“I can’t believe she was attacked in Algoma,” Daphne said, sounding so shocked for a moment I forgot she’d been sniffing around the first attack and had likely already looked into this incident, too.
Lina sighed. “I know—it’s sad for her, and for the community. Thankfully the worst she has is a banged knee—the doctor thinks she fell on it. For a while they were concerned she had a concussion since she doesn’t remember what happened and was light headed for a few days, but she’s been cleared.”
I finished the dry wine in my glass, and Lina immediately poured out our second sample.
I watched her pour—this time it was a white wine. “That sounds like what happened to Michelle.”
Maria Josè gave me a shrewd look. “You know about that?”
I nodded. “Shannon and Jonas—they’re the cleaners at the Kinge mansion—told me. Do they think it was young tourists again?”
Maria Josè frowned and adjusted her plastic name badge. “I hope not. If so, it seems like they’re making a pattern out of it and focusing on Algoma.”
When her eyes strayed toward my wine glass I hurriedly took a sip. This white wine was sweeter than the previous red wine—something I apparently preferred as I finished off the sample quickly.
“Does two attacks really mean it’s a pattern?” I asked, while a pleasant, warm feeling settled in my stomach from the wine.
Lina shivered as she fetched the next wine—why were they serving us so fast?! This kind of customer service was too good! “Maybe not in bigger cities, but for a small place like Algoma, it does. Particularly when two such incidents happen so close together.”
“I doubt it’s locals,” Daphne said. “Could it be some vacationers?”
“Most likely,” Maria Josè grunted. “Though most tourists come for a short time and then leave.”
“Maybe they’re traveling back and forth?
Lots of folks have lake houses up here. They could be causing trouble whenever they come up,” Lina said as she poured a wine.
This one was red, but not the deep, mellow maroon that reminded me of Beckett’s eyes.
It was something closer to the shiny red of a cherry.
“This is the Cherry Bounce—it’s a concentration of cherry wine and cherry brandy, so it has a higher alcohol content,” Maria Josè announced.
I let Daphne sip it first, but she showed no trouble as she nodded and made noises of appreciation.
I sipped cautiously, but it was smooth and sweet, and I don’t know if it was because I’d been gulping alcohol or brainwashing, but I swear I could taste notes of cherry. Swallowing it down made the warm feeling in my gut spread to my arms.
I… am a lightweight.
The realization came a little too late—I was already well on my way to toasted even though I’d just had a few sips.
This is what happens when one doesn’t drink alcohol and suddenly downs a bunch, I suppose.
It took a little extra effort to collect my thoughts, but it wasn’t too bad—at least we were halfway through!
“Whoever is doing this, they must be deviously smart if neither Michelle nor Dawn remember how they were attacked,” I said.
“Oh, even I have ideas of how they could do that,” Lina said. “I listen to true crime podcasts!”
“Maybe,” Maria Josè glumly said. “Or maybe they…”
Daphne smiled sadly. “Are supernaturals?”
Maria Josè cringed. “Sorry, but can’t fae and wizards cast spells for that kind of thing?”
“Wizards can’t,” Daphne said. “But there are other methods, so you shouldn’t entirely exclude supernaturals.”
“We know it wasn’t your Pack,” Lina assured Daphne. “Besides, what would a shifter attack a human for?”
“Shifters can get… mentally unstable. Just like any human,” Daphne said—I could tell she was carefully choosing her words. “Which could make them more prone towards attacking. But the attack pattern doesn’t seem to match anything a werewolf would do.”
Maria Josè and Lina nodded, then briefly stepped away to fetch the next wine.
I leaned closer to Daphne. “What do you mean by that?”