Wine Astray: Spirit of the Soul Wine Shop Mystery (A Rysen Morris Mystery Book 1) by K.J. Emrick Read Free Book Online Page B

surprised to find out this same guy was doing this to other little shops, too."
    Rysen watched as a big man with bulging arms got out of the van and waited for the driver of the truck to come back to him.  The two exchanged a handshake, and then they opened the doors at the back of the big rig.
    "What do we do now?" she asked Brandon.
    He drummed on the dash again.  "We have two options.  We can call the police and let them know what's happening, hope they get here in time, and let them make an arrest.  Or, we can try to stop them ourselves."
    "What?  How exactly would we stop them ourselves?"
    Reaching down to the right cuff of his jeans he took out a revolver and held it like a pro.  "Sometimes you just have to give people the right incentive."
    She felt her eyes get wider.  Guns?  Now there were guns?
    "Do you trust me?" he asked her.
    The question took her off guard.  Her feelings toward him had gone back and forth and she wasn't really sure where she'd landed yet.  This wasn't for her, she reminded herself.  This was for Christina.
    "I guess I'm going to have to trust you," she told him.  "You're the one with the gun."
    His smile showed teeth.  "Guns don't make you right.  They just get people to listen to you.  All right.  Do this.  Drive up to them slowly, like you're going to drive right by.  Then stop right next to the van."
    Rysen nodded and put the car in gear.
    They watched as the driver of the big rig, a lanky man with stringy brown hair tucked into a baseball cap, climbed up into the back of the truck and carried a wooden crate marked "California Dry Red" back to the big burly guy from the van.  They both eyed Rysen's car as it got closer.  In the passenger seat, Brandon sat facing forward until they were right even with the van.
    Then he jumped out with the car still moving, gun in hand, and told both men to stay where they were.
    Rysen was so amazed by what had just happened that she forgot to stop the car for another ten feet.
    "What the hell is this?" the van driver demanded.
    Rysen was just coming around as Brandon said, "You two are stealing from my employer.  Can't let that happen, mate."
    "You gotta be joking," big rig driver said.  "You insane?  Dude, there's two of us, and there's one of you."
    "Two of us," Rysen pointed out.  She couldn't help smiling, seeing these two caught in the act like this.
    "Not to mention," Brandon added, "I'm holding a gun, and you're holding a box."
    The guy in his baseball cap looked down at the crate, then back up at Brandon, his face sour.
    And then threw the big wooden box full of wine at Brandon.
    He brought his arms up in time to block it but the weight of eight wine bottles packed inside heavy wooden slats knocked him off his feet and to the ground.  The guy from the van, big heavy that he was, ran for his van and got behind the wheel and peeled out backwards so fast that dirt flew up from where his tires bit into the roadside.  He was gone before Rysen could take two steps.
    The big rig driver was running up along his truck at full speed.  Brandon was still on the ground, moaning and holding his left arm.
    Rysen realized it was up to her.
    She took off after the guy, hopelessly far behind and realizing only now that she should have used her car to catch up to him.  When he got to the door and climbed up the steps and got ready to get in, she was finally able to overtake him, grabbing hold of his ankle and yanking with all of her might.  He lost his footing, slipped, and fell on top of her.  All of the air went out of her lungs in a big whoosh and stars swam in her vision.
    The guy was screaming at her, and suddenly his hand was on her throat and holding her down as his other arm reared back, his fist threatening to smash her in the face.
    "Do.  Not.  Move."
    Brandon's voice was a rough growl as he put the barrel of his gun against the big rig driver's temple.  The guy slowly raised his hands, rocking back on his knees, taking his