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“How long ago?” I pressed.
The Frenchman shrugged. “Twenty minutes?”
“Twenty minutes.” I sighed.
“Oui.”
“The tunnels?” I glanced at him. “Do you think it spread in the tunnels?” Beneath the offices were twenty-five connecting tunnels that spanned almost fifteen miles. If they had been breached by the flames, the entire vineyard was lost. I’d never be able to recuperate that kind of production.
“I don’t know, Monsieur Corban.”
“Was there anyone else here?” Occasionally, Peter provided guided tours of the cellars and hosted champagne tastings for tourists. Our cellars were lesser known and didn’t have the kind of traffic the others did in the village.
“No,” he answered. “Only me.”
“Thank God.”
By now, the men who worked in the grape fields had begun to gather close to us. I saw their eyes. The fear and uncertainty the fire brought. Every time a spark launched off the roof I watched to see if it would hit one of the vines. What then? I was about to lose all of it. Was I going to lose the grapes too?
“Monsieur Corban?” The man who had knocked me on my ass approached. He had returned the baton to his holster. I glared at him, my arms folded over my chest.
“Yes.” I stepped forward.
“The fire is contained.”
“Did it spread to the tunnels?” I asked. “How much damage is there?”
“Come with me.” He led me away from the vineyard workers. We stopped on the other side of the rescue engine. “I’m sorry, but the offices are a total loss.”
“What about the casks? The wine and champagne? I have a million bottles under our feet.”
“I sent a team to the first level. I think you might have some heat damage, but there was no fire.”
I exhaled. I could rebuild a cottage. I could rebuild a tasting venue and a gazebo for weddings. I couldn’t reproduce a hundred years-worth of priceless grapes.
“Thank you.” I nodded at the report.
“I will begin an investigation as soon as I’m able to set foot in there. It’s still too hot.”
“You think someone started the fire?”
“We will find out if that’s what happened.”
My brow furrowed. The officer walked away. I rubbed the back of my head, trying to make sense of what happened. I had to catch my breath and figure out what I was going to do next. When I glanced at the workers, I noticed their families had started to join them. One man put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. She leaned into him as they watched the weeping smoke curl in tendrils over the roof.
The vineyard was going to require all of my attention now. Were the burning embers the escape I needed? A salvation in disguise. I wasn’t religious. Barely spiritual, but maybe God had tossed me a line. I needed to grab on and take hold before I drowned.
