Page 81 of Dagger’s Shield

“He would never miss the chance to be the center of attention,” she whispered in response.

“Tonight, I have the honor of announcing the engagement of my daughter, Maëlle, to Monsieur Killian Rourke.”

Those in the room clapped and murmured their good wishes.

“Congratulations to Rourke, who had the sense to ask her. And to my Maëlle”—he lifted his glass to her alone—“every happiness. Your mother and I are proud of you. That you will be staying on with us these next months is the finest gift we’ve been given in years.”

Their eyes met over a hundred raised glasses. She didn’t look away, and neither did he. I stood a half step behind her and hoped to God she could see the same thing I could.

Behind him, Rémy stood in a corner, with his glass at his chest. He didn’t raise it, and he didn’t clap.

The receiving line dissolved into the party, and for an hour, Maëlle worked the room. Growers, cellar masters, multi-generational owners, and in some cases, the widows who ran the estates their husbands’ names were still on, all had a story about her at six years old or as a teenager.

An older man grabbed my sleeve and told me I was marrying into the finest family in Burgundy.

When Chantal leaned into him, Bertrand walked her to a chair at the quiet end of the room and stood behind it with his hand on her shoulder.

Rémy hadn’t left his corner. He answered whoever came to him in three words and returned to his glass.

“Preacher, Cassidy,” I said into the comms. “Stay on Rémy.”

“Roger that,” Cassidy responded.

“He’s got a call coming in,” she said at twenty-two hundred.

A second later, I heard Rémy through her mic.

“Where the fuck are you?”

There were a few seconds of silence, followed by, “I’m on my way.”

“If there’s a chance he’s meeting Géraud, I’m going with him,” said Maëlle.

I shut off my mic. “Be careful, mon feu.” I turned it back on. “Find out where he’s going, then give us time to get ahead of you.”

She put her glass on a passing tray and crossed the room. I turned to face away from the crowd and listened.

“Where are you off to, cousin?” she asked him.

“There’s an alarm going off in the fermentation room.”

“I’ll come with you. You know how I hate crowds like this.”

“I’d tell you to stay and enjoy yourself, but you’re right. I know you won’t,” he joked.

“Stall him for two minutes,” I said. “Preacher, you’re with me. We’ll go in at the far end of the vat house. Cassidy, come in through the other door.”

“Roger,” they both said.

Preacher and I went out through a side door and crossed the yard. The roll door was down. The service door beside it opened with the code Maëlle had given us at the cottage.

Inside, the tanks stood in two rows under a catwalk. No lights were on, and no alarms sounded, but they could be through a mobile alert instead.

A man stood between two of the tanks, with his hands at his sides, facing away from us. He turned as if he’d heard a sound. Preacher and I remained still, giving me a chance to get a good look at him.

“It’s Géraud,” I said.

I moved up the far side of the row, keeping the tanks between him and me. Preacher hid at the other end of the space. Cassidy came in through another door silently.