Read Wine Astray: Spirit of the Soul Wine Shop Mystery (A Rysen Morris Mystery Book 1) for Free Online

dad had been busy, leaving the girls to fend for themselves.  It was a little memory of a childhood that hadn't been great, but it made Rysen smile.
    The shop was still locked up with the "CLOSED" sign in the window, most of the lights inside still off.  Christina parked out front this time, turning off the engine, staring out the windshield over the steering wheel at the dark windows of her business.
    "Huh," she said.
    "Where's your security guy?" Rysen asked.
    Worry started to etch lines in Christina's brow.  "Maybe he's inside waiting for us.  That's it.  He's guarding our shipment inside.  Come on."
    Rysen followed her through the door.  When Christina flicked on the ceiling lights, they revealed the same bare shelves.  Where they had expected boxes and crates to be stacked up in the middle of the showroom there was only empty floor.  Everything was the same as they had left it yesterday.
    Except for the guy leaning back against the counter with his arms folded and his piercing eyes staring them both down.
    "Thought it'd be you," he said in that same subtle accent, which seemed more Australian to Rysen now than British.  "Wanted to be sure."
    "What are you doing here?" Rysen demanded.  "You can't be in my sister's store!"
    "Ry, calm down," Christina told her, pulling her back by her elbow.  "This is Brandon Dennicort, our security consultant."
    Rysen blinked.  The guy she had literally run into, the guy with all the muscles and the face of a male model…he was the security consultant?
    She felt her cheeks heating up again.
    "Brandon," Christina asked, "where's the shipment?  Did you put it downstairs already or something?"
    He looked at her, his face grim, and slowly nodded his head.  "Nothing came.  Wanted to ask you if I got the time wrong.  Guessing I didn't."
    Rysen's heart sank.  Christina had been depending on that delivery coming into the store today.  The few bottles of wine they got every other day from local wine makers weren't holding them.  A couple of tourists had already come and then walked out again when they saw how little inventory they had.
    "Chris…" Rysen started to say.
    “I need to make a phone call," Christina said quickly, excusing herself to the back office, closing the door with a firm little snick.
    Which left Rysen and—what was his name?  Brandon?—alone in an awkward silence.  She took the time to look him over again.  When she'd been joking about needing eye candy here at the shop she didn't realize her sister would take it to heart.  Or maybe this was just the luck of the draw.  Either way, Brandon was way hot, and he was still staring at her, and his lip curled in this little smile that made her wonder what he was thinking.
    Was it this morning she had sworn off thinking about guys?  Right.  Um.  Right.  Especially with her sister's employees.
    "I guess you can, you know, go," she said to him, suddenly all tongue tied.  "Unless you're waiting for a check?  Do we like, pay you by the day or something?"
    "Your sis has me paid up for a week," Brandon explained, his eyes still focused on Rysen.  "She'll get what she's paid for."
    "Oh really?" she snapped, feeling like he was examining her, or something.  She didn't know if she should be flattered or punch him in his cute nose.  "Tell me then, Mister Security Guy, if Christina is getting what she paid for then where is her shipment?"
    He shrugged.  "Not here."
    Rysen waited for more but he just stood there, arms crossed, not speaking.  "Really?  Not here?  That's the best your security expertise can tell us?"
    "Too right.  For now, at least.  Nothing happened on this end.  The wine she had last night, she still has today.  That's thanks to me."  There wasn't a hint of humility in those words and Rysen felt irrationally annoyed at his smugness.  "I installed a new alarm system for her.  Security cameras, too.  Plus I slept on the floor back there."
    "How nice," Rysen quipped.  "You've moved