28. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Keaton
You better keep a close eye on the distillery. Would be a shame if your customers were poisoned.
That message had me gunning my Elysium to the center of Darkwater Refuge, where LGD’s distillery was located on a small hill. The parking lot was busy, which meant the visitor center would probably be as well. I parked my Elysium and strode through the drizzle toward the tall, gray brick building with our gigantic 1888 Linc label painted on the front—the first Linc ever made. The restaurant belonging to the visitor center was currently under construction, hammering and sawing coming from behind plastic tarps. Heavy fog hung over the island this afternoon, obscuring the breathtaking view of the rugged north shore.
I diverted to the left and entered the gift shop, the hum of voices meeting me beyond the glass doors. Framed labels ranging from the oldest to the most recent lined the brick walls. Shelves made of old whiskey barrels offered the full selection: the traditional Linc, the Family Reserve, the Master Lincoln, and the lighter premixed drinks, leaving no wish unfulfilled. I dodged customers perusing bottles and merch, some of them eyeing me with a look of recognition. Hard not to, with that poster of my mug hanging behind the cash register.
“Jackson, is Maria here?” I asked the twenty-something kid behind the counter.
His eyes widened. “Mr. Grady, what an honor to have you here, sir. I think she’s in her office. Do you want me to get her?”
“No need.” I nodded my appreciation and strode to the back of the room, where a Staff Only door separated the visitor center from the passage leading to the still. I ran into Maria Rodriguez outside her office.
“Keaton!” The way her hazel eyes lit up reminded me of Layne. “To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?”
As the Master Distiller of Lincoln Grady Distillery, she supervised the production of our whiskey and ensured consistent quality. If anyone had noticed something fishy going on, it was her.
I smiled at the woman who’d been the closest to a mother I’d ever had. “Got a minute?”
“Always for my golden boy.” A longtime family friend, she claimed I was like King Midas—everything I touched turned into gold. Not sure about the gold, but I could turn anything into money. What I had in my bank accounts was self-earned through hard work. Not once had I touched the trust I’d gotten on my thirtieth birthday.
“Have things run different lately?” I asked as we headed into the hall where the magic happened. The air was thick with fermenting grains as we passed the stainless steel tanks. Machinery clinked in the background. “Seen any unfamiliar faces? Are you getting the grain from a new supplier? Changed delivery services?”
Maria shook her head. “Everything runs the same as it has for decades. I’ve been experimenting with different mash bills, but I wouldn’t change anything without running it by your parents first.” She frowned, her gaze probing. “Is something wrong?”
I scanned the row of curved copper stills to the right, then looked back at her. “No, but please keep an eye out, will you?”
“You’re worrying me, Keaton. What’s going on?”
A part of me wanted to let her in on what was up. I could trust she’d keep it to herself, and it’d make monitoring things a lot easier.
And what, drag her into the crosshairs of the Psycho? No way. Especially since I still had no idea who it could be. I had looked into Ian, asked around, but not found much. He was a Human Resources Specialist for a large bourbon company in Kentucky, had a wife and two kids, and still liked to golf in his pastime. Nothing unusual. And why would he try to get revenge after all these years? It didn’t add up.
“It’s nothing,” I said to Maria. “Just keep your head on a swivel.”
She pressed her lips together. Nodded. “Of course.”
We wrapped up the tour by heading underground, where the whiskey aged in wooden barrels anywhere from five to twelve years. Then I was back on the road. Having seen with my own eyes that nothing was amiss and getting Maria’s word eased my nerves.
By the time I walked into my office, I’d come to the conclusion that Maria had everything under control and there was nothing I could contribute. Stop pursuing CEO, of course, but that wasn’t an option.
As I sat in my executive chair, elbows resting on the solid walnut desk, my thoughts deviated to Layne. Was she in danger home alone? What if whoever was behind those threats targeted her to get to me? Maybe I should amp up security on my property. Install more cameras.
I raked a hand through my hair, still feeling residual embarrassment from breaking down in front of her three days ago. I’d never shown anyone Monroe’s room before. When my parents had decided to throw his stuff out, I’d paid the second-hand shop they’d donated it to good money to drop them off at my place, and recreated his room in my house. Layne had been the first and only person to see it.
She hadn’t judged me for it, nor looked at me like I was crazy. Being held by her . . . Not sure what’d happened inside of me, but it had felt good. Made me crave more time with her, even if we just talked about investing. Unfortunately I’d been swamped with work. Tonight I’d go home early, though.
Moving the mouse of my computer, I brought the screen to life. Pulled up the search engine and typed Layne Rhyner .
Swiss professional climber.
Wait, what? Layne had been a pro climber?
I clicked on one of the photos at the top and leaned in. She was smiling into the camera, the black top she wore displaying her toned arms and shoulders.
A video showed her scaling an overhanging rock wall like a monkey. Effortlessly, her powerful but feminine muscles worked as she climbed higher and higher. Just watching her made me nervous. An interview followed where she talked about how much she loved climbing. Her dark eyes glowed.
Letting out a breath, I leaned back in my chair. And I’d yelled at her for climbing the pergola. I chuckled. What an idiot. Why hadn’t she said anything?
My grin died. Now she was more or less chained to a bed. Yet that gorgeous smile, that glow, was still there. How did she do it? Had to be that faith of hers. For some reason, that drew me in. Made me curious about her relationship with God.
My desk phone rang, pulling me out of Layne-land. My secretary’s line blinked. In her late fifties, she’d been working for me for the past decade. She was one of the most diligent and reliable employees I had ever had.
I picked up. “Margo.”
“Mr. Grady, your father is here.”
I frowned. What did Aaron want?
Guess I was about to find out. “Let him in.”
A beat later, the door opened, and Aaron stepped inside. The way his chin was tucked always reminded me of a whipped dog. He was the walking example of the coward I never wanted to become.
“What’s up.” My voice had taken on the frosty edge it always did when I talked to my parents.
Slinking toward me, Aaron looked around my office—at the two leather chairs facing each other in the corner, my MLB collection next to it, and the small bar made of walnut wood offering a selection of Lincs—as if he’d never been in here. Had he? I couldn’t remember.
“I’m here to talk.” He sat down in the chair on the other side of my desk, his gray hair hanging into his eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses.
“About?”
For a long moment, he said nothing. I wanted to reach over and shake him out of whatever universe he was floating in. Was about time the man stopped withdrawing and lived in the real world.
“I know you think poorly of me,” he said, just as I was about to tell him to start talking or get out of my office.
I almost laughed. Understatement of the year. The only thing I respected about him were his master’s degrees in engineering and business, two of the hardest to obtain. I knew that because I had a master’s in business myself.
“And I know I wasn’t the father you kids needed.”
“You mean, you weren’t a father at all.”
He blinked, then his gaze dropped to the silk carpet before it flickered back up to me. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Keaton.”
“Enlighten me.”
His green eyes clouded. “Your mother had a rough childhood. Her mother abandoned her when she was five, so she was sent to her uncle, who abused her in the worst imaginable ways.”
That was news to me. I’d always assumed Regina’s upbringing had been rough, but not like that.
For the first time in my life, I felt something akin to compassion toward her. No wonder she was incapable of loving. Even before Monroe’s death she’d been cold.
“That’s why I could never leave her,” Aaron said. “She has suffered enough as it is.”
“So you just let her trample all over you.” The same old images of Regina and that man rose. I shoved them back down. “You know, I think the real reason you don’t leave her is because she runs LGD better than you ever could.”
Aaron shifted in his chair. Fidgeted with his cuff links. “Of course not.”
“What I’d like to know is your excuse for not being a father to your five kids.”
“There’s no excuse.”
At least he admitted it.
He straightened. “You might not see us as a family, Keaton, but Lincoln Grady Distillery is family. With a very rich history.”
The leather chair squeaked underneath me when I leaned back. “That’s why I’ll do anything to assure success. I have big plans.”
“I’m sure you do.” Aaron looked me straight in the eye. “Just remember that Linc isn’t a drink to get wasted on. It’s for savoring.” He rose and darted to the door as if scared I’d come after him.
I contemplated it, but let the sissy go. First off, Regina did all the hard work while he loitered in the background, so he had no right to tell me how to run things. Second, not once had I gotten tanked on Linc. I knew the value it had, and didn’t waste it.
Was he scared I’d run LGD into the ground? Or destroy traditions?
Sighing, I pressed my fingers into my closed eyes—
Wait, what if he was behind the threats?
A grin split my face as I tried to imagine Aaron terrorizing someone. Nah, the guy didn’t have it in him. Also, Regina was on the verge of cutting me loose, so he’d just have to say the word.
Not once in my thirty-three years had he believed in me, and I didn’t give a squat that he wouldn’t start now. I didn’t need anyone’s support to become the best CEO Lincoln Grady Distillery had ever witnessed. I’d freaking own it.
I unlocked my computer again, finding Layne smiling back at me from my previous search. Couldn’t wait to get home to her.
When tucking her into bed three days ago, I’d burned to kiss her. But she had her no-touching rules when it was just the two of us, and I respected that.
Not tonight, though. I’d go home, find her, and kiss her senseless.
Yeah, today I’d leave work early—come hell or high water.