Twenty-Three
Hale
Leaving Bay with Ellen was a fucking relief.
I needed out of the house and the temptation to look at her.
Blaise had Harland in his underground. I was ready to send Bay back home.
But Blaise didn’t trust her to keep her mouth shut.
He wanted to handle Harland and Vilmer first. I wasn’t sure what he planned on doing with Bay, and it was annoying me that I was uneasy about it.
She wasn’t mine to protect. She’d lied to me, even after I saved her from the damn stalker who was mixed up in a gang.
The list of shit I needed to get done today would hopefully keep my mind off the beauty at my house.
Ransom had sent the profit and loss statement to my Mac to look over and the new suppliers for the bottles and barley, which I’d told him to find better prices for without harming the quality.
He had gone to meet with two different restaurant chains and a local bar about stocking our lower-end whiskey.
That left me here to test the batches and make sure they met our standards. Than wasn’t good at that. It had taken me a while to trust Ransom enough to do it.
With all of that waiting on me, I turned on my computer as I sat behind the desk in my office to get to work.
Before I could get anything accomplished though, Than knocked once, then opened my door and peeked inside.
“Got an issue with the mash tuns,” he said.
“They’re basically new,” I replied, already annoyed. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”
We had just spent over a hundred grand updating them.
“The tuns are fine. The problem is, Rich ain’t here, and Nets doesn’t feel comfortable overseeing them. Rich is the one who was supposed to manage the tuns today. Bakes and Rich are the only two we have trained to do it.”
“Where the fuck is Rich?!” I demanded.
Than shrugged. “Don’t know. He’s not answering his phone. Hill went to his place to look for him. His, uh, wife left him last week for the owner of the bar she works at. Since then, seems he’s been drinking heavy when he gets home.”
Dammit. I didn’t have time for this drama. “You know how to manage the tuns. Go do it and teach Nets in the process. We need more than two men who can handle them.”
Than sighed. “All right.”
“Don’t let him fuck anything up,” I warned.
“I won’t,” he replied, closing the door as he left.
Focusing on the profit and loss statement, I started going over the different areas that Ransom had highlighted for where we could save money. He had a good head for numbers, and I was thankful for it. I was tired of doing it.
Slowly handing things off to my sons had been my goal since they had started coming here to work as young teenagers.
One day, I would sit back and just enjoy the whiskey, the way my dad had when I finally took over.
At least the boys could do it together, and one wouldn’t be saddled with it all, the way I had been.
By the time I finished going over everything, including the new recipe for a flavored whiskey that Ransom had come up with, I had been here for over two hours.
Standing up, I stretched and decided it was a good time to have a cigar.
If I was going to allow a fucking flavored whiskey into our stock, then I needed a smoke to take the edge off.
Ransom was adamant that it would be a big seller and that we needed it if we wanted to keep up with what was relevant.
I had never cared about appealing to the female side of the industry, but apparently, even the males drank that shit these days.
I heard the heavy footsteps headed this way and paused to look back at the door.
There was no knock when the knob turned and it began to open.
Which meant I was about to get another distraction because the boots had to belong to Linc.
I went ahead and cut the cigar while he entered the room, then began to toast it before looking over at him.
He shut the door behind him. “Harland’s dead.”
I hadn’t figured he would get to live long. Not once Blaise had him.
I checked on the tip of the cigar, making sure I wasn’t letting the flame touch the leaves as I rotated it. “Is Vilmer next?”
The end began to glow red, and I brought it up to my lips and drew in gently.
“No, he’s singing like a bird, which is why Harland is dead. Vilmer will be our bitch until the day he dies though. Levi said he pissed his pants, cried, spewed everything he knew, and begged.”
I let the taste I’d left lingering in my mouth to enjoy out with an exhale. “What’s the story on Harland? How is that being cleaned up?”
He wasn’t someone whose death would be easy to cover up.
Linc walked over and took a seat in one of the leather chairs opposite my desk before taking off his cowboy hat and running his hand through his hair with a sigh. “The world will think Harland was an addict and it was a drug deal gone bad.”
Ah, should have guessed that one. It always worked and was an easy cover-up.
“Vilmer will attest to knowing Harland was dealing with addiction and trying to help him.”
That would be one of thousands of lies Vilmer would tell in his lifetime for us.
“When do I send Bay back?” I asked.
Linc cut his eyes back at me. “Not yet. That’s why I’m here.
Blaise doesn’t believe she was dating Harland.
Even Vilmer didn’t know who she was. But he wants to do a complete sweep of her apartment and life for bugs, cameras, any hint at a connection before we send her home.
She will also have to understand that her silence is required. ”
I wasn’t so sure convincing her to keep silent was going to be easy.
“How much longer do I have a ward?” I asked, taking the seat beside him instead of behind my desk.
“Don’t know. A week, give or take a few days.”
Shit. A week? Her apartment wasn’t that big, and her life was pretty fucking boring after all, it seemed.
“So, Vilmer didn’t know her? I mean, other than her being a flight attendant?” I asked, still finding this hard to believe.
“Coincidence. The connection surprised him. He was busy blubbering and pissing himself. He wasn’t going to lie to cover up for her when he was throwing Harland under the damn train.”
Well, damn. Now I felt a twinge of guilt for bringing her into this shit. But I was also relieved. Real fucking relieved. I didn’t think that was a good reaction either.