Shine On (12 page)

“Yeah, until we checked the books,” he answered.

“That’s right, the books… Gabe, what was going on with the books?” Silas asked, still smiling that same odd grin.

Gabe felt like a child at school being quizzed by the teacher. He knew Silas could be set off but he’d never had his anger directed toward him. Where was all of this headed? They’d had such a good night out with Trick and the girls.

“Well, they were short money. Money that was supposed to go to Ava’s pop and your dad for taking care of the speaks and blind pigs down here,” Gabe answered.

Silas smiled and motioned his hand for him to continue talking.

“Okay,” Gabe breathed deeply unsure if he was scared or angry. “The books were short because James had fronted the ’shiner a lot of cash for moonshine that was never delivered.”

“Right again, my boy. Keep going,” Silas said.

“Your dad told us we couldn’t come home till the money was back,” Gabe said. “But we never found it because…” Awareness shown in Gabe’s eyes as he trailed off. Ugh. He told Vince Silas was going to be pissed about this.

“And there it is…” Silas smacked his hands together dramatically in the air. “Finish.”

“We never found it because the ’shiner was killed the night we got to town,” Gabe’s voice came out barely a whisper. “Look, Silas, I told Vince we needed to tell you but…”

“And what was the bootlegger’s name?” Silas asked refusing to listen to Gabe’s excuse.

Gabe shook his head and looked down again. When he started to apologize Silas cut him off again.

“What was the fucking bootlegger’s name?” Silas shouted, flipping over the chair he was standing next to.

“Ronnie Talbot,” Gabe answered.

“So, answer me this, Gabe. Why in the hell didn’t anyone tell me Emmie’s family was involved in all this shit?” Silas shouted.

“Silas, we don’t think she’s involved. You’ve met her. She’s one of the most naive people I’ve ever met. Ronnie was no good but that’s got nothing to do with her,” Gabe started.

“He was her father! I don’t care if she knew about it or not—she is too close to it for me to be with her.” He turned back to the wall again.

His friend walked up behind him. “You know how Ava’s family treats her. They really don’t believe she had anything to do with any of it. That’s why Vince didn’t want you to know. They want her left out of it. Besides the trail ended with Ronnie. Whoever killed him that night probably took the money. Vince searched Ronnie’s ground for days afterward and found nothing. But that man waiting out there… he might know something—that’s what we need to focus on, not this.” Gabe tried to refocus the conversation.

“Did they really think I wouldn’t find out who she was? Stupid…” Silas started but Gabe cut him off.

“Look, don’t get involved with her then, if you don’t think it’s right, then don’t do it,” Gabe shouted.

Silas rubbed his brow and paced the length of the table. “I’m already involved.” Then he turned and walked out the door slamming it behind him.

Chapter Nineteen

S
potty lay in a pallet in the corner chewing on an apple core. Emmie simmered the last of the apples in a mess of sugar and cinnamon. Her house would smell like heaven for at least a couple of days, maybe a week with as much applesauce as she had canned this morning.

Max was getting a couple jars as a thank you for all the apples he had picked. Since Ava had ruined Emmie’s last batch, she made him some more. Well, maybe she couldn’t quite say ruined, especially after she had the Georgia peach ’shine last night it had given her a new idea. She had a plan that was going to help her and Walter sell all that moonshine quickly.

Walt showed up at nine o’clock on the nose in his old truck.

“Whoo-ee, Emmie your house smells good.” He walked in and put his hat on the kitchen table. “Max would die if he was here right now. Not much he likes better than your applesauce.”

“Well, it was Mama’s recipe and, of course, I’ve got some for him.” Emmie produced a basket with two big jars full of the warm applesauce. “He picked all these apples, it’s only fair.”

“Thanks, Emmie. I appreciate all you are doing for him,” he said.

“You know I’m happy to,” she said. “I’ve got something else to share with you too.”

She walked over to the counter and strained what looked like the last few spoonfuls of a very watered-down applesauce. “Now just hear me out before you give me opinions, okay?” she asked.

Emmie took a small cup down from the cabinet and poured a little of the liquid into it. Then she sat the cup down next to him. “Taste it.” She had that same mad-scientist look in her eyes as she did the day she made that first batch of paste for him.

He picked up the cup and threw back the drink. Sweet, warm, spice. It was good. “Ya making drinks now, girl? Cause you’ll want to be careful with this stuff.”

“Walt, it’s not for me. It’s for you. To help you pick up business. I figured if you had something better to offer it might take out the competition.”

“Competition,” he laughed at first then fell stone silent thinking about Ronnie. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about. This ain’t some kind of baseball game, child.”

Emmie was so tired of hearing that she was a child. She was twenty-one years old for goodness sake. Most girls her age were getting married, having kids. She did know about this—he was wrong.

“You think I don’t know? I know what this is. I also know this will sell. Last night I drank something called Georgia’s peach ’shine at a…” she started to tell him everything but stopped herself not wanting to get anyone in trouble. She didn’t really know if he was supposed to know about the speak. “Well, it doesn’t matter where but it was good. People are buying this stuff, Walt. I promise.” Her eyes widened as she spoke. She pulled out a chair and sat at the table across him.

If he were a younger man, he’d be angry with her for her mouthing back at him like that. But he was old enough to know she was just a child—just a child without a clue about the road she was driving herself down. He had to do the right thing and get her out of this.

“Emmie, I appreciate you trying to help out,” he paused, “but I don’t know nobody that’s looking for apple pie tasting moonshine. You know I’m selling to people my age that like the burning taste of this white lightning. No matter how good that stuff is, they wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

“But you could find new clients. Try to sell it to people like Ava or me that don’t really drink much and don’t like that strong taste. Just social drinkers, ya know?” she suggested.

Walter looked mildly amused. “You want me to walk around town and ask young girls if they want some of my apple pie ’shine? I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t have a good ending for me.”

She looked at him annoyed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, I know what you meant. But there’s stuff about this business you don’t know and I don’t want you to know. I appreciate you looking out for me and trying to boost my sale but you’re staying out of it. Here’s the new plan…” He took out his pipe and lit it, taking a few puffs before he finished speaking, “I’m gonna take that ’shine outta your pantry because you don’t need that in your house and I’ve got a place to hide it. When I sell it, half the money is yours. That should knock a dent in that tuition money that you need for next year. In the meantime, you’re gonna have nothing to do with any of this. We’re just going to go on living our life like normal. I’m going to keep doing what I do and you’re going to keep working there at Mr. Thomas’s store and tutoring Max. You’ll get to start that college next year. That’s the best I can do Emmie. I hope you know that.”

“Walter, I cannot just take your money,” she started quietly.

“You’re not. It was Ronnie’s ’shine too. Think of it as an inheritance. He didn’t leave you anything else.”

“What about the paste?” she asked.

“Child, with as much ’shine as you have in that pantry, it’s gonna be awhile before I need to make more.” He then added, “It’s better this way, trust me.”

She nodded but she sure wished they could have had this conversation yesterday.

He stood and walked over to the pantry, opened the door and looked back at her confused. “Emmie, what happened to the ’shine?” It was gone.

“Well, I guess I should have asked you first but…” She turned to look at the floor next to the stove. He followed her eyes.

“Oh for Christ’s sakes, Emmie. What in the world have you done?” he sighed, walking over to the stacks of amber-colored liquid.

“I’m sorry Walter. I really thought I was helping.” She felt her eyes well up. That made her angry. Really, of all the things she’d been through in the last few months, this was what she was going to cry over. The fact she made some apple moonshine that Walter didn’t want. But she couldn’t help it. Her throat swelled so she could no longer speak. She’d screwed up big time. Ruined no telling how much money of Walter’s ’shine all over a stupid idea. The whole thing was dumb. He was right. What did she know about any of this?

She walked over to the pantry and pulled out one of the empty crates she’d found in the barn. She neatly packed a few jars of the applesauce she’d made for Walter to take home to his family. Emmie got them all packed and loaded carefully in the front seat of his truck. As she walked back into the kitchen she found Walter holding a bottle of the apple pie ’shine. He was inspecting it like it was a fine piece of china. Running his wrinkled fingers over the smooth glass and the little scrap of blue-checkered fabric she had added to the top, just to pretty it up.

“It’s the nicest looking ’shine bottle I’ve ever seen. I know you was just trying to help,” he said, looking at her. He walked over to the pantry, grabbed a few more empty crates and started filling them with the apple pie ’shine.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Packing up the moonshine like I came here to do,” he answered.

“You don’t need to take this. I can figure out how to get rid of it.”

“Emmie, I am not leaving you with this ’shine in your house. I’ll figure this out. My friends like apple pie so I’m sure they’ll like this too,” he smiled at her.

Emmie was pretty sure there was nothing else he could say to make her feel any worse. She knew better than to offer to help solve this again. There was no way he would let her. “Can I keep a couple jars? I mean for Ava and her brother?” she added.

“Sure, just keep them hidden until you give it to them.” He handed her two of the jars. She set them on the counter.

Together they carried the crates to the truck, covered them with blankets, and then stacked some bales of straw on top to hide the glass jars. He probably wouldn’t run into anyone on the short drive to his home but you couldn’t be too safe. The eighteenth left no loopholes for a farmer hauling moonshine.

“I’m sorry, Walt,” she said again.

“Shush. I ain’t listening to your apologies. You was just trying to help. I’ve been around these hills long enough to know things always works out,” he said then climbed into the truck and drove away.

Emmie waved goodbye until she could no longer see his truck. She stepped off the porch, walked up the hill, sat on her Mama’s grave, and let the tears flow freely down her cheeks. Not even bothering to hold back. What would her mama think of the person she had become? It was so far from the life she had planned.

Chapter Twenty

S
ilas was exhausted. Thank God it was Saturday and he didn’t have to spend this morning at his uncle’s law firm. He brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face in an attempt to wake up. It didn’t seem to be working. His bare feet led him downstairs where he could smell freshly brewed coffee. Trick must already be awake.

“You look like death, brother. What happened last night?” Trick asked with a smile. The last time he saw Silas he was driving away in the middle of the night with a beautiful girl. Death was not exactly what he had expected Silas to look like this morning.

Silas just shook his head and rubbed his jaw. He helped himself to a cup of black coffee and sat down across from his brother.

“Did something happen when ya dropped Emmie off?” Trick pushed further.