Truth or Beard

by Penny Reid

  “I’ve already purchased our plane tickets and called Kip Sylvester at the school to explain things. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Your momma will need your help.”

  I nodded numbly. “Yeah. Thank you. That makes sense.”

  My daddy stirred a bit in his seat, then leaned away. I sensed his eyes on me so I lifted my gaze.

  After a long moment he said, “This might be unseemly to discuss before your aunt is laid to rest, but I think I need to warn you about something before we get to Texas.”

  “Warn me? About what?”

  I watched as my daddy gathered a deep breath, then released it slowly. His words were halting as he said, “The thing is, Jessica…your aunt Louisa… she was your…well, she was very wealthy. And you spent a lot of time with her, more than anyone else. I think you need to prepare yourself for a significant inheritance.”

  “Uh…what?”

  If possible, my father looked even more mournful as he explained, “Your momma has seen the will. Baby girl, I don’t know how else to break this to you, but Louisa left you everything. She left you the house, her engineering patents, the farm, and all her money. We’re talking several million dollars.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.”

  ― Herman Melville

  ~Duane~

  We were cutting it close.

  After dropping Jess off, I drove back to the house and jumped into Beau’s car. He’d been waiting for me, sitting in the dark, inside his red 1967 Pontiac GTO, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. I knew we were running late. If we were lucky we’d arrive at the meeting spot just on time.

  Jessica James was distracting. She’d been occupying my thoughts with more and more frequency. And now I was making new plans. These plans only served to increase my level of distraction. Showing Jess the cabin hadn’t been premeditated. But when I realized I would need to borrow Billy’s truck in order to take her home, I’d exploited the opportunity.

  “Smart move, taking Billy’s truck.” My twin checked his rearview mirror as we pulled onto Moth Run, the paved road adjacent to our property. “The Order knows not to come within ten feet of Billy, no way in hell they’d follow his truck.”

  I nodded, because it had been a smart move. But I didn’t share that avoiding the Order hadn’t been my only reason for taking the truck. But avoiding the Order was the reason I hadn’t given the Mustang back to Jessica yet.

  Both Beau and I were quickly proven right about taking Billy’s truck when four motorcycles separated from the darkness and easily caught up with Beau’s Pontiac.

  “These guys are so stupid.” Beau’s face was twisted with irritation and impatience, an unusual expression for him. “What do they think we’re going to do? Try to leave town undetected in my red GTO? Everyone knows this is my car. What a bunch of morons.”

  Before I could add a layer of colorful trash-talk, my cell rang.

  “Who is it?” Beau’s eyes flickered between me and the road.

  “I don’t know. I don’t recognize the number.”

  Beau glanced at the screen then back out the windshield. “It might be Repo. He uses burners.”

  Burners, of course, being disposable cell phones thrown away before they can be traced.

  Figuring Beau was probably right, I swiped my thumb across the screen and answered, “What?”

  “You’re finally leaving the house.” Repo’s raspy voice emerged from the other end.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So, you’re late.”

  “Not yet.”

  Repo chuckled. “I guess you still have a few minutes. While I have you, why don’t you tell me what Claire McClure was doing at your house earlier?”

  I frowned and answered automatically and truthfully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t see Claire at the house.”

  “Our boys saw her pull into your drive around five this evening, and then leave a few minutes later. You know her daddy is my president, right? I don’t think he’d like one of you Winston boys messing with his daughter.”

  “Like I said, I didn’t know she was there. What and who my brothers do is none of my business, and it ain’t yours either. And why are your recruits watching our house?”

  I knew I was being followed, but I didn’t know the Order was watching the house. And I wasn’t going to volunteer that Claire must’ve been the one to drop off Jessica. Given the fact the Order had at least our driveway under surveillance, I was relieved Jess hadn’t driven over on her own. If she’d borrowed her daddy’s car I was certain I would now be getting shit from Repo about my relationship with the Sheriff’s daughter. Again.

  I’d been avoiding her for the last few days for this very reason, hoping they’d stop shadowing me after tonight’s meeting.

  Instead of answering my question, Repo lowered his voice and said, “None of your brothers better be doing anything with Claire. That girl is the property of the Order.”

  My instinct was to argue, point out that Claire McClure hated them almost as much as we did, and would raise hell if she heard anyone say she was property.

  Instead, I fought my urge to throw the phone out the window or smash it against the dashboard. “I have to talk to your ugly face in ten minutes, so I’m hanging up now.”

  And I did.

  Beau smirked at me. “I fucking hate that guy.”

  “Nothing to like,” I agreed, my tone flat, still tempted to beat the shit out of my phone. Something needed to be smashed.

  “Tina returned any of your calls yet?”

  I shook my head, deciding to place the phone in the glove box, out of my reach. “No. Just text messages telling me to bring you to the Pink Pony. You?”

  “Nope. I figure she wants us to go to the club and have a chat in person.”

  I glanced out the side mirror at the four motorcycle headlights and flexed my jaw. “I think so, too. We’ll have to pay a visit.”

  “Tomorrow night, you think? Or Friday?”

  I shrugged. Either would work. Since Tina wouldn’t return my messages with anything other than invitations to watch her dance, I’d called Hank Weller, the owner of the Pink Pony, and asked for Tina’s schedule. She was no longer stripping Sunday through Thursday, only on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Hank also volunteered that she’d been spending more and more time at the Dragon Biker Bar, entertaining the Order.

  At this point I wasn’t convinced she’d help us at all. Her loyalty might rest firmly with the bikers—what little loyalty she had. Still, it was worth a shot to feel her out, see if she’d be willing.

  “You ready to do this?” To anyone else, Beau would probably sound like his normal, good-humored self. To me, his levity sounded fake, forced, a cover for anger and determination.

  “I’m ready.”

  I wasn’t nervous or afraid, these morons didn’t scare me. They pissed me off. And I was ready for this annoying game to be over.

  ***

  As soon as we pulled up to the meeting spot—an abandoned barn about three miles from the Dragon Biker Bar—bikers swarmed our car and “escorted” us inside. Repo was sitting calmly by the door. Dirty Dave was pacing the dirt floor. In total, there were ten of them and two of us.

  I sized each one up with detachment and decided, if all six of us Winston boys had been present, we’d likely be evenly matched.

  “You ain’t stupid, but you’re reckless. Which can be difficult to tell apart, especially when the end result is the same.” Repo greeted me with these words, not standing as we entered. His expression was outwardly friendly, but I could see simmering anger behind his black eyes. He didn’t like that I’d hung up on him and I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

  “Now hold on, Duane.” Beau gave both me and Repo a valiantly convincing smile. “I haven’t seen Uncle Repo in a wh
ile.”

  My response to these staged words was authentic. I tried not to gag. How Beau could say such shit with a straight face—and believably—was a miracle.

  Most of the fury behind Repo’s expression eased and he stood to shake Beau’s hand. I crossed my arms over my chest. No fucking way I was shaking hands with these douche canoes. Luckily, my honest reaction was also the part I’d been assigned.

  I was bad cop. Beau was good cop.

  Thus, I stood passively as Beau and Repo exchanged pleasantries, noticing that the other nine bikers appeared to take their cues from Repo. They all visibly relaxed when they saw how friendly Beau and Repo were. Even Dirty Dave smiled at Beau, shaking his hand, calling him son instead of boy.

  My twin had this effect on people, because he was so gifted at being insincere. I was convinced he could bullshit his way out of a federal prison if the need ever arose. He’d inherited our father’s gift of artless charm. Jethro, my oldest brother, had similar abilities. Roscoe, the youngest, was a close third.

  Cletus, Ashley, and I possessed my mother’s temperament, too candid for our own good. And Billy turned his charm on and off like a switch. He used it when it served his purposes, but I could tell he hated every minute of it.

  But unlike our father, and despite their charisma, my siblings were good people, worthy of my respect and trust. Well, actually…Jethro was questionable at times. Regardless, I’d do just about anything for all of them.

  Eventually I grew tired of watching Beau make everyone laugh. “Are we going to get down to business anytime soon?”

  The laughter tapered and Repo’s eyes slithered back to me, though he now appeared to be in a much better mood. “Sure thing, Duane. You boys ready to discuss terms of the partnership? I think you’ll find our offer of a thirty-seventy split more than fair.”

  “Depends on who gets the thirty percent and who gets the seventy percent,” Beau quipped, making Dirty Dave chuckle like a bashful school girl.

  “Now hold on.” I shook my head and stepped forward. “We haven’t agreed to anything.”

  “Then what are we doing here, boy?” Dirty Dave lifted his fat finger like he was going to wave it in my face. But something in my expression must’ve given him pause, because he settled for sticking out his chin and barrel chest.

  “Like I said, we haven’t agreed to anything.”

  “You’re trying my patience, Duane,” Repo said, sounding more tired than angry.

  Beau cut in, “What Duane means is, we can’t agree to something we’re not sure we can deliver.”

  Repo narrowed his eyes—with confusion, not suspicion—and glanced between the two of us. “What does that mean?”

  “It means we can’t use our shop for this operation. Its location is too public, and I don’t think anyone here wants us to get caught before we get started.” Beau’s words were entirely reasonable.

  Repo nodded. “Okay. Fair point. I’m listening.”

  I spoke next, because the plan was for me to break the bad news in a completely irritating way while Beau re-explained it, making it sound more palatable.

  “So we’re not going to do it,” I stated, maybe with more belligerence than was called for.

  “What Duane means,” Beau glanced at me like he was exasperated with my attitude, “is that we can’t do it, not until a suitable location is found.”

  Dirty Dave shrugged and said just as we thought he would, “That’s easy, use Brick and Mortar’s shop.”

  “Can’t.” I shook my head stubbornly. “First of all, it’s associated with the Order. Secondly, I overheard Jackson James mention their office is working on a warrant for that place.”

  Repo’s eyes narrowed further. “You overheard?”

  “Yep. Why do you think I’ve been so friendly with his sister?” I hoped Repo would believe this explanation for many reasons, not the least of which was that—if he did—then I’d be able to go about my business with Jess and not have to suffer through Repo’s reprimands and disapproval. But more than that, I hoped this version of my motivations would keep Jessica safe. I needed her safe and far away from this mess.

  Thus, I was surprised by Repo’s answering thunderous expression and raised voice. “You’re using that girl, boy? You hurt her I will break you in two!”

  Beau stepped between us. “Now come on, Repo. You’ve known us since we were babies. You know Duane. Do you think Duane would be able run a con on someone as clever as Jessica James?”

  I should have been insulted by Beau’s insinuation that Jessica was my superior in intelligence, but I wasn’t. This was because he was likely right. Jess was smart. But I wasn’t intimated by her intellect, likely because—when paired with her sweetness—it turned me on so much.

  Beau continued, “All he’s saying is that he’s taking advantage of a rare opportunity—access to the James’s household. That’s not using Miss James. That’s being resourceful to all of our benefit.”

  Repo didn’t look entirely convinced and I was busy trying to figure out why he felt so invested in Jessica’s wellbeing. I thought about his comment last Saturday at Daisy’s, and wondered just how well Repo knew Jessica’s momma.

  Beau pushed the conversation back on track. “So, that’s where we are. We’ve been busy over the last two weeks. If your fine brothers here have been keeping tabs on us then they’ve probably told you about how Duane and I have been scouting locations.”

  Repo glanced at Dirty Dave. Dave gave him a short nod. Repo frowned and exhaled loudly, searching the floor as he considered the matter.

  Finally he said, “You should have contacted us. We have properties everywhere. One of them is bound to suit.”

  I shook my head. “No way. Like I said, we’re not doing this using one of your properties.”

  “Why the hell not?” Dirty Dave lifted his chin again.

  “Because nothing could be more obvious, old man. Suddenly you have two Winston brothers, auto mechanics, making frequent visits to one of your warehouses right after Brick and Mortar are put away? That’s just stupid.”

  Luckily Beau didn’t have to interpret because Repo nodded thoughtfully at my tirade. “He’s right. Better these boys find the space themselves, outfit it. The less evidence of a partnership between us the better. Bringing Brick and Mortar into the Order was a mistake. It made things difficult over the years, trying to get things done without police always doing random searches.”

  No one else noticed, but I saw Beau’s shoulders relax at Repo’s words, his smile came a bit easier. I was still outwardly scowling, but took Repo’s agreement as a victory.

  Jethro was due to return in two weeks. If we could hold the Order off for another two weeks, then maybe Jethro could help us sort this mess out without getting our hands dirty. Or maybe Tina could be convinced to wipe their files and bring us a copy.

  Either way, this was the stay of execution we needed.

  “All right, looks like we have a plan.” Beau rubbed his hands together, nodding at Dirty Dave, then at me.

  “Yeah…” Repo scrutinized Beau. “But this search can’t go on forever. You two need to find a place this week.”

  Beau chuckled, like this demand was made as a good-natured joke. “This week? Repo, we’re coming up against Thanksgiving. Ain’t no one going to meet with us about property this week. We need at least until January first.”

  “If no one will meet with you before Thanksgiving, then ain’t no one going to talk to you around Christmas neither. You have until the second week of December and that’s it.”

  I shook my head, but grumbled, “Fine. Second week of December.”

  Luckily, I was much better at pretending to be irritated than I was at pretending to be nice.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Nothing travels faster than the speed of light, with the possible exception of bad news, which obeys its own special laws.”

  ― Douglas Adams, Mostly Harmless

  ~Duane~

  Jessica: You’re pro
bably still asleep and didn’t want to wake you. On my way to Texas for a funeral, my aunt died yesterday.

  Jessica: Tell your brothers I’m sorry about dinner.

  Jessica: I’ll call you later today, I need to talk to you.

  Jessica: I miss you.

  I didn’t see Jessica’s text messages or her three missed calls until Thursday afternoon, not until Beau and I were on our way home from the shop, because I’d left my cell in Beau’s glove compartment all day.

  When I did see them, I spent the next several minutes using every curse word in my arsenal as I listened to her voicemails.

  “What the hell happened?” Beau eyeballed me from the driver’s seat.

  “Hush, I’m trying to listen.” I waved him off, restarting Jessica’s first message.

  “Hey, Duane. It’s Jess. We just landed in Houston. I wanted to talk to you before we left the airport because the reception out at the farm can be spotty. It’ll take us about an hour and a half to drive out there. Call me when you get this.” She hesitated, her voice cracking a little when she added before clicking off, “I really miss you.”

  The second message was short: “Hey, it’s me. We’re on the road now. Call when you can.”

  And my heart was in my throat as I listened to the third message: “Hi. We’re at the farm now, this number is the direct line to the house. If you call one of the staff will answer and I left instructions that they should come get me if you do. So…call me? Did I mention I miss you? …Bye.”

  I immediately hit redial, praying she’d be available to talk. As she’d warned, one of the staff picked up and placed me on hold, apparently searching the house for her.

  I could feel Beau’s split attention—between me and the mountain road—and he finally asked, “Is that Jessica? What happened? Is she okay?”

  “Shhh…” I didn’t want him distracting me. With each passing second I grew more agitated—with the wait and with myself for leaving the phone in Beau’s car.