For Love & Bourbon (9 page)

They pulled onto the tree-lined gravel road that led away from the distillery. Sunlight broke through the canopy of leaves overhead, bits of blue sky visible through all the shivering gold.

“The house is just a ways up here,” Ava informed him. “My mother will likely be home. You are not allowed to speak to her. We go in together, get the laptop, and then I drive you back to your car. No snooping around and no questions without our lawyer.”

Cooper bowed his head. “Understood.”

For a while they drove in silence. He took in the sights around him, charmed by the countryside. He could see the appeal of it; the miles of open grassland and pockets of forest, the ground sloping in gentle hills. There was a reason people escaped the city for the sanctuary of dusty back roads and cozy little towns, though he knew the monotony of it would drive him mad.

Then again, the woman beside him was anything but boring. He sincerely regretted that he may have lost the opportunity to get to know her better.

“So, you grew up here?”

“I said no questions,” she growled, clenching her jaw. When he said nothing else, her temper deflated. She brushed strands of hair from her face, annoyed with herself for feeling the need to be polite. “Yes. I was born on this very property.”

When he gave her a surprised look, she frowned. “What?”

“Next thing you’ll tell me is they gave you whiskey instead of milk as a kid.”

Sarcasm and humor softened the tension in her shoulders. “That’s right. Can’t be initiated into the family until you can polish off an entire bottle of bourbon in an hour. Gotta train for years, so we start young.”

Seeing his expression wrought with confused horror gave her an immense rush of pleasure. “I’m just kidding, Slick. Don’t get your panties in a knot.”

He let out a half-laugh. “Right. I’m not usually so gullible.”

“Neither am I.” She turned her eyes back to the road. “Still got nice and fooled by you, though.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I don’t want to hear it, anyway.”

They came around a bend that opened up to a sprawling ranch house nestled on a quiet corner of the property dotted with trees. Ava parked in front of it and cut the engine.

“Remember what I said.” She hopped out and sauntered up the front steps of the house, leaving him to trail behind.

He followed her in, overtaken by the smell of freshly baked apple pie and cinnamon. He breathed it in, his mouth watering. “Now
that’s
what home should smell like.”

Unable to help it, Ava filled with pride. “I agree.”

They cut through the cozily furnished living room with its rustic leather sofas and brick fireplace, heading for a room at the end of a long hallway. Cooper’s eyes caught the family portraits lining the hall, seeing glimpses of Ava as a child, attached at the hip to a young boy whose face mirrored her own.

He recalled seeing the man in the portrait hanging in Ty’s office, but hadn’t given him much thought until now. “You have a brother?”

Ava pursed her lips and faced him as she stopped before her father’s office. “You just can’t help it, can you? You have to know the how and the why of everything. It’s infuriating.”

He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Yeah, well part of our arrangement was that you’d check that curiosity at the door.” She swept into the office, prompting him to follow. There was a laptop resting on the antique walnut desk that she hastily stuffed into a sleek black case and handed to him. “There you go. Now get the hell out.”

He slung the laptop case over his shoulder and glanced around the office. It had a lovely view of the garden outside, where he could see a woman wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat busily tending rose bushes.

He started to ask if that was her mother, then bit his tongue. The woman was her spitting image, anyway. Though softer, more elegant in the way she moved that contrasted with Ava’s intensity.

As Ty Brannon’s wife, would the woman know of his connection to the IRA? Or was she just as clueless as he was willing to bet Ava and her grandfather were?

Returning his attention to Ava, he nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch if I need anything else.”

“I’m sure you will.” She ushered him out of the room and shut the door, then forced him back out of the house. Once they were seated in the four-wheeler, she let out a huff of breath and met his eyes. “Why can’t you tell me what this is all about? Seems a bit unfair, don’t you think? I just have to let you into my home and hand over my property without a clue what you’re after.”

He cradled the case in his lap and studied her. “The warrant details what we’re looking for.”

“No, it says what you’ll be looking
at
, but not what
for
.” Frustrated, she started the engine and headed back to the distillery. “Is my father in some kind of trouble?”

“Some kind, yeah.” He tried to keep his voice light but the truth made it difficult. “My partner’s downtown meeting with him right now. The office will need to be closed temporarily while we investigate.”

A sick feeling came over her. “How long?”

“However long it takes for us to find what we’re looking for.”

“And if you don’t?”

His fingers tightened over the laptop case. “Then he’s an innocent man and we’ll get out of your hair.”

A sardonic laugh slipped out of her. “But not before turning our lives upside down.”

He said nothing as he looked away, reminding himself of the reason for the investigation in the first place. There was blood on Ty Brannon’s hands, he was sure of it. And if exposing the truth made him the bad guy in Ava’s eyes, then so be it.

In the end, all that mattered was getting justice.

A
dam brought the glass of bourbon to his lips, savored the taste. His eyes caught Brandy’s as she slipped out of the back room, having just clocked in for the night. The flush that brightened her cheeks and the downturn of her lips brought on an unwelcome rush of guilt.

Though she looked like she’d prefer to run the other way, out of duty she went straight to him. “Can I get you anything?”

He set his glass down on the bar, jostled the ice around absently. His eyes remained locked on hers. “You still upset with me?”

She shifted her weight, eyed the other bartender who was busy tending a cluster of tourists fresh from the Lucky Fox distillery. “No. Why would I be mad?”

“You know why.” Irritation flooded him as he knocked back the last of his drink and motioned with the glass for another.

Brandy turned to grab the bottle, buying herself a moment’s time to collect herself. When she faced him again, she was smiling. “Rebecca said she had fun with you the other night. She was sorry to have to leave so soon.”

“I don’t give a shit about your damn cousin, okay? I was just having a good time. It didn’t mean anything.”

She stiffened and poured him two fingers of bourbon. “That’s nice. It didn’t mean anything to me, either.”

“Then why are you actin’ like you’re pissed at me?” he demanded, his upper lip curling with disgust at both himself and her. “I swear, everything I do seems to rile somebody up. Between you and my sister I just can’t catch a goddamn break.”

Brandy softened, sympathy in her eyes. “Well, I’m not angry with you. So don’t worry.”

It only bothered him more that she could cave so easily. Could forgive, forget. He’d never known how to pull off such a trick and knew he sure as hell didn’t deserve her complacency. “Brandy, for once could you just grow a spine and yell at me, throw something, anything? All this passive-aggressive bullshit is driving me insane.”

Her lips parted with insult and surprise at his outburst. Her hands shook as she wiped them on her apron. “Either I’m too mad or I’m not mad enough, Adam. A girl can’t see straight when you’re shiftin’ moods like this. Excuse me.”

She left to greet a few newcomers at the bar, employees from the distillery. Adam frowned at his drink and closed his eyes, trying to clear the image of her distressed face from his mind. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, though yet again his temper had walked off with his tongue.

Gulping down his bourbon, he felt someone sit beside him. When he lifted his head, he saw Beau, looking smug.

“Well, Brannon, sounds like you got yourself a big problem.”

Adam didn’t want to take the bait, but couldn’t help himself. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Word is the FBI was flashin’ warrants around at the distillery and the downtown office today. I’ll be meetin’ with them tomorrow to find out what’s goin’ on, but the whole town’s a-buzzin’.”

Adam’s brow furrowed as he faced Beau. “What the hell are you talking about?”

A slimy, delighted grin formed over Beau’s lips. “Current theory is the old man’s being deported back to Ireland for cookin’ the books. Know anything about that?”

It took all he had not to laugh. He waved off Beau’s claims carelessly. “Why don’t you go gossip with the old biddies at the hair salon and leave me the hell alone?”

“It ain’t gossip, son.” Beau shifted in his seat, whistled the distillery employees over. They approached, eyes alight with excitement. “Boys, tell Brannon here what y’all told me.”

Adam lifted his gaze, a feeling of panic rising up within him as the employees related what they had witnessed in the barrel house between Ava and the man bearing an FBI badge and a warrant.

“Christ,” he muttered, catching Brandy’s eye as she hurried over.

“Everything all right?” she asked, resisting the urge to comfort him. He was white as a sheet.

He nodded, not even realizing he was doing it. It felt like his head floated above his body. “Yeah, darlin’. Excuse me.”

Resisting the desire to punch Beau in the face simply for being there, he fled the bar and went straight home.

WHEN THE
front door opened, Ava pounced. Seeing it was only Adam had her cursing aloud.

He rounded on her. “What is this shit I hear about the FBI?”

“I don’t know,” Ava fired back, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Daddy won’t answer his cell. I called the office but he’s not there. I don’t know what’s happened to him.”

“He’s probably just taking some time to cool off,” Sandra suggested, her face lined with worry despite the smile she offered up. She sat on the sofa, her hand locked in Joe’s. “When he gets home, I’m sure y’all will get the answers you need.”

“I better.” Festering with anger, Ava paced the living room.

Adam leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “The whole town’s talking about this.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Ava snapped.

His eyes narrowed. “I had to hear it from Beau. Would’ve been nice of you to give me a head’s up.”

“And tell you what? I don’t have a clue what they’re after.” Ava tossed up her hands in defeat. “He wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“The FBI agent?”

“Yeah.” She stopped pacing and took a deep breath, held it, released. A scowl tightened her face at the memory. “Agent Cooper Lawson. Bastard came into the distillery for a tour yesterday, acting like some normal guy. Then he comes back today and flashes his badge in my face with a goddamn warrant.”