Good Intentions (Samogon 1) (4 page)

West Virginia countryside (same night)

It was two in the morning. The light of the full moon stretched across the night sky. A light breeze stirred the cool morning air. You could smell the dampness and pastures in the wind. Thirty miles west of Charleston, West Virginia, a rural community was wakened to a fanfare of flashing lights and nonstop chatter.

ATF Agent Laurent Daniels was cold, wet, and muddy.
He hated foot chases, especially at night in the woods when he always managed to scrape his face on thorns and low hanging branches. But tonight it was all worth it. Earlier in the week, Daniels was able to squeeze a tavern owner in Charleston, who had sold a pint of white lightning to one of his undercover agents.

Moonshine was everywhere.
It didn’t bother Daniels that people enjoyed it, but rather the lack of any regulation on how it was produced. Some of the stuff was pure poison. Some people were counterfeiting tax stamps and seals in attempts to make their whiskey appear legit. The criminal element was out of control.

The white lightning his agents seized at the tavern was a high-end product.
A brand name without a name. Daniels himself enjoyed its smooth taste. It was the fifth time in West Virginia this year he had come across it, and there had been several more times over the last decade in Virginia and North Carolina. Not once had he gotten a possible identity on the bootlegger distilling the brand.

Some agents believed it was the legendary Popcorn who operated out of North Carolina.
Popcorn’s moonshine was considered the best anywhere. But this whiskey didn’t have Popcorn’s signature taste and, besides, Popcorn committed suicide two months ago after getting arrested. No, this was someone else.

At first, Daniels believed he had his ghost, the one he had been searching a decade for.

The farmhouse was elaborate in design, almost commercial like. Natural gas lines ran in as the heat source for four stills. In a storage room sat over one thousand gallons of moonshine―a bad night for this farmer.

Daniels and his undercover agents tasted several samples of the moonshine.
It wasn’t the same as they had at the tavern. The rest of the team was convinced they got the ghost, but Daniels knew better. His search would continue.

That next week Rochelle talked with Chris about the moonshine and Mikhail, trying to find out what she could.

“Rochelle, I gave that to you to have fun, not to come back with a business proposal.”

“I know, but he’
s wanting to buy it and sell it at his brother’s bar in Cincinnati.”

“Why did you mention me?
Are you stupid? You want me to go to jail?” Chris was hurt, thinking Rochelle had talked about him.

“No, I didn’t mention you.
I just said ‘a friend’ got it for me.” Rochelle suddenly realized he called her stupid. “And forget you! I’m not stupid. I’m smarter than you. I’m sure as hell not a snitch!”

“What’s the white boy want?”

“He wants a lot of it. He wants to know how much it will cost him. You know cost and logistics.” Rochelle was trying to sound smarter than Chris, still hurt that he called her stupid.

“Logistics, huh?
Gonna throw out big words now?” Chris asked with a smirk on his face. “We’ll see. I’m not making any promises.”

***

Graduation was just two days away. Louise took her daughter shopping for new clothes and to the salon to get their hair and nails done. While they were gone, Chris sat with Richard Donovan in the Donovan house.

“Chris, you’ve been real good to my family.
Sure wish you’d grab that daughter of mine and make her yours. I know you’ve been smart with all the money you’ve earned these past years. I respect you for that and how you take care of your momma, and I know she won’t be with you much longer as old and tired as she is.”

The realization that Chris’ mother wasn’t going to live forever hadn’t set in for Chris, but Rochelle’s father was right.

“Should anything ever happen to me, I’d want you to take care of my family like you do your momma.” It was the most sincere Richard Donovan had ever been with Chris.

Chris knew that Mr. Donovan was looking tired and stressed these last couple of weeks, but he thought it was just worries of one day being caught as a bootlegger.
They had both watched the news surrounding the big moonshine seizure in West Virginia. It was the closest law enforcement had been, yet they weren’t close at all.

Richard had been smart selling the vast majority of his moonshine east into West Virginia and North Carolina.
Low key was the play for him. Sell it as far away from home as feasibly possible.

Chris saw an opening and presented a proposal.
“There is a chance that an opportunity might present itself out west, Cincinnati to be exact. Word is some boys there are looking for the white lightning.”

Mr. Donovan was curious about Chris’ information and studied him.
He was worried Chris was trying to get his own customers and risking exposure to all that Richard had built up. “Chris, we’re making good money selling east. We don’t have the stills to make more lightning. We would have to run them twice as often. You gonna stay up and do that?”

“If it needs to be done, then yeah.
Why not? Taking care of family depends on money. Making money means working long hours.”

“What do you know?
Who and what are we talking about?”

Chris didn’t know how to tell him who the customer was without him knowing it was the Russian boy that Rochelle always talked about.
So, Chris just came out with it.

“Are you mad?”
Chis asked afterwards.

For the first time Richard Donovan was upset with his trusted hand.
Fortunately for Rochelle, Chris hadn’t told him that his daughter was the go-between.

Graduation day had arrived. One moment Rochelle was a grown woman, the next her parents could see only the little girl she once was. Her parents were very emotional and proud this day. It didn’t take much for Rochelle to get worked up when her father presented her with custom made emerald earrings.

“Daddy, they’re beautiful.
But they look so expensive. How? You shouldn’t have. I love them. Thank you, thank you Daddy. Momma, look, they’re beautiful!”

“You’re worth it, baby,” said her mother.
“You’ve earned them. You don’t know how proud your father and I are.”

Richard Donovan hugged his daughter and said, “All you have to do now is cho
ose a college and enroll.”

“I know
, Daddy, I know. I promise I’ll choose this next week.”

All during the graduation ceremony Louise noticed her husband was uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.
All that fried food I ate is giving me heartburn.”

But Louise could see it was more than heartburn.
“You need to see a doctor. You haven’t had an exam in years.”

“Not tonight.
Tonight is her night.”

***

After graduation, the seniors all gathered for a class party at the Alameda Hotel. Several of the kids had suites, and the school had booked the ballroom for the entire night.

As the DJ
continued mixing into the night, Mikhail and Rochelle walked over to the lobby lounge to relax. Mikhail had been waiting all week to speak to her about the moonshine.

“Did you talk to your friend?
What did he say?”

“He was upset
, thinking I mentioned his name to you.”

Feeling he was losing out on the opportunity, Mikhail injected, “Maybe I should talk to him myself.
Does he know my name?”

“No, and no.
You are not meeting my friend. He told me he would get back with me and he will.”

Rochelle could see this was all Mikhail was interested in tonight, but she wanted to talk about him staying in America.
“Why are you not going home? You didn’t even go home during Christmas break. I know you miss your family.”

“Sure, but I don’t miss Russia.
I’m spoiled over here. How everything works over here, it’s so much different at home. You would love Russia because you’re a foreigner on vacation. But you don’t live there. You didn’t grow up there.”

“But your mom and dad, your
family is in Russia. All of your friends are back home.”

“My parents won’t live forever.
My brothers are here, and I have made new friends and will continue to make friends wherever I go. What I want is to establish myself over here, like my brothers have. I will be successful here in America. In Russia I would always be a slave working for my father or someone else.”

“You’re strong to make that kind of decision,” Rochelle said.
“I envy you having that kind of strength. I can’t even decide what college to go to. But I want the same thing, to be successful in business and not dependent on another.”

Mikhail laughed.
“Love, you should come with me to Columbus. There are several colleges there. We could be partners.”

“You’re crazy.
Partners in what?”

“We could have great sex all the time, you and I.
You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

The two graduates laughed hysterically.

Early Sunday morning, a fog rolled in off the Big Sandy River and out over the Donovan farm. Richard Donovan was in the bunker bottling 250 gallons of white lightning in anticipation of some orders that would net him $10,000. As Chris was hauling the bottled whiskey up out of the bunker and into the truck, Richard called out to him.

“Chris, I’m ..
. I’m going back to the house. I need you ... I need you to finish filling these bottles and get ‘em stashed.”

“Are you alright, Mr. D?
You look like shit.” Chris had seen Richard Donovan with back aches, the flu, and on several occasions with the common cold. But Chris had never seen him looking this bad.

As Richard walked
to the house, the fog was getting thicker. He was having problems seeing.

Richard didn’t have both feet in the door before his wife noticed him, knowing something was wrong.
She quickly moved across the room and caught her husband as he collapsed to the ground. “Richard?
Oh, no. Richard!
”

***

Rochelle was on her way home. She was driving slowly, unable to see much of the road through the dense fog. She could hear a siren getting louder and louder as the on-coming vehicle approached her. As it got close, she could see the flashing lights manifesting through the fog. An ambulance sped by her heading back into town. She didn’t give it two thoughts.

When she arrived at home, she found it odd the house was wide open.
“Mom?” Usually Louise Donovan greeted her daughter and her friends from the porch of the house or from just inside the door while she hollered out from the kitchen. “Mom?” No answer.
The cars are all here
, she thought to herself.

Through the back window Rochelle spotted Chris hurrying back and forth from his truck and behind the work shed.
She made her way outside to surprise him. She slid around the far side of the building, making her way to the back corner and waited for him. When he neared she stepped out onto his path. “Hey! Whatcha doing?”

Chris was startled and visibly nervous.
Sweat poured down his forehead. Uncertain fear was in his eyes and Rochelle could see she had scared him at the wrong time.

“This ain’t the time, girl.
Why ain’t you with your dad? Your mom is looking for you. I ain’t got time for this. Go to your dad!” Chris stepped around her and kept moving in a hurried state, as if he were racing the clock.

Rochelle stood dumbfounded.
She turned to speak to him as he descended into the bunker. “Where is my dad? Why do I need to be with him?
Hey
! I’m talking to you. Why is my mom looking for me?” Rochelle’s eyes grew big as Chris came back up carrying several bottles of white lightning. Totally confused, she just stared at Chris thinking he was stashing moonshine on her dad’s farm.

Chris stopped in front of her and explained, “Your dad had a heart attack.
An ambulance took him and your mom to the hospital. You need to go, get out of here, and be with your dad. It’s bad all around.”

He took the last of the moonshine to his truck.
Rochelle didn’t register what he said about her father. She was focused on the moonshine. She made her way down the bunker. It was the first time since she was four years old that she had been down here. She was too young to have remembered what she saw. She stood at the bottom of the steps in disbelief. This wasn’t something Chris built―it was her father who had always told her to stay out of the bunker.

Chris grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.
Holding her by the shoulders, he glared at her with frustration. “Dammit, girl. What is your problem? Did you not hear a single word I said?”

Rochelle was angry.
“What is all this? I thought you bought that moonshine. Why am I just now seeing this? You’ve been lying to me, Chris!”

He pinned her against the wall to get her attention.
His anxiety grew. He didn’t know if the police were on their way back or not. “Your dad is hanging on by a thread. He may be dead. Do you give a shit?” She didn’t respond. “I asked if you care about your father?”

“Yes, I care!”

“Then get your ass to the hospital. Your mom will need you; your dad will want to see his baby girl. Now is not the time to ask questions about all this. Just go.”

Chris escorted her up the steps then released her.
Now she was panic-struck. All the joy in her life had been rocked by the thought of losing her father. Chris slid the slab cover closed and hid its presence with ground cover.

“Is he dead?”

“Baby, I don’t know. And I can’t take time right now to comfort you or go with you. You gotta be a big girl and just go. I promise I’ll see you later.”

As she got back into her car, Chris grabbed the door and held it open.
“Baby, don’t talk about what you saw here with me. That wouldn’t be cool. If your daddy ain’t dead, hearing you talk about it
will
kill him. Keep quiet. You understand?”

“Yeah, I told you I’m not stupid.
Right now I’m just thinking of him and mom.”

Rochelle sped off back into town.
Chris cleaned up the area, secured the house and started off for home with 250 gallons of hard time in the back of his truck. He had never been nervous like this, not even on his first solo delivery at seventeen.

He had been carrying a load of bottles to the truck when he first heard the sirens pulling up to the farm.
Instinctively, he dropped what he was carrying and took one step to run, but then he saw it was just an ambulance. His heart was already pounding and he froze in his tracks.

He watched as the EMTs made their way to the house and he quickly realized Richard Donovan had not been looking so good.
He ran into the house not knowing what to expect. There on the floor of the house was Richard Donovan with an oxygen mask over his face and an EMT trying to resuscitate him.

“Richard!”
Louise Donovan feared the worst.

Chris took hold of Mrs. Donovan so the EMTs could attend Richard.
As they carried him out to the ambulance for transport, Chris followed with Mrs. Donovan.

To Chris’ astonishment, two police cars were now at the farm.
One car was parked right next to Chris’ truck and all the moonshine. In all the excitement and drama, the young officers never let their attention drift from the EMTs and Mrs. Donovan. The moment they all left he began frantically moving the rest of the moonshine.

He drove back to his family’s property.
At the back of their four acres, on an adjacent piece of property that the Porters maintained, was an old cemetery. The cemetery was in poor condition and many if its tombstones and markers were damaged or had fallen over.

About a year ago Chris needed a temporary stash for holding loads of moonshine while waiting for the time to make deliveries.
Using the Donovan bunker as an idea, Chris dug an oversized grave on the edge of the cemetery. He placed a rather large wooden crate with a hinge lid and deep bottom in the grave. He then placed an old grave cover atop the empty grave. He put dirt in the grave where the cover originated, smoothed it out and covered it with sod.

It was a tight squeeze but Chris got the entire load in the crate without any real difficulty.
He sat there shaking, trying to calm down.
A hell of a time for the boss to have a stroke
, he told himself.
Too much shit for a young brother to be surprised with
. Richard Donovan’s small clandestine operation had almost been exposed. Chris still wasn’t sure it hadn’t been.

***

At the hospital, Rochelle stood outside her father’s room looking in at her mother sitting next to his bed, holding his hand in prayer, crying. Rochelle didn’t have the strength to enter the room just yet. After a few minutes of gathering herself, she entered.

Quietly she eased up behind her mom, wrapping her arms around her mother and laying her head on her mother’s shoulders.
She didn’t speak a word.

Louise found some comfort knowing her daughter was there and spoke to her husband.
“It’s okay now, poppa. Your baby girl is finally here. She made it.”

Rochelle looked upon her father’s face as her mother continued talking to him.
Richard Donovan could barely open his eyes. He couldn’t speak or move more than his hands, but he locked eyes with his daughter and held her there for all time.

Beeeep
...
The sound no loved one wants to hear filled the room as the flat line of the electrocardiograph rang out.

Rochelle stared in disbelief
, holding her breath. Tears rolled down her eyes. Louise lowered her head into her husband’s lap and wept endlessly.