Page 139 of This is Why We Lied

“Jesus,” she whispered.

“Jesus yourself.” Will caught a whiff of alcohol on her breath. “You smell like lighter fluid.”

Sara pressed her lips together. She waited. When he didn’t speak, she asked, “Are you finished?”

Will shrugged. “What else is there to say?”

“When I ran off on my own, I found Jon. He’s staying in cottage nine, which is over there. I don’t want him hearing what I have to say.”

Will looked over the top of her head. He could see the sloped shingled roof nestled in the trees. “I searched it this morning when I was looking for Dave. Jon must’ve gone there after I left.”

Sara didn’t comment. She started back down the trail. Will followed behind her again. He wondered if Jon was still in the cabin, and if so, how much he’d heard. Will had only raised his voice about the alcohol. He knew that he was too uptight about drinking. But it had been strange that Sara had taken a sip from Monica’s glass. Which made him start wondering what Sara had meant when she’d told Will that she didn’t want Jon hearing what she had to say.

He didn’t have to wait much longer. Sara stopped a few yards from their own cottage. She looked up at him. “The side-business that Mercy, Christopher and Chuck are involved in. What are your theories?”

He hadn’t gone into the theories yet. “The property is buffered by a state and national forest. Maybe illegal timber harvesting?”

“Timber?”

“The woodpile has some expensive species—chestnut, maple, acacia.”

“Okay, that makes sense.” Sara was nodding her head. “The app guys told me the bourbon tasted like turpentine. Monica is drinking top-shelf whiskey, but it tastes and smells like lighter fluid. She was on the edge of alcohol poisoning last night, but both she and Frank were surprised because usually she can handle it better. And twenty minutes ago, Keisha asked me if we’d tried the liquor. She warned me off it, and then launched into a speech about liability if a guest has to be airlifted off the mountain.”

Will felt blind for not putting it together sooner. “You think the business Chuck and Christopher were talking about is selling bootleg liquor.”

“Keisha and Drew run a catering business. They would notice if the alcohol was off. Maybe they brought it up with Cecil and Bitty. Some of the higher-end brands have a smokey flavor. Oak, mesquite—”

“Chestnut, maple, acacia?”

“Yes.”

Will kept going back to the conversation he’d heard on the trail behind the dining hall. “Chuck told Christopher, ‘A lot of people are depending on us’. Amanda said Chuck’s social media puts him in a lot of strip clubs.”

“Where there’s usually a two-drink minimum.”

Will asked, “Do you think Drew went to Bitty because they wanted a piece?”

“I don’t think so,” Sara said. “Maybe I’m giving them too much of the benefit of the doubt, but Keisha and Drew loved it up here. It seems more likely they were trying to stop it. Keisha flagged the liability. She warned me off drinking anything. I don’t see her going in to something where she knows that people could die. Plus, think about what she said about trading information. She wouldn’t give up Drew. She was giving up the bootlegging.”

“Their credit check came back clean. They’re not sitting on piles of cash.” Will rubbed his jaw. He was still missing something. “The thing that’s not adding up is, why kill Mercy and Chuck when you can kill Drew?”

“You’re the one who likes a money motive,” Sara said. “With Mercy and Chuck gone, Christopher gets whatever money is in the pot, plus he gets the business to himself. Then he ties up Drew with a murder charge.”

Will pulled out his phone, he pressed the walkie. “Kevin, update?”

“Just a couple of dudes sitting by the lake drinking some beers.”

Will caught Sara’s worried expression. Chuck’s water had been spiked with some kind of poison and now the guy who had the most access to Chuck had served Drew a beer. “Kevin, try to keep them from drinking anything, but don’t let them know what you’re doing.”

“On it.”

Will started to go, but then he remembered Sara.

“Go,” she said. “I’ll stay here.”

Will clipped the phone on his belt as he ran toward the lake. He passed the fork, the lookout bench. He didn’t know much about liquor, but he knew everything about the state and federal laws restricting the unlicensed manufacture, transportation, distribution, and sale of alcohol. The question he needed to answer most was how they were doing it. Testing the bottles of alcohol on the property would take weeks. Were they substituting cheaper stuff for top-shelf, which would cost them their liquor license and a heavy fine? Or were they making it themselves, which broke all kinds of state and federal laws?

Will took the dogleg down toward the shed. He could see ahead to the lake. There were two empty lawn chairs, each with a can of beer in the plastic cupholder. Kevin was lying on the ground holding his leg. Christopher and Drew were standing over him. Will’s heart felt like it had been sucked into a vacuum hose, but then he realized that Kevin had found a way to keep the men from drinking.

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