Page 87 of Whiskey Kisses

“I don’t know yet, but will you reconsider Boston?” he asks. “Just until this craziness dies down?”

“Stop asking me that, Tristan.” I can’t cut and run, especially now. Exhausted, I shake my head. “The cops are gonna want to talk to me,and I need to be close during the investigation. And we have a funeral to plan—I need to be here.”

“You’re right. Okay,” he says simply. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The grandfather clock in the living room chimes twice for two o’clock, a reminder that life continues on even though things feel like they’ve come to a standstill for me. I grab my napkin, wiping at my nose. I never thought I’d be planning my own father’s funeral at twenty-three.

24.Tristan

Ikeep waiting for the phone call.

The one wanting to know why I didn’t show up at the rendezvous point last night at eight. I know it’s coming. Guys like that don’t take kindly to being stood up. I’d know, because I’m the same way.

But fuck Danny Deschamps and his demands. My wife’s father was just murdered and left like trash in a grassy lot outside town. I wasn’t about to abandon her at a time like that, even if she did spend the rest of the day hiding in bed. I needed to stay close by in case she needed me, and even if she didn’t.

Not going to the meetup was a risk, but going knowing that there was a possibility I might not make it back was an even bigger one. And I just wasn’t willing to take it. Not last night, and maybe not ever, depending on what the Deschamps want from me.

If the Deschamps were behind Randall’s death, did they want the body to be found when it was? Or was that a coincidence? Regardless, they must realize that a murder this close to my family is going to make me cautious.

After working out the next morning, Alex, Finn and I drive over to the distillery. I have a nine o’clock meeting with the accounting firm to goover the results of their audit. Then I’ll check in on Scott and the rest of the management team to see how things are going.

I call my father on the way, filling him in on the latest. While dismayed at the news, he’s not all that surprised. Randall fucked around a little too much and finally found out, unfortunately.

“I don’t like this,” he says. “What if whoever killed Randall has their sights set on you or Evie?”

“I know,” I say grimly. “But we got this. I got a good team down here and Evie’s house is on gated property. Full security system.”

“You got guys watching the cameras?”

“Always.”

“What about the gate?”

“Four-hour shifts, 24/7.”

“Good, good. What about dogs?”

I wince. “Evie has two cats.”

“Cats,” he says derisively. “Nothing better than dogs when it comes to keeping your family safe, Tristan. Get a couple, train ‘em, and let ‘em roam the grounds.”

The thought has crossed my mind, but getting dogs down here always felt so domestic and permanent. Like I was settling into Savannah for good. But maybe it’s time to stop looking at it like that. Evie and I are permanent, no matter where we live, and I need for our home to be as secure as possible.

“That’s gonna take some convincing with Evie,” I hedge.

“Well, convince her,” says Dad. “Hold on, your mother wants to speak to you.”

“Hi, honey,” Mom says a second later. “I’m so sorry to hear about Randy, God rest his soul. Listen, I’m thinking about coming down tomorrow.”

“What?” I laugh incredulously, though nothing about her announcement is amusing. “Ma, no. It’s turning into a circus down here, and it’s way too dangerous. I was actually gonna try and send Evie up to you guys, but she won’t go.”

“Of course she won’t,” she says, her tone softening. “She wants to stay where she feels needed, you know? And she probably wants to be close to her dad even if he’s gone. I felt the same way when Pop died.”

Pressing my lips between my teeth, I pull down the road leading to the distillery. “Has Dad told you anything about the situation down here?”

“He tells me everything,” she chides. “You know that.”

“And he’s okay with you coming down here? Knowing how hostile it’s getting?”

---