Page 13 of Any Luck at All

“Me too,” he admitted. “What’s your poison?”

She pursed her lips, then asked, “Do you think Beau had any wine?”

Good lord.

Chapter Five

River stared at Georgie like she had grown horns.

“I take that as a no?”

His mouth lifted into an amused grin. “There might be a bottle in the basement, although I can’t guarantee it won’t be dusty. I can go check.”

She eyed the door he’d emerged from when he’d scared the bejesus out of her.

She’d been a championship-winning softball player in the sixth grade. River was lucky the cat had messed with her aim.

After the reading, Dottie had followed her out of the room, knitting still in hand. Close up, the hot pink sweater was obviously intended for an animal, not a baby. Jezebel? No, not even Dottie would attempt to dress up that cat, let alone in something like that. The cat would surely think it beneath her dignity.

“Here, dear,” Dottie had said, handing over a key ring boasting a single key and a tarot card keychain. The Wheel of Fortune. “You’ll need that. I imagine you’ll want to see the house before you make up your mind.”

Before she could even get out a thank you, Dottie had pulled out the big hunk of pink crystal from her bag. “Something tells me you’ll be needing this too.”

The power of suggestion being what it was, her thoughts had jumped to that crystal and the “something” Dottie had warned her about the moment the door creaked. Hence her leap to violence.

While she’d hoped to be alone, to have some time to think everything over before she met her siblings for the breakfast she’d arranged by text after storming out of the lawyer’s office, she’d been surprisingly glad to see River, and not just because he looked better in worn jeans and a T-shirt than he had in his ill-fitting suit. She wanted to know the man who’d inspired her grandfather to give him that watch.

“I can go down with you. I might as well take a look. Beau invited me to stay with him when I came to town a few weeks ago, but I didn’t want to be any trouble. I’ve only seen a bit of the house.”

He started to say something, then stopped. “Yeah. It might be a good idea to introduce you to Beau’s world.”

She was about to ask what he meant by that, but he’d already turned around and started down the dimly lit stairs. She followed him, and he called over his shoulder, “Be sure to close the door or Jezebel might come down.”

“And that would be a bad thing?” What was she thinking? If she left it open, the cat might descend into the basement, looking for her portal to hell.

She shut the door, making the staircase even darker. The smell of yeast hit her nose, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten for hours.

“I think the light bulb’s burnt out,” River said. “I’ll change it before I go.”

“And here I was about to ask if you were a serial killer luring me down to your killing room, but the light bulb offer has me second-guessing.”

“No self-respecting serial killer would offer to change a light bulb,” River joked. “Not very intimidating.”

Georgie reached the bottom of the steps and came to a halt when she saw a worktable covered with multiple glass bottles the size of watercooler jugs filled halfway full with pinkish liquid. It looked like a homegrown science experiment.

“Grandpa Beau wasn’t making meth down here, was he?”

River chuckled. “No, it was a beer competition.”

“Really? I thought he made beer at the brewery. He showed me the tanks and everything.”

“This was a competition between me, Beau, and Finn.”

“Who’s Finn?”

His smile faltered, making her regret asking. “My partner.” He shook his head, and when he spoke again his tone was darker, angrier. “My boss. Or used to be.”

He walked past the table toward a fridge so old it looked like it had come from the set of a period piece, but he didn’t open it, instead looking in a cabinet above it.

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