Page 90 of Red Mountain Burning
He tugged on the tarp until it broke free, revealing the sign. LED lights flashed pink and yellow.
As if he were announcing the next president of the United States, Bellflour exclaimed, “Château Smooth!”
* * *
“Château Smooth?”
Otis said the words like he’d just bitten into a rotten apple. He’d gone down into the cellar to listen to the announcement Eli had recorded.
“Château Smooth,” he said again. He dropped his elbows to the old wooden table and buried his face in his hands. Still reeling from the name alone, He hadn’t even pushed play yet.
Otis poured himself a neat glass of Del Bac whiskey and pushed the cork back into the bottle. He took a long breath, staring at his phone. Eli had warned him of the contents. The name was only the beginning. Taking a long swig, he pressed play.
Bellflour’s voice sounded so damn proud and confident as he painted a picture of what was coming. Otis could hear the terrifying screams of the mountain. It was worse than he’d imagined. His heart ached with exhaustion and sadness as Bellflour detailed what sounded like a new property on South Beach.
Taking his glass of whiskey, Otis slung it to his side, and it shattered against the brick. This was it. Bellflour had won.
