Highball Rush (Bootleg Springs #6) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,117

told them to meet me at the Lookout before the evening rush.

“I can already tell I’m not gonna like this.” Bowie kicked out a chair at the table I’d chosen in the back corner of the bar.

Jameson, Jonah, George, and Devlin were already here, barely drinking the beers they’d ordered. I had a basket of fries I had no plans on eating. They were just to give Nicolette some business while I took up one of her tables.

Callie had shared her newly-remembered details with Shelby. I appreciated how well Shelby had talked her through it, gently asking questions and helping her work out what she knew. Cassidy had sat in on it, eventually taking down an official statement. It had been hard to watch Callie go through that—recalling all those horrible things—but I’d been so damn proud of her.

Shelby and Cassidy had done the job of filling in the rest of my family. So the dark looks on my brothers’ faces were no surprise.

“This ain’t a get-away-from-it-all trip to the bar, is it?” Jameson asked.

“Nope. Tonight we’re on a mission. We’re gonna get the truth out of that Lee Williams asshole.”

I probably could have handled this thing myself—with Nicolette’s help, of course—but I wanted my brothers here as backup.

“Oh boy,” Devlin muttered and took a swig of beer.

“How do you plan on doing that?” Bowie asked. “You gonna chat him up at the bar?”

“In a manner of speaking, yeah. We’re gonna bring out the big guns.”

Jameson and Bowie shared a look.

“You don’t mean…” The corner of Bowie’s mouth ticked, like he was trying not to smile.

I crossed my arms and nodded. “Moonshine truth serum.”

Jameson didn’t hide his grin. “Oh, shit. You got Sonny to give you some?”

“Of course he did. I told him what it’s for.”

“What’s moonshine truth serum?” Jonah asked.

“I’m glad you don’t know either, because I was just about to ask the same thing,” George said.

Bowie let out a short chuckle. “Sonny Fullson has a very special moonshine concoction. The recipe is a closely guarded secret.”

“The world couldn’t handle it,” Jameson said. “It’s important to keep it under wraps.”

“Are you saying it makes people tell the truth?” Devlin asked, clearly skeptical.

“Is it anything like that stuff you fed me before you shot me into the lake?” George asked, wincing.

“Nah, that was just the peach cobbler brew,” I said. “Moonshine truth serum is different. It opens people right up. They’ll talk your ear off and tell you every secret they’ve ever kept.”

“Do you remember when Nash took a shot of it by mistake?” Jameson asked.

“Who knew the big guy’s favorite hobby was quilting,” Bowie said.

“Or that he was the one who broke Mrs. Morganstern’s upstairs window with a baseball in junior high,” Jameson said.

“How is this supposed to work?” Devlin asked. “Because right now I’m picturing you tying him to a chair and forcing liquor down his throat.”

“That’s why you wanted me here, isn’t it?” George asked, leaning away from the table like he was about to get up and leave. “You want me to hold him down.”

I shrugged. “It shouldn’t come to that. Nicolette’ll serve it to him. Don’t y’all remember? It’s Moonshine Day, the best unofficial holiday of the year. Shots of moonshine on the house for everyone.”

“That could definitely be a real thing,” Jonah said.

“It is, but it ain’t until October,” Jameson replied.

“Do you think he’ll notice what we’re doing?” George asked. “Get suspicious?”

“The thing about moonshine truth serum, it hits you fast,” I said. “Makes you go all woozy for a minute. He’ll be busy trying to figure out why his eyes won’t focus, and then he’ll feel great.”

“Nicolette on board?” Jameson asked.

I gave him the side-eye. “Do you even need to ask?”

“Guess not.” Jameson raised his beer to Nicolette, who stood behind the bar. She gave him a solemn nod.

“What do you need us to do?” Bowie asked.

“Backup mostly, in case this goes south,” I said.

“All right,” Bowie said. “Let’s do this.”

Customers trickled in and we spread out, filling them in on the plan. We didn’t want any accidental bar brawls or other interruptions tonight.

Then, all we could do was wait.

I sat with Jameson at the table in back, bouncing my leg, unable to keep still. Bowie, Dev, and Jonah nursed beers at the bar, making sure to leave a few stools open. George stayed farther back. Music played in the background and the mood in here was subdued. Tense.

My edges felt sharp, but I was focused. I knew I couldn’t let my temper

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