Page 25

Ace

“That one will knock you back a bit.” I nod to the Glencairn glass that Julian’s sipping from.

I tip mine on its side—the beauty of these types of glasses meant to sip, taste, and move the whiskey—showing off the coppery color as I let it roll slightly.

“My brother is the one who’ll talk chemistry with you all day long about how the alcohol in this bottle increased, but it’ll hit the back of your throat with some muscle, so sip it.

He closes his fist over his lips after he swallows. “Damn.” As he winces, I can’t help but smile. It seems like a good time to lighten the situation. I hadn’t planned on sending him in to break up a fight tonight, but it made the most sense.

“I could have done a nice tasting at the distillery, but you were the asshole who picked this place.” I look down at the packed main floor of Midnight Proof from where I’m sitting.

The private space that Hadley reserves is open, and the commotion needs to die down before either of us leaves.

Finishing off my glass, I sit back, waiting for him to get to the reason why he needed an in-person visit.

There are only ever two reasons for an in-person visit from one of us.

It’s either a request for an audience—like Griz did during Lincoln’s bachelor party.

Or there’s a job that doesn’t feel quite right, and someone needs support.

We each respect the lives and careers outside of this additional obligation, so attention beyond texts or phone calls is rare.

While Julian doesn’t look out of place here in Fiasco, we don’t look like people who would be colleagues.

We’re polar opposites in the way we present ourselves.

I prefer suits and bourbon, and he showed up looking like he couldn’t decide between being an artist or a cowboy.

But I’ve seen plenty of his work—and he’s damn talented.

Handmade pieces, from rings and necklaces to headpieces and art installations.

Many of which have been celebrated in auctioned collections and on red carpets.

But outside of his affinity for titanium and gemstones, Julian also knows how to easily erase a person’s existence.

From their digital footprint to their skin and teeth.

His particular skill set would be a threat to just about every government agency.

Except, oftentimes, those are exactly who call in favors and requests.

Leaning back in his leather club chair, he pulls out a black velvet pouch from the front interior pocket of his leather vest and tosses it to me.

“What’s this?” I ask, opening it.

He looks down at my hand as I turn it over to drop out the contents.

A thick silver belt buckle. “Aw, honey, you shouldn’t have,” I joke.

With a smirk, he shakes his head. “No, asshole. That’s not one of mine.” He crosses his arms. “That was waiting for me in a P.O. box under an alias that I haven’t used in more than a decade. Look at the initials.”

I turn it over in my fingers, drawing over the letters depicting one of the country’s most acclaimed rodeo circuits.

The hoots and hollers from the crowd downstairs get louder, along with a drawn-out trumpet and drumbeat. I glance up, and my gaze slides over to Hadley like it’s second nature.

“Does she know what you did for her?” he asks, his eyes pinned to her slinging drinks behind the bar.

Turning the buckle over in my hand, I ignore the question. Apparently, my lack of response says enough.

“You’re in love with her,” he says. With a low laugh, air blows past his lips. “I would have thought after all this time...”

I clear my throat and rub my thumb along my lip, taking one last look at the way Hadley moves so effortlessly. I couldn’t put into words what the hell I’m doing when it comes to Hadley, even if I wanted to share.

“What am I looking at here?” I ask, bringing my attention back to the buckle. Nothing about the year or championship seems all that important...until it clicks.

“Well, I’m looking at a brunette who I’ve witnessed you make some interesting moves around.

” He pauses with a pointed look before he continues.

“You call me in to clean up a body, and I’m still not sure how he ended up dead on her family’s property.

And then you ask me to step in tonight with that bald prick.

I know her name and that she’s close to your brother, but who is she to you, Ace?

” he asks with a curious tone. “If you’re not interested?—”

“Not an option,” I cut him off.

He tips his head to the side and smiles. “For me or for you?”

“For both,” I say with a finality that tells him to back off.

He smirks to himself and then leans forward, taking the buckle from my hand.

“It’s been driving me nuts why a rodeo buckle would end up in that P.O.

box. There are plenty of rodeo boys in Montana, but there’s no reason for this to end up with me.

Unless it was to send a message.” Fuck. He points to the center of it. “You messed up.”

My gut sinks, knowing all the errors I made that night.

Ones that cost me more than just money. I glance at Faye as she works her way around the room.

There’s a reason why I asked for her help.

And she’s capable. She’s already pulled plenty of details about the people affiliated with and burned by Wheeler Finch.

People who could be considered a threat.

But this right here isn’t something she needs to know about.

He tilts his head toward my hand. “That right there was attached to a dead man before he ended up fertilizing some cornfields. And now we need to figure out exactly why it didn’t get destroyed, and who would be so bold as to send it to me and not you.”

Unfortunately, I already know.

It takes twenty-four hours to gain the access I need. House arrest consists of patrols at the front and back of the house, but only local PD, not FBI. It’s rookies and guys pulling the short straw, along with a monitored security system.

“Ace,” Jimmy says, looking up from his post in a double take. “Wh-what are you doing here? We haven’t been allowing any visitors, unless they’re mandated by the court.” More quietly, he whispers, “You can’t be here.”

I stop walking and stare at him. “Then don’t tell anyone.

” While I’m not pleased about having to be here, there’s satisfaction in knowing that he’ll be behind bars soon enough.

The charges pending have plenty of witness testimonies and surveillance to prove the mess he created.

Wheeler Finch had upset a multi-billion-dollar industry, and in its wake, made large enough waves to affect almost every person in my small town.

People are angry. And that isn’t including the people closest to me—my sister-in-law, Faye, felt the impact.

Her mother was silenced for years before she died, and Faye’s sister, Maggie, tried to make it right and still ended up gone.

And now, Hadley and this threat. It isn’t going to go unanswered any longer.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Atticus,” he says in his thick Kentucky accent.

I grit my teeth, watching a satisfied grin take over his face.

Holding back the anger that vibrates through my veins, I flex my hand at my side.

He was smart to send it to Julian. Doing so was a message; he knows who helped me that night.

He knows my secrets. And far too many of them.

Wheeler sits casually in his wingback chair, in an office that I’ve only ever been inside once before.

I glance at the more senior officer, whose father had worked the bottling line at Foxx Bourbon for most of his life.

He gives me a nod, and the cameras in each corner of the room stop blinking red.

Inserting an earbud in each ear, he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall more casually now.

There are a handful of officers who knew either my brother, Grant, when he was on the Fiasco PD, or his partner, Del, who still serves as a semi-retired detective.

Today’s visit won’t be recorded or witnessed.

It won’t be mentioned to my brother. It will be like it never happened at all.

Wheeler looks past my shoulder, seemingly more tense, realizing we’re practically alone now.

The sound of metal hitting the weathered wood of his desk makes him settle his attention on the belt buckle. “Ah, your associate got my little gift, I see.”

I look down at my wrist to focus on something to avoid the severe need I’m feeling to punch him in his smug face. “We had an agreement, Wheeler. The fact that you’ve gone ahead and gotten caught for all the bullshit you’ve been wielding these years doesn’t change that.”

He tuts. “Atticus, of course, circumstances have changed. Most importantly, my daughter is not cooperating.”

I try not to visibly tense hearing Wheeler refer to Hadley. Sending another glance to the officer in the corner, I make sure he’s not listening to this.

“She refuses most of my calls. My lawyers aren’t able to access the funds they need, not to mention that I have some upset associates who are starting to call in some aggressive favors for my lack of delivering what they’re owed.”

I noticed the limp he’s adopted when he walked in here and took his seat.

And when I look closer, a bruise along the right side of his face is on the end of healing.

Apparently, house arrest kept him inside, but it’s proving to be a little harder to keep other monsters out.

I smirk, appreciating the fact that his daughter wants nothing to do with him and thinking back to her standing up to the bald man at the bar.

“Not my problem, Wheeler. But this isn’t going to get you on my good side,” I threaten as I glance at the gaudy rodeo buckle.