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If you want to determine the strength of a bourbon, most people look at its proof.

The higher the proof, the higher the alcohol in that batch.

It doesn’t make it better; it just makes it stronger.

But when it comes to business, especially in Fiasco, after the bullshit this town has had to deal with over the past year, stronger is better.

“Roughly nine billion dollars,” I interrupt. I’ve had enough of the discussion. The last thing I wanted was to have this meeting this weekend, but time hasn’t been on my side lately.

It’s been just over a year since the headlines.

A nightmare for a state whose reputation was tarnished by greed and strong-arming.

It was almost catastrophic for the small town at the epicenter of it all.

The head of the largest and most respected brand in horse racing, Finch I don’t let much linger with women I fuck. It’s better for everyone that way.

My pocket buzzes again, only this time when my eyes catch who it’s from, I’m more than acutely aware that there are eyes on me beyond the men at the table.

The mayor holds up his hand like it’s respectable to beckon someone over that way. Marla’s going to get violent. But instead of a coffee carafe-wielding woman approaching, it’s my brother’s former partner at the police department, Delaney.

“Detective, how are you?” the mayor asks.

He nods, looking at each person at the table as his hand falls to my shoulder. “Very well. How are y'all doing this evening?”

Del and I have danced in plenty of the same circles over the years.

Aside from being my brother’s old partner and friend, he has a connection to many U.S.

government agencies who have, in some way or another, passed through Fiasco.

Often, Del keeps me in the loop with what’s happening below the line here.

A mutual respect for each other and the town we proudly call home.

“Del, I was just reading all about the new mess that Fiasco found itself tangled up in.” The mayor looks at the governor, making sure he hears whatever the knucklehead is planning to say next. “It's been about ten years since a missing persons case was connected to Fiasco.”

That particular missing person was not missing. “Ah,” Governor Hawkins says over a mouthful of ground beef. “Hard to forget a big name like that just disappearing.”

I try not to tense or react, knowing exactly what happened to James Switcher.

Del glances at me briefly before he says, “There are always missing persons cases that come across our desk. That particular one wasn’t connected to anything here in Fiasco.”

The governor glances my way before he says, “Plenty of negative press here to last a lifetime. Bodies and missing persons? I’d hate to see anything other than bourbon making Kentucky someplace to talk about.”

Giving him a nod, I reiterate what I want, the whole reason I’m here tonight.

“If you help clear the approvals needed, drum up excitement around some of the plans for building up Fiasco, then that would be a way to garner some good press.” I look at the mayor when I add, “There are plenty of people here wanting to look like they're making a positive difference, and then there are those of us who are actually doing it.” My phone vibrates in my pocket.

There are a few people that, when they contact me, I do not, under any circumstances, keep them waiting.

THE ARCHITECT