Page 29 of Moonshine and Magnolias (Just Add Peaches #1)

When Rob finally met up with his brother at the O’Hara County Historical Society, he had to suffer through Hal’s tirade about shirking responsibilities. Keeping quiet about the irony was harder than Rob thought.

Rob jumped at the sudden sound of his brother’s chair scraping the concrete floor.

“It’s a lie. It has to be.” Hal paced the small, enclosed room, the humming florescent lights making constant background noise.

Rob leaned back in his chair, thankful for the view of something other than the old monitors. After working in rooms with huge windows, being in the stone-walled basement was a harsh change. Or maybe it was because Rob was with his brother instead of Wendy. “Found something, did you?”

“The newspapers must have gotten it wrong. There’s no way that could be Uncle Louis.” Hal pointed frantically to the computer monitor as he continued walking, moving his finger so fast it resembled a woodpecker.

This had better be good. The society was closing in half an hour.

Dinner at Fountenoy Hall was starting soon, and Rob wanted to get back before it was over.

With the kind of crazy, emotionally spinning encounter he had with Wendy, he didn’t want to be another thing to give her worry or concern.

He wanted to be there for her, to be able to give her some sort of comfort.

“Rob. You’re not listening. Why am I even bothering to talk?”

“This is a change. Usually I’m the one harping on you.”

“I can’t believe you’re not taking this seriously. Read the damn article.”

The article from September of 1928 was sandwiched between advertisements of rooms for rent and magic shampoo. He squinted at the headline in the file. “Bootlegger Crashes Car Into Home.” He frowned at his brother. “Uncle Louis wasn’t a bootlegger.”

“Shut up and read.” Hal slumped into his chair and rested his head in his hands. “This explains why Isaac Clayton and Uncle Louis were so friendly in that dining room picture.”

Rob scanned the words. “So an alleged moonshiner crashed into the house of a judge and escaped during the time Uncle Louis was staying at Fountenoy Hall.”

“They think the driver was a woman.

“Yes.”

“And she had a companion.”

“So it said.”

“And they were in a stolen car belonging to Isaac Clayton.”

“Still not getting it, Hal.”

“Do I have to connect the dots for you, Mr. History? Uncle Louis wasn’t around to apprehend the criminals. Don’t you think that’s a little too convenient?” Hal vibrated with indignation. “Especially since that was his reason for being here? Look at the description! It even fits him.”

“Male and five foot eight describes a lot of people.” The article was accompanied by a black-and-white picture of the damaged roadster and house, with police posing in front of the confiscated casks of whiskey.

“Too bad they didn’t get a picture of the people in the car.

I wonder if Caroline Clayton knew how to drive. ”

“If there had been pictures, our four-times great Uncle Louis would have been arrested as a four-times great turncoat. A federal agent in league with moonshiners. This is worse than if Uncle Louis had married one of them.” Hal groaned and leaned against a cinderblock wall.

Rob did a keyword search for his uncle’s full name in the papers spanning the next month. “Did you keep looking at articles to see if they were ever caught?”

Hal glared at him before answering. “No.”

Nothing showed up on the search, so Rob expanded the date range. “Do you think the IRS would have kept Uncle Louis around if he had been charged with illegal possession of alcohol? Especially during Prohibition?”

“No.”

Still no hits. “So either your speculation is wrong or we should celebrate Uncle Louis being clever enough to avoid prosecution.” Rob checked the time. “Are we done here?”

Hal shot him a baleful stare. “You have somewhere else to be?”

“You mean other than being stuck in a basement with you? Yes.”

“Really.” Hal’s voice dropped a few degrees. “You’re willing to abandon everything for her. Even with the curse looming over our love lives.”

Rob wasn’t abandoning Hal, he was helping Wendy. Like maybe Uncle Louis hadn’t abandoned his responsibilities but had been helping the driver.

The female driver.

“Holy shit.” It all made sense.

Hal bolted up and leapt to Rob’s computer. He angled the monitor so he could see. “What? What did you find?”

Now it was Rob’s turn to pace. The movement helped him solidify his idea. “Maybe Uncle Louis left behind a treasure that wasn’t of value to anyone but him.”

“What are you talking about? ”

“Maybe he left behind a woman.” Rob pointed to the screen. “The driver. Maybe she was his angel.”

“That’s your brilliant idea?” Hal straightened up and shook his head.

“Everything we have on Uncle Louis says he was all about the job. Even the journals he had left here. He never had time for a woman. That’s why he never married.

That’s why the Angels Eyes have cursed the Upshaw men.

Because Uncle Louis was supposed to bring home whatever it was. ”

Rob closed his eyes and pictured the diaries he’d read as bedtime stories his entire life.

Aside from lamenting losing the greatest treasure on earth, their uncle’s history revolved around the work he did for the government.

But he always expressed a need to go back to Georgia.

“Maybe he would have if he hadn’t been killed. ”

The historical society docent poked her head into the room. “Closing time, gentlemen.”

“Can I get a printout of this article?” Hal asked.

“Well…” the pretty blonde bit her bottom lip. “All print jobs were supposed to have been sent to the printer fifteen minutes ago. Did you hear the announcements?”

“No.” Hal shoved his hands in his pockets and bashfully scuffed his foot along the ground. “Sorry.”

It took a supreme amount of effort for Rob to keep his eyes from doing three-sixties in his head. Hal’s golly-gee routine was often used to get some poor woman to do something she wasn’t supposed to do. And it was working on Blondie like it worked on most everyone else.

She gave Hal a quick once-over. “Tell you what. I’ll let you print out the whole paper if…” her voice trailed off.

“If?” Hal prompted.

“If you tell me why it’s so important when you buy me dinner tonight.” She flashed him a wicked grin that lit up Hal like a three-alarm fire.

“You got it.” Hal looked at her badge. “Anita. ”

She moved to the computer and entered some commands. “I’ll have it ready for you when you come back upstairs.”

Hal waited until the woman left the basement. “I sent other things to print before we met up. We can go back to your coffee shop and read them until dinner.”

Great. Hal picked now to take initiative.

Rob followed his brother upstairs where he picked up the extra print outs and made arrangements for the two of them to meet Anita.

The woman looked disappointed when she realized she wouldn’t have Hal to herself, but Rob planned to remedy that as soon as he could.

It didn’t happen. Hal kept Rob out until the sky had darkened and the moon crested the hills.

By the time they were back at the Hall, it was nearing ten.

Going down to the library would seem like a booty call.

But he said he would be there, so there he went, bringing along his spiral notebook.

Wendy had put thoughts of a book back in his head, so at least he had an excuse if someone else saw him.

The library was empty.

Damn, he knew he was too late.

He tapped the notebook against his thigh. Wendy was always making notes and scuttling around the Hall, working on something or setting up for an event. So maybe she’d be in her room, or maybe she’d be in the office.

No one impeded his progress across the lobby and down the hallway. A faint glow emanated from under the office door, and he gently rapped his knuckles on it.

There was a moment of silence, followed by Wendy’s business-like tone. “It’s open.”

She sat in the antique chair, wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a pink top like she was planning a day outside. Hair up in that damn ponytail. The desk was covered in papers, her laptop holding a place of honor in the middle.

She glanced up when he entered, then down again before holding tenuous eye-contact. “You’re up late.”

For someone who wore confidence like it was tailor-made, a glimpse at her vulnerability made his breath quicken. “I would have been down here sooner. Hal kept me away for too long going over his research. ”

He should stay by the door, to give her space when he admitted his deceit, but his feet led him to the guest chair.

She pressed her mouth into a straight line and watched his progress. “Well, it is the reason you’re here.”

The perfect opening for his confession.

He opened his mouth but she spoke before he could say anything, gesturing to the notebook in his hand. “What are you working on?”

“I needed to get some information out of my head.”

“On paper? How last century.” She tugged the elastic from her hair and ran her hand over her scalp.

The movement was a casual action, not designed to be seductive, but the long, dark locks begged for him to run his fingers through them.

That morning was the only time he had ever seen her with her hair down, and it had been circumstantial.

He clasped his hands together. “What can I say? I’m an old-fashioned guy. ”

He ached to touch her, but if he felt any part of her lean, incredibly feminine form, he’d be lost, willing to ignore his lies in order to be with her.