Page 15 of Killer Moonshine

It was the following morning before they knew anything at all about Lydia’s condition. The burns to her face and side of her head had left her with no hair, no skin, and in so much pain she could barely communicate.

The comms team took fingerprints and photos for facial recognition but so far had come up with nothing. The little bar in the bayou was owned by Bertie McClellan, a woman in her nineties that couldn’t even walk. She claimed that she’d given Lydia the rights to the bar because the land didn’t belong to her. Apparently, it belonged to someone Lydia knew.

With more than two dozen people in the waiting area, hoping to get word on the girl they didn’t even know, Riley wasn’t surprised to see them when she walked out.

“How is she?” asked Trak, standing quickly and walking toward her.

“Honey, you need sleep.”

“How is she?” he asked again.

“She’s in a lot of pain, Trak. I won’t lie to you. We can’t get her to the pond just yet. We need to get some things stabilized before we do that. If the pond doesn’t work, she’s going to have a very, very long recovery. The burns were from the explosion of the still and the chemicals, but the worst of it was from the moonshine itself that was obviously highly flammable.”

“Will her hair grow back? She had pretty hair,” he said quietly. Riley turned to Bree, who took a step forward.

“Trak, come with me,” she said gently. He shook his head.

“Go with her,” said Nine. “That’s an order.”

“I’m not in the military any longer. I don’t have to take orders, and I won’t on this. Will her hair grow back?”

“No,” said Riley. “The pond may help with that, but it won’t grow back if we can’t get her to the point of taking her to the pond. She’ll need skin grafts, surgeries, it will be a horrible, painful few years.”

“She’s eighteen,” he repeated.

Lauren clasped his hand, his sons Nathan and Joseph behind him, each with a hand on his shoulder. His daughters looked at him, giving a nod. He stared back at them and blinked twice, following Bree.

“I’ve never seen him like that,” said Ian. “I’m absolutely terrified right now for Lydia, for him, and for myself.”

“We should all be terrified. He’s going to go on a killing spree if we can’t control him. Bull? What about the girl triggered this?” asked Nine.

“She looked like his sister,” he said quietly. “She had beautiful, long dark hair in a braid. She’s a tiny little thing, but she didn’t take any shit from him at all.”

They all chuckled softly, nodding at that.

“Something was wrong with that still,” said Otto. “She was pissed because someone didn’t do something they were supposed to do. She picked up a huge fucking wrench, walked into the woods, and then the explosion happened. Shit was flying everywhere, everything on fire as Bull and I ducked for cover. Trak had already taken off toward the fire.”

“Of course he did,” frowned Nine. “This is going to be personal for him now. He’s going to use that damn alligator to find this man.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” said Gaspar.

“I’m not either, but we need to get to this man and figure out what the hell he’s trying to do. Why is legalizing moonshine so damn important to him? He could be making money off all sorts of shit that’s safer than moonshine.”

“That’s a good question,” said Ghost. “Why now? Why this?”

“Code? Do we have a background on Hugo?”

“I’ve been working on it. Hugo is an alias. That name doesn’t exist anywhere except to a seventy-eight-year-old man who died in 1956. It’s obviously not him. I’ve been trying to get a look at the hearing tapes from the ATF where he was present, but they have them locked up. They’re old school.”

“Let me call Beauchamp,” said Miller. “I’m gonna bet she’ll let us have them.”

“Do it,” said Gaspar. “If that girl dies, I’m going to hang him for murder. If she doesn’t die, I’m going to kill him anyway.”

“You’ll have to beat Trak to him. You know he’s going to hunt him down, right?” said Ghost, looking at Gaspar, Ian, and Nine.

“Maybe we let him,” said Nine. “I know of no one more equipped, better at what they do than Trak. Even at his age, he’s still the best.”

“But is that wise?” asked Code. They all turned to stare at him. “Trak can be, uh, intense once he’s focused on something. He might not know when to stop.”

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