Page 8 of Killer Moonshine

“Jim. I’m Miller, this is Trak.”

“Well, I hope you’ll come back for dinner when you can enjoy a cocktail. Best margaritas in town, if I say so myself,” he grinned.

“We live in New Orleans but hope we can get back home tonight. Waiting on a meeting at the state capitol with the head of the ATF,” said Miller. Jim’s eyebrows raised, and he nodded.

“I might be able to help y’all,” he grinned. “I have a private room in the back, and it just so happens Ms. Beauchamp and her staff are meeting there now. Something big happened this morning, and they’ve been closed up since. Let me see if she’ll see you now.”

“Brother, that would be amazing,” said Miller. They followed him toward the backroom, where Jim knocked and entered.

“Excuse me, Estella. I have two men who had lunch here who I think you were supposed to meet with this morning. They just happened to be here, so I thought you could kill two birds and not have to rush back to the office.”

“Jim, you always bring me a miracle when I need one,” smiled Estella. “Send them in.” She watched as the two massive men walked into the room. She knew they were with Gray Wolf, and she knew a bit about their history.

“Gentlemen, please have a seat. Jim said you’ve already eaten. Do you need anything?”

“No offense, ma’am, but if I eat one more thing, Trak will have to roll me home to New Orleans,” he smirked. The room laughed, and Miller noticed it was the woman that had gotten off the elevator at the capitol and five men with badges on their jackets.

“We’ll try not to take up a bunch of your time, but we think that we can help you on something,” said Trak.

“Color me intrigued,” she said, sitting back.

“There have been at least two deaths that we’re aware of due to illegal moonshine in our area,” said Miller. Now, she was paying attention. She leaned forward, staring at the two men.

“Go on.”

“One of those men was a dear friend and worked for our family. We want to find the men responsible for this, and we understand that you’re trying to stop this as well.”

“I am,” she ground out. “Cassius Hugo has been a thorn in my side for months now trying to convince officials that legal stills would help the Louisiana economy. Hell, we’re already ranked nineteenth in the nation for alcohol consumption, and that’s a title I do not want.”

“Who is Cassius Hugo?” asked Trak.

“He’s a snake,” said one of the men sitting with her. “He’s been trying to convince men that making moonshine will make them rich. He gives them equipment, rusted, poorly working equipment and a basic recipe and sends them to town. Of course, we can’t prove it’s him doing it. If we could, he’d be arrested. I don’t know what he has on these people, but they won’t say a word about him.”

“Why here? Why now?” asked Miller.

“I wish I knew. We’ve heard him several times at our hearings and have voted it down each time, but like a bad penny, he keeps coming back. You said there were two dead that you knew of, but we know of at least twenty who have died. He keeps saying if we would legalize it, he and his company could provide quality materials to build the stills, thereby avoiding the deaths.”

“We want to find this man and stop him,” said Trak.

“No offense, you both look more than qualified,” said one of the men, “but you’re just two men. He’s got dozens of men working for him.”

“We are more than two hundred men,” said Miller. “We run a security agency, and so do our sons.”

“You’re those guys,” smirked a man. “Shit. You’retheGray Wolf, and I’m guessing your sons are Voodoo Guardians.”

Trak and Miller said nothing, just staring at the man. He shook his head, almost bowing in admiration.

“I’ll have my team share all the information we have,” said Estella. “I’m not too proud to admit that we need help stopping this maniac. If you can help us, all the better.”

“Can’t thank you enough for seeing us,” said Miller, standing to leave. Jim walked back in with two large bags of food.

“Take this to your Mama,” he smiled. “I’d love to talk recipes with her.”

“Brother, be careful what you wish for.”

CHAPTER SIX

“Is he gonna make it?” asked Irene, standing over her granddaughter’s shoulder.

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