Page 51 of Moonshine and Magnolias
Hal wrenched open the door and stormed to the basement, with Rob following in his wake down the familiar path, popping a tablet before the acid in his stomach took over. They settled into their routine of looking at files of archived articles from the time Uncle Louis was at the Hall. His journals had helped narrow down the time frame to sometime in the late 1920s to early 1930s, but unfortunately didn’t lead to any new information about angel eyes or any curse.
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 beUncle 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 wasaccompanied 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.
