100 Proof Murder Read online

  ‘You’re a good son, Nick.’

  ‘Only time will tell. Why don’t I pick you and Michael up at seven? The three of us will enjoy the best dinner of our lives that will be on me. No arguments.’

  True to his word, Nick picked them up on time and drove them to his favorite restaurant – a seafood joint specializing in oysters. It wouldn’t have been Jill’s first choice, but since they also served blackened fish, all was well. Since nothing out of the ordinary happened during Michael’s tour of Jim Beam’s distillery, Jill monopolized most of the conversation with Alexis’s mysterious half-brother sneaking into the distillery in an attempt to learn everything about bourbon in a few hours.

  ‘Are you saying this Kevin Scott broke into the place?’ asked Nick.

  ‘Why didn’t the guards throw the guy out?’ Michael demanded.

  Jill waved them off. ‘Because he sweet-talked his way in. By the time Alexis and I caught up with him, the new master distiller was on the floor and no longer breathing.’

  From that point on Jill had her hands full finishing the recap about an opioid overdose and Kevin Scott’s experience with an addicted stepbrother. By the time she reached the part about William Scott saving the distillery after Grandpa Parker practically bankrupted it, Michael had lost interest and focused instead on the dessert menu. But Nick definitely had not.

  ‘Do you think Alexis is aware of the real story?’ Jill asked him.

  ‘Probably not all of it. I remember whenever Mrs Scott belittled her husband in front of me, Alexis always defended him.’ Nick drank the last of his beer. ‘Are you planning to tell her, considering Kevin’s plans to cut Alexis out of her inheritance?’

  Jill thought for a moment. ‘Despite what he said at the meeting, I don’t think that’s really what Kevin wants.’

  Although her answer appeared to confuse Nick, he let the matter drop. For which Jill felt grateful, since she had no idea why she wanted to believe the best about a man she’d only known ten minutes.

  THIRTEEN

  Jill spent most of the morning going over the notes Michael took at Jim Beam Stillhouse. He had done a good job and asked plenty of questions during the tour. After lunch she put all her anecdotes, interviews and research into a cauldron, waved her magic wand, then six hours and one headache later she had a brilliant, cohesive article on the Louisville bourbon tours, worthy of Michael’s outstanding photography. But as thrilled as she was to have the Louisville segment finished, she was far less thrilled about returning to Chicago.

  Jill had spent her entire life up north where she seemed to have fallen in a rut. No matter how good her travel articles were, she was no closer to becoming an investigative reporter than five years ago. Plus, how could she leave Aunt Dot now that her grandmother had moved in with her in Roseville? In addition to that, she didn’t want to leave Nick. Yet she loved working for the news service. So she’d better come up with some kind of idea before the boss sent her and Michael to cover haunted lighthouses in New England.

  The moment she ripped open a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips, Nick called. ‘What’s up, Jilly? Are you on your way back from Jim Beam?’

  ‘Nope, Michael got everything we needed yesterday, so unless you’re inviting me on a romantic getaway, Clermont is off the table.’

  His husky, deep drawl never failed to lift her spirits. ‘I wouldn’t rule that out for the future, but in the meantime, how ’bout dinner at my place?’

  ‘Who’s cooking?’ Jill stapled the bag of chips shut.

  ‘Me, who else? I heard about the multiple visits from the fire department whenever you turn on a stove.’

  ‘Michael lies or at least he exaggerates. Two visits shouldn’t constitute the term “multiple”. What time should I come over?’

  ‘I’ll pick you up in half an hour. Wear something slinky.’ Nick laughed and hung up before she could argue.

  And it was just as well, because Sheriff Jeff Adkins crushed their plans for a romantic dinner. When Nick knocked on her door thirty minutes later, Jill was still in jeans and wearing a frown.

  ‘Good evening, Miss Curtis. You’re looking especially pretty tonight, although I wouldn’t describe a Loyola shirt as slinky.’ He handed her a bouquet of flowers.

  ‘Sorry, Nick. Dinner’s off. I need to drive to Roseville.’

  ‘Says who? I’m simmering gumbo in the crockpot.’

  ‘Thanks for these.’ Walking into the kitchen, Jill stuck the flowers into a pitcher of water. ‘Says Jeff Adkins.’

  ‘No. Way.’ Nick leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. ‘Don’t tell me he arrested your aunt and grandmother … again.’

  Jill rolled her eyes. ‘Not just Aunt Dot and Granny this time, but the entire Tuesday night book club.’

  He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s barely eight o’clock. How could a bunch of ladies get into trouble this early?’

  ‘It doesn’t take long at their age.’ She plopped down on the sofa. ‘Apparently, no one liked the book they read. So one of them came up with the brilliant idea to take a taxi to a bourbon club.’

  ‘I’ve been to Roseville. They have no clubs.’

  ‘No, but two different restaurants serve flights of bourbon. The club secretary, Mrs Penny Whittaker, did some research.’

  Nick scrubbed his hands over his face. ‘Please don’t tell me one of the members drove drunk.’

  ‘No, they took taxis downtown and had planned to call for rides home. However, the sheriff provided their next means of transportation, right to the station.’ Preparing to leave, Jill collected her phone, purse and keys. ‘Apparently, the ladies were seated at high-top tables, enjoying tasters of bourbon, when one of the ladies slipped off her stool and landed on the floor. She wasn’t hurt but she attracted quite a bit of attention, which the manager didn’t like. The woman told the manager it was because of her vertigo, but the manager didn’t buy it. He told them to finish their drinks and go home. But instead the club went to another bar where they ordered two more flights of bourbon.’

  Nick tried to suppress a grin. ‘Sorry, Jill, but the mental picture of this is priceless.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so, lawman. At the second unfortunate establishment, two ladies got into an argument about politics. Of course, this attracted attention. Then when the woman jumped up to use the restroom, she stumbled into an entire display of merchandise and broke plenty of glassware.’

  Nick straightened to his impressive height. ‘Good grief. Was this woman injured?’

  ‘Apparently not, since she couldn’t stop laughing. Which made the manager furious and he called the police. Sheriff Adkins arrived and arrested the entire group. Drunk and disorderly. How is this going to look in the local paper?’ Jill found her keys under a stack of restaurant menus. ‘Go home and relax, Nick, and enjoy your gumbo. Soon you’ll be back to work and your vacation hasn’t exactly been memorable.’

  He plucked the keys from her fingers. ‘I wouldn’t miss this drama for anything in the world. I hope you plan to give Granny and Aunt Dot a good lecture.’

  ‘You bet I am. I have the entire drive to Roseville to choose the perfect words.’

  As it turned out, Jill had no time to plan what she’d say to her relatives. Instead she and Nick talked about growing up, life during high school and college, and their dreams for what they wanted in life.

  Then out of the clear blue sky, Nick asked, ‘Are you still going back to Chicago?’

  Jill’s palms began to sweat. ‘Unfortunately, that’s where my job is.’

  ‘Have you looked for journalism positions in Louisville?’

  His directness unnerved her. ‘I wanted to, but I’ve been too busy.’

  Nick focused on the road. ‘With the article, yes, but also on Alexis’s problems. It’s time you told me where your head is and specifically, what it is you want.’

  She swiped her palms down her jeans as the entire world tilted on its axis. ‘Let’s see … I’m not keen on moving back to my apartment in the cit
y. I would prefer to stay in the Louisville area because it’s close to Roseville. My relatives can’t seem to be left alone for very long. Although it’s no Chicago, there might be opportunities for journalists here or I can always freelance.’

  ‘And us, Jill? Where exactly do I stand in your plans?’

  Every now and then a woman must take a chance and go out on a limb, even if it breaks off. And this was Jill’s now-and-then. ‘Even if I have to move back to Sweet Dreams, I’m not going back to Chicago. I want you, Nicky. I want us. I’ve been waiting for you to suggest we move in together. Now is that clear enough for you?’

  Nick smiled. ‘Since I’m an old-fashioned guy, I was thinking about a more permanent arrangement.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Jill pivoted to face him on the seat. ‘Are you proposing to me?’

  ‘I am.’ Nick slowed his speed as they entered Roseville’s city limits.

  ‘Who does that anymore, without running a background check and having a trial run of several years?’

  ‘What makes you think I haven’t researched your past? I am a lawman.’ He pulled to a complete stop before turning right on red. ‘I did like those braids in the seventh grade, by the way. Did you discover some Native American ancestry?’

  Jill made a face. ‘Unfortunately, no, I just thought they looked cool. Let’s not change the subject. Are you proposing or not?’

  Nick waited to answer until he turned off the ignition at the Spencer County Sheriff’s Office. ‘I am, Jill Curtis. I’m in love with you. What do you say? Will you marry me?’

  ‘Maybe, as long as we have a long engagement. After all, we’ve only known each other for five weeks. I need time for my own background check. You weren’t always a lawman. Who knows what skeletons are buried in Lorraine?’

  ‘Fair enough. Now let’s post bail for your kinfolk. After all, I’ve got a vested interest in their future.’

  Jill climbed out of the car. ‘Please don’t say a word about our engagement. I want nothing to distract those two criminals from the seriousness of their actions.’

  ‘My lips are sealed.’

  Sheriff Adkins walked out of his office the moment they entered the station. ‘Looks like members of the book club are becoming regular guests.’ He tucked his thumbs into his belt.

  ‘This will be the last time, Sheriff. My grandmother is officially grounded and without her partner in crime, Mrs Clark should settle down too.’

  ‘Has bail been set yet for the ladies?’ Nick asked.

  He exhaled a sigh. ‘Since I released the other perpetrators on their own recognizance to their families, I’ll release Mrs Clark and Mrs Vanderpool in the same fashion, providing changes are made to the book club. Otherwise my wife won’t speak to me for a week. Dot Clark is her friend and she’s mad that I arrested her. I suggest alcohol-free discussions from now on.’

  Jill placed her hand over her heart. ‘I will insist upon it, Sheriff, and provide Tuesday night enforcement if necessary.’

  The sheriff paused on their way to the basement. ‘In all fairness it wasn’t either Mrs Clark or your grandmother who argued with the bar manager or caused the damage. In fact, my deputy reported that Mrs Vanderpool attempted to pay for the broken glass.’

  ‘Good to know, but that doesn’t get either of them off the hook,’ Jill said as they rounded the corner to the cell block.

  ‘They’re in the first cell. I will leave you to it.’ Sheriff Adkins tipped his hat to her and shook Nick’s hand.

  Rolling up her sleeves, Jill approached the cell. Inside, two elderly, silver-haired ladies sat side-by-side on a cot. Their heads were bowed as if in prayer, deep meditation, or sound asleep. ‘I see your friends have abandoned you,’ Jill said, lifting her chin. ‘What do you have to say for yourselves?’

  Pale and exhausted, Granny looked up first. ‘They didn’t really abandon us. Their rides got here first, but thanks for coming.’

  ‘Oh, Jill,’ Dot wailed. ‘I’m so ashamed. I knew it was a bad idea to go downtown, but Emma and I were outvoted. The member in charge of bringing the pint of bourbon forgot to get it, so she insisted on buying a round at Harry’s.’

  Jill leaned towards them. ‘That’s your excuse? You couldn’t just discuss the book over coffee or tea like normal grandmothers?’

  ‘We are the bourbon-and-books club,’ Emma pointed out. ‘Not the tea and crumpets.’

  ‘You were the bourbon-and-books club, granny. There will be no more alcohol at the meetings.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Aunt Dot wrung her hands in her lap. ‘But I’m not sure there will be much club left. We listened while several husbands showed up to take their wives home.’ Dot shivered as though a cold breeze blew through the basement. ‘Penny’s husband told the sheriff that a night in the slammer might do her some good, so he refused to pick her up.’

  Granny cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered conspiratorially. ‘Penny called her daughter since Adkins hadn’t confiscated either her cell phone or her belt.’

  Nick coughed to cover his laugh, but Jill maintained a stern expression. ‘Believe me, I had the same idea as Penny’s husband.’

  Dot pushed stiffly to her feet, then helped up Emma. ‘We’re both very grateful. If you and Lieutenant Harris drive us home, we promise to cause no more trouble.’ Dot held up her hand as though testifying and elbowed Emma until she did the same.

  ‘Do you promise, Granny?’ Jill asked, crossing her arms.

  ‘I promise.’ Emma’s eyes filled with tears. ‘The last thing I want is to be sent back to that nursing home. I love it here in Kentucky with Dot.’

  Jill reached between the bars for her grandmother’s hand. ‘No matter what you do, Granny, nobody will ever send you back to Chicago.’

  ‘We can always slap ankle monitors on them,’ Nick said, slipping his arm around Jill’s waist.

  ‘Would you please get the sheriff?’ she asked over her shoulder. ‘I believe these ladies are ready to apologize for wasting taxpayers’ money.’ Jill turned back to Dot and Granny. ‘You will also apologize to both bar managers and pay for the damages.’

  ‘Penny Whittaker already promised to do that tomorrow morning,’ Granny said. ‘But Dot and I can take the managers candy and cookies when we apologize. Sweets usually soften people up.’

  Aunt Dot stepped forward. ‘I owe you an apology too, Jill. You not only pulled me through a difficult period at the B & B, you helped solve my husband’s murder. I’m very sorry, and I plan to make this up to you.’

  ‘You’re both forgiven. Now let’s get you home and in bed.’

  ‘You should have held out for one of Dot’s apple pies,’ Nick whispered loud enough to be heard.

  After Sheriff Adkins unlocked the cell, Dot Clark stretched up and kissed Nick on the cheek. ‘Baking a few apple pies would be my pleasure, Lieutenant Harris.’

  Jill and Nick dropped off the repeat offenders and munched burgers and fries on the way back to Louisville. His well-cooked gumbo would have to wait for another night. Considering she had just agreed to marry him, they should have quite a few future evenings together.

  Nick stared at the Weather Channel, sipping coffee for a long time that morning. Yet he wouldn’t have been able to recount Louisville’s forecast if his life were at stake. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jill and his impromptu proposal. And the fact she hadn’t exactly said ‘yes’. Was he making a mistake by trying to rush things? Maybe they should just see where they were at in six months.

  Now in the harsh morning light, after a good night’s sleep, and without her family’s antics stressing her out, was Jill regretting her answer altogether? There was only one way to find out, but so far Nick hadn’t mustered the courage to call her. When his phone rang a few minutes later he reached for it, grateful that Jill had taken the timing out of his hands.

  ‘Good morning, sweet thing. I trust you slept well.’

  ‘Like a baby, Lieutenant Harris. This is Lisa Grimes of Louisville Homicide.’
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br />   Nick felt a flush of embarrassment crawl up his neck. ‘Sorry, Detective. I was expecting a call from my girlfriend.’

  ‘No problem. Other than that, am I interrupting anything?’

  ‘No, what can I help you with?’ Nick began to pace his apartment.

  ‘We’ve been checking into Ross Lacey’s alibi for the night William Scott died. Lacey said he’d spent the evening bar-hopping with an old friend from high school. When we finally tracked the guy down, he hadn’t seen Lacey in months. Since this friend works as a long-distance truck driver Lacey probably thought his alibi was safe.’

  ‘So our stalker is also a liar.’ Nick poured coffee into a travel mug. ‘I’d like to go with you, Detective, when you question him.’

  ‘I thought you might, hence the phone call. Unless you’d rather wait for your girlfriend to call.’ Grimes actually giggled on the other end.

  ‘That’s the miracle of mobile phones. Wherever a person goes they’re still available twenty-four-seven. Where should I meet you?’

  ‘Come down to the main precinct. Homicide is on the third floor. I’m having Lacey brought here for questioning. With any luck you two should arrive around the same time.’

  As Grimes predicted, two uniformed officers were delivering Lacey just as Nick walked up. ‘Come in, Lieutenant.’ Grimes waved him into the conference room. ‘We’re happy to welcome the state police as consultants today.’

  Lacey looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He also didn’t look happy to be there. ‘Why am I here? This is Homicide and you’ve got nothing to connect me to any murder.’ He growled more like a dog than a licensed stockbroker.

  ‘You’re here, Mr Lacey, because I don’t like being lied to. We found Paul Woodley, the friend you supposedly bar-hopped with the night William Scott died. He said he hadn’t seen you in years.’

  Lacey shrugged. ‘Yeah, so what? I was home watching TV alone that night. You would have interpreted that as a guilty plea. I know how cops think.’

  Grimes smiled slyly. ‘Do you now? We interpret lying as hiding something from us, which is usually a reliable indicator of guilt.’