Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
I was going to Madison. If I was overreacting, then it was his fault. He’d told me he was leaving after taking me home, and he’d left his underwear behind. Both of those things were off.
Deep down, it didn’t feel like my imagination. There was a warning bell going off in my head that wouldn’t shut up. Not to mention, my gut was equally as loud. And until I laid eyes on him, I wouldn’t be okay.
It had taken me longer than anticipated to get here. The flight I’d book was delayed three times and then canceled. I had to get another flight with another airline, and it was the last flight out that night. The airport in Jacksonville was empty, except for those getting off our plane, yet it took forever in luggage claim. To make things even more complicated, the rental car counters were all closed, but it was after midnight, so really, I had expected as much. I needed my own car, and it wasn’t as if I could pull up to the security gate at Ransom’s house in the middle of the night. I had to get a room at the closest hotel and stay the night.
I wasn’t sure I’d slept any, but I thought I might have dozed off a time or two. Not that it mattered. I was up, showered, and dressed by six. The Uber I ordered had me at the airport car rentals fifteen minutes before seven, when they opened, and I waited outside the door.
The website to Carver’s Bootleg Whiskey said the office hours were ten to five, Monday through Friday. The dates for holiday closures said New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. It was Friday, January 2, and I was hoping they hadn’t decided to remain closed for a long weekend. Someone had to be there. At least that was what I was telling myself as I drove the thirty minutes in my rental, thinking of a multitude of scenarios that could play out when I got there.
If the distillery was closed, then I’d go to the house. Press that intercom-button thing on the security gate and ask for Ransom. I didn’t like that idea though. If they were tracing my calls, then my showing up might be an issue. Although I hadn’t done anything to these people. I still didn’t understand why my phone calls were being traced. One more thing he’d not been around to explain to me yesterday morning.
The closer I got, the more anxious I felt.
The turn was up ahead, and the sign on the main road pointing to the entrance sent my anxiety skyrocketing. I had to calm down, or they’d all think I was crazy. The panic attack threatening to take over was hard to fight back. Taking several deep, slow breaths, I focused on that as I came to my turn.
“Please be here,” I whispered when I pulled onto the paved drive that led to the distillery.
I’d never been here. I had passed by this place a thousand times in my youth, but not once turned onto this road or drove under the arched sign. It was a big part of Ransom’s life, and although I knew a lot about it because of what he’d shared with me over the years, I never actually set foot on the property. I also had no idea what the office building looked like or if it was going to be hard to find.
The bend in the road led me to a large, open parking lot with two buildings. The one on my right was a big industrial-looking structure with oak barrels stacked outside. The one on the right was a log cabin—a rather large log cabin. There were three cars parked out front, and I pulled up beside the truck that I remembered seeing in the garage at Ransom’s house. It wasn’t his truck, but it had been there. Which meant someone here lived with him. That was a good thing.
My phone started to ring, and Jellie’s name lit up the screen. I’d already forwarded one call from her to voicemail yesterday and then texted her that I was writing. But now was not the time to talk. She wanted all the details I wouldn’t be giving her about Ransom. Once again, I sent her to voicemail and then put my phone on Do Not Disturb before shoving it in my purse and opening the car door. I would deal with her wrath later.
I barely made it two steps from my car toward the house when the front door swung open, and Than Carver came stalking out. Every photo I’d seen of him smiling and the way Ransom had spoken about him being easygoing and the friendlier out of the two did not fit with his furious expression as he glared at me. I froze, unsure if that rage was centered on me or if I’d just shown up at the wrong time.