He harrumphed. “It ain’t as easy as it looks.”
“It don’t look easy at’all. In fact, I’ve never seen a more rickety pile of junk as that still.”
“It’s my great-granddaddy’s design.”
Before Corrine could comment on that, Laurel stepped in. “Ernie, let me stir the mash. You walk Corrine through the process.”
It took him an hour to explain all the still’s components and their various functions. Lesson over, Corrine asked to be excused to seek a private spot to relieve herself.
Ernie said to Laurel, “Wouldn’t have taken half as long if she hadn’t asked so many dadgum questions.”
“They were good questions, Ernie, about things she needs to know.”
“She always rattle on that much?”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I doubt it. What happened to her eye?”
“She took a beating from the late Wally Johnson.”
He looked in the direction Corrine had gone. “She’s the whore?”
“Don’t use that word again.” After her sharp rebuke, she set her hand on his arm in conciliation. “Listen, Ernie, when Mr. Hutton brought Irv home last night, I thought he was dead. I’m sure you were fit to be tied when he didn’t show up for work. It was a rough night on all of us. Fair to say, we’re feeling the strain?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry to spring Corrine on you,” she continued, “but it was actually Irv’s idea, and at first even I was resistant to it.” She recapped for him the conversation she and Irv had had early that morning. “We’ve got to keep up production or we’ll soon be out of business. In fact, our supply is already low. I’ll walk back to the shack and bring the car around. Irv said you had some crates stashed away. I need to take them back with me.”
“They was stole.”
Her breath escaped her. “What?”
“I wasn’t gonna tell you, didn’t want you worrying.”
She backed up to an upended crate and sat down. “Well, I’m worried now. When were they stolen?”
“Night before last. I’d added a crate to the stash that day. Went back yesterday to add another one. They’s all gone.”
“How many?”
“Ten.”
One hundred and twenty jars of one hundred proof. She did the math. Her heart sank over the amount of the loss.
Ernie said, “I would’ve told Irv last night, only he got shot.” He raised his bony shoulders.
“Where was this stash hidden?”
“Over in that cedar break.”
She looked in the direction he’d pointed. “That nearby?”
“Thirty yards, maybe. I’d dug a hole big as a grave, thought I had it covered up good with brush.”
“Who could have gotten that close without your knowing?”
Another shrug. “I wasn’t doing a run that night. Did some tinkering on the new still. Shored up the firebox with more rock. Crawled into the tent pretty early. Never heard a thing.” He pushed his hands into the deep pockets of his overalls. “You trust those twins?”