“My daddy made the best moonshine and people came from miles around to get some. He got good money for it too. It’s sort of illegal, but that’s because of prohibition. It used to be illegal then, because alcohol of any kind was illegal. They never changed the rule though because the government would lose out on all the tax money. It’s cheap as woodchips to make.”
“Woodchips?”
“Just an expression. Cheap as woodchips at a sawmill. You don’t need woodchips to make moonshine. Just a still, cornmeal, sugar and yeast. After you distill it, putting it through charcoal turns it into good, safe-drinkin’ whiskey.”
“Interesting. It sounds as if you know exactly how it’s done.”
Morgaine was torn. Should she interfere? She probably wouldn’t have to. Sly would probably make some polite excuse not to get involved in something so illegal, or simply change the subject. Any moment now…
“I used to help him. I remember exactly how it’s done. You just put three pounds of sugar in a big bucket of hot water and stir it until all the sugar melts. Then stir in the yeast until that melt…”
“You mean, dissolves?”
“Yes, that’s the more proper way to say it. The heatin’ up part comes later. That’s where the still comes in.”
Morgaine scratched her head.…any minute.
“And do you know how to set up a still?”
“I sure do. If my memory needs refreshin’, I could probably look it up on the Internet. The Internet can tell ya how to do anything.”
Why was Sly still listening to Gwyneth’s hogwash? Morgaine knew he was a gentleman and all, but—The kettle whistled. As soon as she’d moved it off the burner, she heard him say,
“I could have people meet me after dark to buy it, I suppose.”
“That’s why I thought of it. They call it moonshine because people wait until the Sheriff’s in bed before they truck it out. O’course, our county sheriff was one of daddy’s best customers.”
Sly laughed.
Confused, Morgaine shook her head and poured the hot water into the teapot. She set everything on a tray to transport to the living room. Was he honestly considering that hairbrained idea?
By the time she reached them, it seemed as if Gwyneth and Sly were already hatching a plan.
“If I vacate my spot behind the false wall in the basement, maybe that would be enough room for the still, and it can stay hidden. I don’t want Merry to know about it.”
“Why? She’d never report it to the authorities,” Gwyneth said.
Morgaine poured a cup of tea and handed it to Sly, listening intently.
“I know she wouldn’t, but I don’t want to get her in trouble with her husband. The less she knows, the better.”
“I understand. What do you mean about a false wall?”
“That’s right. You’ve never seen my place. Have you?”
“I’ve seen the laundry room part of the basement. I know the other side’s for storage. I never really thought about y’all hiding behind a wall. I just figured maybe you was hold up in thecorner with a bunch of boxes blockin’ the view of your coffin—or whatever.”
He chuckled. “Nope. No coffin. And I built the wall as soon as I knew I’d be staying a while. Konrad took me in initially, but I couldn’t take advantage of his hospitality long term. The old landlord never went down to the basement, plus it was almost completely dark, so for my purposes, it was ideal.”
“Can I see it?” Gwyneth asked.
He sipped his tea. “Sure. I suppose you’ll need to, if you’re going to figure out whether or not a still will fit in there.”
Morgaine couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Sly, are you seriously considering this?”
He shrugged. “Somehow I don’t think my voice is sexy enough to get in on your business.”
Gulp. Touche.There wasn’t much she could say to counter that.
