I step out onto the deck behind Magnus against my better judgment and immediately fear for my life. The railings are barely attached, and there’s nothing else to keep me from tumbling into the rushing water of the river below.
Making sure I’m directly in the middle, I turn to the left. A white-haired old man in a fancy-looking chair sits on a much grander deck holding a shotgun pointed in my direction.
“Oh my God.” I duck behind Magnus, and he waves an arm.
“Don’t shoot my grand-niece. I’ll really kill you for that.”
I peek over Magnus’s shoulder, and Commodore lowers his gun to his lap.
“You finally kill Sylvia, girl?”
I shake my head and realize his eyesight probably isn’t good enough to see me.
“They took her to the hospital. Chest pains. I don’t know what happened.”
The old man’s chest shakes with booming laughter. “It’s always chest pains. Mark my words, she’ll die of spite when she’s older than me.”
I don’t know exactly how old Commodore Riscoff is, but I think it’s a few years north of Magnus’s advanced age.
“Guess I better call for an update.” He pierces me with a stare, and I realize I might be wrong about his eyesight. “Stay away from my grandson. You hear me? He’s gonna give the family an heir, and there ain’t gonna be a drop of Gable blood running through that boy’s veins.”
As Magnus hollers out a few choice slurs, Commodore wheels himself inside, a dog trotting beside him.
I turn to go back in, but Magnus takes a seat on the deck. “Make sure you don’t say anything you don’t want that old fucker to hear. He’s like a hawk even now.”
“Shouldn’t we go inside then?”
Magnus shakes his head. “Nah. I don’t know how many years I got left, but I’m going to spend as much time outside as I can, enjoying this view.”
I glance at the pockmarks in the peeling paint of the siding. “Are those from buckshot?”
Magnus nods with what almost looks like a grin on his face. “We like to keep it interesting around here. Otherwise, we might get so bored there’s no reason to live.”
I scan him for injuries, noting a few spots scabbing over on his arms. “You don’t aim at each other ... do you?”
With a shrug, he ignores my question. “Tell me about this new hullabaloo you caused.” He takes a swig of the moonshine and holds it out to me. “Because it seems to me that’s your specialty in life these days.”
I almost wave off the offer of the home brew, but it’s been a rough day. I clasp the glass jar in both hands and take the smallest swig.
I regret the decision immediately as my mouth catches fire and it spreads down my throat, all the way to my belly. “Jesus Christ.” I cough, and Magnus snatches the jar out of my hand before I spill any.
“Don’t tell me you went soft living in that city.”
I hack up a lung until the flames in my mouth finally settle down and I’m left with the flavor of gasoline. “How do you drink that?”
Magnus shrugs again and swills enough to knock me unconscious, and all he does is smack his lips at the end like it’s delicious.Maybe he really is crazy?
“We’re not talking about me, kid. I want the play-by-play. I assume you came here for a sympathetic ear, and I’m ready to hear every dirty detail.”
I bow my head and pinch the bridge of my nose between my left thumb and forefinger. “I didn’t even do anything. All I have to do is exist for her to have a heart attack.”
“Which seems more like aherproblem than ayouproblem, to my senile brain.” Magnus takes another sip.
“It could be a Jackie problem if she gets fired because of it.”
Magnus’s shoulders rise and fall again, which has always been half of his communication. “Jackie will land on her feet. She’s smart. She’s a Gable.”
“In this town, that seems to be a liability now as much as it ever was.”