Chapter 191

I'm gonna hire you to Ghostwrite a book on making moonshine. We gonna have a beer every day for a week or so and you are gonna tell me all you know about making moonshine. I want to know what it's like to search for the place to set up what I can and can't use all that sort of thing.

When we are finished I will give you five hundred dollars and make a couple of calls to get your daughter a slot at the University Christmas Camp. What do you say.

"Well I like to drink beer and hell I would tell you about moon-shining as long as the beer holds out for free, so of course it's a deal," Bosco said

"I need to tell you this is between us and you will sign a non disclosure contract. I'll probably take full credit for the book, so I don't won't you out saying it's my book," I said.

"Hell my probation officer would probably frown on me writing a book on moonshine anyway," Bosco said.

"Okay, so let's go find a quiet place for a drink," I said.

"You got a guard with you, so get a six pack, and we can do the talking out by the reservoir. There a overlook on the Shiloh Church road," he said.

"I know where that place. I'll meet you there in ten minutes," I said.

I drove off to the closest convenience that sold beer. "Is he gonna trust you, and can you trust him?" Andrew ask.

"He is going to trust me, because he has nothing to lose, and everything to gain. I'm going to trust hiim because I'm going to verify everything he tells me. I"ll look it all up on the internet," I said.

"If you are going to verify everything, why are you going to bother with Bosco?" Andrew continue.

"From talking to Bosco I'll get a feel for the business, not just the written word," I replied.

Andrew looked at me while I paid for the beer then followed me to the car. When we got inside, he said, "You gonna have him make the shit for you?"

"Let's say it's an option down the road." I replied.

We were waiting for Bosco when Vivian called me. "Hello Vivian," I said into the phone, "It seems we might have something to talk about after all."

"I thought we might have after you had a chance to think about it. So when do you plan to meet?" she asked.

"Well I'm in a meeting now, so when is good for you? I'm pretty flexible." I said.

"How about we meet at Old George's Chicken Coop tonight?" she asked.

"I expect that is a possibility," I agreed. "You aren't wasting my time I hope."

"I'm more worried about you wasting mine," She said.

"Well, I guess we will both just have to feel our way along," I said. Yes I knew we both looked a little butch, so it sounded suggestive. I really didn't care how it sounded. We were going to be all about business.

"Damn Sylvia, when you move you move like hell. You are all business," Andrew said.

"So I need to remind you that you owe me and keeping your mouth shut about this is pay back. Not to mention I might need a competitor killed some day." I said.

"I can see it now, I can write a book when it is finished. I can call it the great moonshine wars. Sell it to TV and Retire," he said.

"Just as long as you wait till everyone is dead," I said.

"I'm only half kidding, if the shit gets rank you call me," Andrew said.

"That was my plan all along," I said. "Why do you think I screwed you?"

"Good, then here comes Mr. Bosco. We can start our education." Andrew said.

Bosco sat at the picnic table with a plastic cup of beer. He had the lapel microphone on his shirt and the digital portable recorder sitting on the table top. "So Bosco you ready?" I asked.

"Let her rip," he answered.

I spent the whole hour asking about fixture, from what they needed to be made and what sizes I needed to make what volumes. I found out a lot like I need approx five gallons of mash for every gallon of liquor I hoped to run.

Bosco could drink some beer. By the time he had told me about holding barrels and cookers the six pack was gone. So we agreed to meet the next day. He was back in his truck and gone before Andrew asked, "Do you trust him?"

"As much as I trust anyone who hasn't been beside me when the bullets fly." I said.

"You are right, we don't trust many people do we?" he asked.

"I can count them on the fingers of one hand," I said.

Can't we all," Andrew said. "So what is the chicken like at our next stop?"

"Old George has two long chicken houses and a fenced in yard. He goes out and kills the chickens every day then fries them. He feeds on picnic tables outside in the summer. You can't really say 'serves' cause it's pay at the door, when you come in, then go get whatever you want." I explained.

"Sounds like a place with character," he said.

"It's the only chicken I can eat. Restaurant chicken give me the runs. I'm allergic to some cheap antibiotic or something. George doesn't have his chickens long enough to get sick. They bring him new small chickens and a week later his house is probably empty. Frankly Andrew it's better not to ask any more than that," I suggested.

It was close to five when we got to the house. We went in and changed for dinner. I don't mean dressed fancy, I mean put on long sleeve sweat shirts. Mine had the logo of the community college nearest to us. "Some college student leave that?" Andrew asked.

"That my friend is none of your business. So where did your army ranger shirt come from?" I asked in return.