Deputy Porter - Cover

Deputy Porter

Copyright© 2012 by carniegirl

Chapter 206

After my meeting with Monk, I was optimistic that we could all coexist until spring at least. So I went home and to work. I was pretty much locked in the compound all the time. I tried to ride my bike any time I could squeeze a few hours away from the still. The old moonshiners said there wasn't time to do anything, but make liquor when you were making liquor. I got that feeling for sure. When the fermented mash went into to the cooker it was as demanding as a baby. I ran up to 170 in a few hours and from then on you had be present to control the heat.

When it stopped running I cleaned the cooker and forced a few hours to visit The Brit and to ride my bike. Then it was back to the still house to add the fermented mash and start it all again. My mash worked till it was absolutely through fermenting, since I had to cook a barrel in three batches. I did that because my cooker was small. It was small but I kept everything working just fine. I had a battery on the charger while one ran the pump. It was labor intensive but I really didn't want to do anything else.

Even something that you enjoy becomes boring after a while, and so it was with making liquor. Monk was buying all I could cook and distributing it where ever he wanted. He might be pouring it into the town's water supply and I really didn't care.

It was almost springtime in the mountains and I was getting bored. Even more bored than usual which made me dangerous. All along I had stored some of the liquor just to have my own supply. I stored it in what we called a dry well. It was a highest spot on the property. To make a dry well you dug a hole in the ground, then lined it with clay pipe, and then you would build a well house to keep rain water out of your dry well. That is how it used to be done. These days I just dug a hole deep enough to bury a fifty gallon plastic barrel almost completely. Then put the top on it, seal it, and cover it with camo netting. It was a large area of storage not in my house and I could deny it was mine if someone stumbled across it.

In early April when I made the final decision to cook off the last few gallons and fill that dry well, I a month or so I would shut down the still and put it in storage. I intended to play and have fun during the spring and summer. I might or might not go back to cooking liquor the next fall.

I got the call from Jeremy after an early dinner of frozen Mac and Cheese as well as 'hot from the oven' corn muffins. At the time his call came in I was sitting back with a TV show from the night before running on my computer.

"Silvia we need you to come to the pub now. It's nothing bad but it is important it's about Allen." the kid said.

"Is Allen alright?" I asked.

"Yes, but we need your help, please come now," he said.

"Alright I'm on the way. I grabbed the .22 mag and a handful of shells. I also grabbed my cut down twenty gauge over and under shotgun. If I needed more than those, I would have to play it by ear. I did wear the Kevlar just to add some protection, but safety wasn't my main concern, when I parked my Cruiser in the alley behind the pub.

Jeremy had never called asking for help, so I was taking it very seriously. I went in through the kitchen which was empty. That wasn't right for the kitchen of the pub to be empty while it was open. So I stepped though the kitchen door into the pub with the shotgun up and ready for anything. Yes, I would be ready for trouble, but I would look foolish, if Jeremy and The Brit were having a surprise birthday party for me. Which of course they were.

"Jeremy you are a dead man," I whispered as I put down the shotgun after unloading it. I also removed the lightweight Kevlar feeling like a complete fool. I was greeted by cops and killers from all over the state.

"Go easy on Jeremy, you only turn thirty once Sylvia," The Brit said.

"Thank god," I replied. "I see you invited the detective from Dobson."

"Yes, Jeremy doesn't know of course, and frankly it makes us look even more innocent. You done good keeping me out of it." The Brit said.

"It wasn't hard, you had nothing to do with it," I said ending that thread of conversation.

"Happy Birthday Sylvia, you are only thirty you seem older," Agent Mission said.

"Mission thanks for coming. You are spending a lot of time here, aren't you?" I asked.

"It sure seems so. We are investigating some politicians this time," she said.

"Well then you should be able to sit back and enjoy this party, since I'm not the one under investigation this time," I said.

"You would think so wouldn't you. Morris seems to be enjoying herself," Mission replied.

"You could take a lesson from her. Maybe get up on the table and dance," I said.

"My dear Sylvia, this is as loose as I get," Mission said.

"Too bad," I replied.

There were several local cops and the pub's usuals at the party. Then we had our own Tomas and his family present. The Swampdog crowd blew in about ten and from then on it was all about them. They kept the whole place fascinated with stories and attitude. By Midnight people began leaving. Mission I noted left alone, but I also noted a Swamp guy left right after her. I had to smile.

Then of course Andrew came over, after he had flirted with all the women. "So you come to me after you strike out with all the other women?" I asked.

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