Chapter 62: News of Sean
“Trelawny, I don’t care about moonshine distribution rights. Even if I handed one to you, where would you sell it? Valentine, Strawberry Town—they’re already saturated with my moonshine. The farms in New Hanover, the oil-field hands, the ranch workers—they’re all buying mine now.”
“Do you plan to take it to Annesburg, Van Horn Trade Port, or even New Austin and Lemore?”
“Trust me, that wouldn’t be a smart move. You’d likely lose your life trying.”
Bootlegging isn’t something you jump into willy-nilly. There are a lot of gang interests tangled up in it. Valentine used to be O’Driscoll territory, their stronghold centered at Six-Point Cabin, until Arthur and the others leveled it. Since the Van der Linde Gang hit Blackwater, their reputation has carried across the West; a lot of Davey’s success in moonshine comes from that terrifying name alone.
Small gangs won’t touch you, and the bigger ones whose bases are elsewhere generally won’t pick a fight. But sell on another gang’s turf and be ready to be eaten alive.
“All right, Davey, maybe I was overthinking it. But money’s getting harder to come by—robberies barely bring in much anymore.”
“I was wondering if you had any work for me. Could be a way to earn some coin.”
Trelawny was clever. He knew pitching moonshine elsewhere was near impossible—and honestly, he didn’t really want to run the trade. He’d tossed out the big ask only to follow with a smaller request.
Davey saw through it at once and smiled. “There actually is something I need your help with, Trelawny.”
“I’m planning to open a cake shop and a café in Valentine, but I’m short on baking equipment, pastry chefs, and baristas.”
“If you can find them, I’ll pay you well.”
“And I want top-quality gear and the best people—don’t bring me some apprentices to patch things together. Convincing them is on you.”
“We’re friends, so I won’t let you walk away empty-handed, even if you don’t manage it.”
“Here—$200. Consider it a deposit and travel and lodging money. Bottom line: I need the best pastry chefs and baristas.”
Davey set two wallets on the table to show he meant business. Paying up front was a favor given to a friend.
Now that he had legal papers, Davey was moving into legitimate enterprises; a cake shop and café made a fine front. Places like that wouldn’t normally exist in a livestock town like Valentine—those belonged in cities—but he didn’t mind running at a loss. He needed respectable storefronts to launder cash. With the moonshine operation expanding, daily income kept climbing—he’d pulled in over $1,800 just yesterday. Beyond the two small towns, the trade was already spreading to oil fields, factories, ranches, and farms.
“Trust me, Davey. I can find people you’ll be happy with. I’ve got the connections for this.”
“People will come—if you pay them right.”
Trelawny slipped the two wallets into his pocket and grinned. Two hundred dollars was a tidy sum for him, and if he delivered, there’d be more. As an information broker, he knew how to find the right folk.
Davey nodded. “Salary won’t be a problem. If they’re willing to come, I’ll pay them more than they’re making now.”
Though the main goal was laundering money, Davey wouldn’t complain about eating good pastries—having a private pastry chef wasn’t a bad deal.
...
“Oh, and one more thing, Davey—about Sean.”
“I’ve been digging up news on Sean MacGuire. The bounty hunters caught him, and he’s locked up in the Blackwater jail. The bounty’s already been collected—they’re planning to transfer him to a federal prison.”
“If they move him to a federal facility, rescuing the lad will be damn near impossible.”
“I’ve already told Dutch. He’s decided to try and rescue Sean during the transfer to the federal prison.”
“So, Davey—are you coming?” Trelawny asked.
Davey hesitated briefly, then shook his head. “No. I’m not going.”
“My situation’s different now. With the moonshine business, too many people are watching me; my movements are easy to trace. If I show up in Blackwater, the Pinkertons will notice and make the rescue a lot harder.”
“As for that bastard Sean—hell, take Mac with you. I honestly wonder when he’s finally going to die from some woman’s trouble.”
Author's Note
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