Truth or Beard (Winston Brothers #1)

“It makes sense,” Beau said encouragingly. I was not encouraged.

“It does,” Jethro agreed. “Razor hates my guts already, because of…well, the past. He doesn’t know Beau, but he can spot a bullshitter a mile away.”

“Are you calling me a bullshitter?” Beau frowned at Jethro.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Jethro admitted smoothly.

“Okay. Just making sure. Carry on.” Beau’s smile was back and he looked quite satisfied, likely because it took one to know one.

“And Cletus…well, no offense, Cletus, but Razor won’t respond well to your style, either.”

“Agreed.” Cletus nodded once and took another bite of my cold pancakes. When he spoke next, he spoke around a full mouth. “It has to be Duane. He’s abrupt, irritable, and those charlatans don’t scare him any. He’s perfect.”

It was my turn to exhale loudly, shaking my head, but not willing to argue the point just yet. We’d have plenty of time to debate this later. Right now I wanted answers. “So, what did you do, Cletus? How did you inform the police without them knowing?”

“You know how I help with those mail sorter machines at the police stations and the central office? I maintain them for three counties. Just one of the many ways I spend my time helping the citizens of Tennessee.”

“Yes. We know,” Jethro answered for all of us.

“Well, funny thing about those machines. Letters get stuck and unstuck all the time. When a machine breaks and needs fixing, I sometimes find letters that are years old.”

Beau and I quickly shared a glance. “Are you telling me that you planted a letter in one of those machines? Down at the station?” he asked.

Cletus shook his head. “No. Of course not. I didn’t plant anything in any of the machines. But I did slip a certified letter in with a stack of old mail, mail found in one of those machines during a service call, and then subsequently placed into storage unopened. I even know the box and shelf number where it’s kept. I believe I even have the receipt for the certified letter upstairs someplace.”

Again, Beau and I were rendered speechless. And this time Jethro was as well. The three of us sat in stunned silence for several seconds, watching Cletus eat my pancakes like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Jethro stirred from our trance first. “Well then, I guess Duane will just explain to Razor that the police have a certified letter in their possession detailing the existence of the traps…?”

“That’s right,” Cletus agreed. “I included pictures of the cars, their VIN numbers, and the traps. As well, I described the sequence for opening the compartments. I have a copy of the documentation in my room…someplace.”

Beau shook his head and barked a laugh. “I can’t believe you, Cletus.”

“Believe me, Beau. But there is one more thing,” Cletus said grimly, moving his eyes to me. “You never answered my original question.”

“Yes, I did. We didn’t tell you because—”

“Not that one.” He waved his hand in the air as though swatting my words away. “The pancakes. How do you get them to be so light? It’s amazing.”

I shook my head at my eccentric older brother and answered honestly because I was so tired. “Egg whites.”

“What?”

I stood and stacked the plates. “It’s egg whites. I keep them separate. Then I whip them ’til they’re stiff, and fold them in at the end. It makes the pancakes super light.”

“Oh…” Also standing, he nodded, as though deep in thought. But then unexpectedly asked, “Why do you look like that, Duane?”

“Like what, Cletus?”

“Like your heart is diseased. I told you, we’re in the clear. No need to worry any longer. And your egg white secret is safe with me.”

“I know.” I nodded, but didn’t respond further because I had nothing to say. I wasn’t going to whine about Jessica. I was going to suck it up and move on…eventually. In about thirty years.

Unfortunately, Beau liked to gossip. “He’s upset because Jessica James just inherited a mountain of money from her aunt and now she’s leaving.”

I glared at my twin, promising retribution at a later date. He gave me a sympathetic look in exchange, which only fueled my ire. I didn’t want pity.

“Miss James is leaving? In the middle of the school year?” Cletus appeared to be genuinely distressed. “But we were just getting to integrals.”

I shrugged. “I don’t rightly know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Jackass James pulled us over, told us both a week ago.” Beau pressed the point while Jethro raised an eyebrow and glanced between the two of us.

“Jessica James…” Jethro said her name thoughtfully, as though trying to recall her image. “Didn’t she wait tables at Daisy’s Nut House? You’ve had a thing for her since I can remember.”