Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy #3)

Temperance turns toward them. “You don’t think working with the fire department to figure out who started the fire at the rackhouse is enough to keep you busy? Because we sure as hell don’t have any answers to that one yet. Or who clubbed me over the head? You could maybe try to figure that one out.”

“Ma’am, it’s not our fault your security cameras malfunctioned completely.”

“What? How?” I ask.

“Sorry, ma’am. We don’t know,” the officer says. “It’s been ruled as arson, but they’re still working on the motive.”

“Then you better work on that, because I already told you, we didn’t do it.” Temperance’s tone is bullwhip sharp. “We need every freaking barrel to fill the orders we have. So, if you’re looking for insurance money as a motive, you need to go back to detective school.”

“We weren’t implying—”

“Of course you weren’t,” my dad says, interrupting him. “Because no Kilgore or Seven Sinners employee would ever let something happen to that whiskey. It’s our blood. Our heritage. Our legacy.” My dad gives Temperance an approving nod like they’re a team.

Shafts of guilt stab into me because I know I caused this. Neither of them have a clue. “I’m sorry, Dad—”

He snaps around to look at me. “This isn’t your fault. Whoever did this is going to pay. We’ll make them pay.”

I blink as tears burn my eyes once more. The one man who could answer every single one of these questions is gone.

Was the blonde behind all of it? I remember bits and pieces of her. His destiny. Who was she, though?

“We’re not trying to suggest that you had something to do with this. We’re just looking for answers the same way you are.”

“I don’t remember.” Everyone looks at me as the lie leaves my lips. “I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”

My insides are shredding—old loyalties versus new. Regardless of what happened and why, telling the cops isn’t going to help. Justice is delivered differently now. At least, it will be if he ever comes back.

I squeeze my eyes shut as the same question bounces through my brain like a pinball. Where is he?

“I’ll leave my card in case you remember anything,” the cop says, and I can’t read his tone.

Am I a bad liar? Can he tell?

“We’ll be sure to call, but in the meantime, do your damned jobs.”

My dad’s farewell sends the officers out of the room as I attempt to piece together the rest of what happened. I open my eyes, fixing my gaze on Temperance. I need to talk to her alone, but I don’t think my mom is going to let that happen.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

My COO nods. “I’m fine. I come from strong stock. It would take more than a whack to the head to end me.”

“Your brother . . .”

Her eyes narrow meaningfully. “He’s looking into things.”

Is that what Lachlan is doing too? Is that why he’s not here?

Temperance glances down at my naked left hand and then meets my gaze. “Anyone else you want me to call?”

“Do you have my phone?” Another memory slips into place. I was going to call Lachlan when everything went dark.

“No. Do you remember where you lost it?”

The implications of not having a phone have never been quite so dire. Without my phone, I can’t contact my husband. I don’t know his number.

“The rackhouse. I had it there,” I tell her, panic rising.

“No one said they found it, but I can call anyone you want.”

I bite my lip. “I . . . I appreciate the offer. But I really need my phone.”

Temperance nods, understanding dawning on her features. “I’ll ask the firefighters. Maybe they found it and kept it as evidence, and forgot to mention it.”

“Thank you.”

“What else can I do?”

“You can leave her alone to rest,” my dad says, his voice gruff now that he’s chased away two cops. Apparently, his respect for Temperance has worn off quickly.

“Dad, stop. Temperance is my COO. She’s amazing. Be nice.”

“COO?” His head jerks toward her. “Thought you were a secretary.”

“Stop,” I say, my voice weakening. “I can’t handle this right now.”

“David, I need more coffee,” my mom says.

“But I just got you—”

“More. Now.”

My dad grumbles and turns to leave.

Mom gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry, honey. He’s been worked up.”

Temperance reaches down and threads her fingers through mine. “Do you want me here, or do you want me to hold down the fort?”

“You should be home, resting.”

“Boss, you know me better than that. Besides, I just got knocked on the head. No one put a hole in me. I’m fine.”

“I’m not asking you to work. No way.”

She smiles. “You don’t have to. I’d do it anyway. If you need anything at all, call me.”

As she releases my fingers, I want to beg her to find Lachlan and bring him to me, but I never even told her about him in precise terms. The only person in my world who knows about him is Magnolia, and she’s somewhere in this hospital, in a coma. Because of that crazy blond bitch.

Who was she? Is that why he’s gone? Did she hurt him? The thought crushes me, sending me mentally stumbling backward. Is he dead?

No. No. No.

I refuse to believe that.

Lachlan Mount is superhuman. Not even a bullet could stop him. It didn’t before.

Then why isn’t he here? I’m torn between anger and desperation, willing to bargain away my soul just to see his face and make sure he’s okay.

He wouldn’t leave me. He wouldn’t.

I’m tiring again, but I have to ask my mom one very important question.

“Have I had any other visitors, Mom?” When she nods, my heart lifts. “Who?”

“Pretty much everyone we know in this town has stopped by. Your dad has kept them all in the hall, but it’s been quite the parade.”

“Anyone . . . anyone you didn’t know?”

Her brow creases. “What do you mean, honey?”

I want to ask her so badly, but I can’t. Instead, I take the coward’s way out and close my eyes to feign sleep as my heart cracks again.

Where is he?





Keira





“Dance with me, Lachlan. Dance with me in Dublin.”

His face, normally so stern, has changed tonight. He has changed tonight. When he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd of dancing Irish men and women, a smile turns his mouth into the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell him. I’m drunk and I don’t care.

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“Lies. All lies. Because you are.”

He spins me as we pretend we know this Irish jig, and brings me back against his hard body. “We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Fine. But I’m still right.”

His smile brightens the entire room. I swear it could light a pitch-black sky. He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Not right, but priceless all the same.”

“Pssh. We both know my price. You found it.” The answer flies from my lips without thought, my filter gone, thanks to the booze.

He jerks back, staring down at me, all humor gone from his face. “Don’t you say that. Because that is pure bullshit. I couldn’t buy you with every penny I have.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Whatever you’re thinking, I promise, you’re wrong.”

I’m thinking that I’m in big trouble because my heart is tumbling out of my control as the man who once terrified me now stares at me with warmth and admiration in his gaze.