The Dating Plan(67)
He left Joe to his work and took Jaxon for a tour of the malt house, one of three large warehouses where the whiskey was made, then went to the mash tun to watch the malt and water being stirred by giant paddles. They followed the liquid wort as it was passed into the old wooden wash back tanks where the yeast was added and fermentation began, and then walked into the stillroom.
“Look down here, Jaxon.” Liam squatted beside one of the oak casks where the whiskey was aging. “This cask came all the way from Ireland. This is where all the Murphy men leave their mark.” He pointed to the last name on the list. “That’s me. My grandfather gave me a knife to cut my name there when I told him one day I wanted to run the distillery.”
Jaxon squatted beside him. “Where’s Dad’s name?”
“Your dad and your grandfather were busy with the car business and didn’t have time to run the distillery.”
“I want to run it. I’m a Murphy man.” Jaxon stood up tall. “Can I put my name there?”
“Sure you can.” Liam pulled out his knife, and together they carved Jaxon’s name beneath Liam’s in the soft oak, and then blew out the sawdust for luck.
They had just started a game of hide-and-seek when Joe appeared in the doorway, his face creased with worry.
“You’d better come quick. There are a couple of contractors here. They say Brendan hired them to do site prep for tearing down the distillery. They’re planning to bring the demo crew out next week.”
His good humor faded in an instant. “What the f—” He cut himself off just in time. “Take Jaxon and give the estate lawyer a call. I’ll talk to them.”
He found the contractors in the visitor center, checking out the display of whiskey bottles in the tasting area.
“What the hell is going on?” His boots thudded over the worn, dark wood floor. The exposed beams in the ceiling had been painted to match, contrasting with the dingy, whitewashed walls covered in framed pictures of the Murphy distilleries over the years.
Usually the familiar scent of whiskey calmed him, but today it reminded him of everything he could lose.
“Just doing a site survey for the demo next week.” The taller of the two, a heavyset dude with thick arms and broad shoulders, held up a hand, palm forward. “We were hired by Brendan Murphy. I’ve got a work order in my truck. Do you want to see it?”
“Brendan doesn’t have the authority to sign anything,” Liam spat out. “The distillery is being held in a trust, administered by the law firm Abel & Ashford. Only they can sign off on a survey.”
“That’s who signed off,” the contractor said. “Brendan Murphy hired us but the name on the work order is Ed McBain from Abel & Ashford.”
“Christ.” No doubt Brendan had taken advantage of Ed’s inexperience. The junior lawyer had messed up big time.
Liam shoved his hand in his pocket and curled his fingers around his penknife. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ll get in touch with the lawyers and sort this out.”
The contractor scratched his head. “We’ve been paid to do a job, and it sounds like the right people signed the work order, so we need to get the work done. It’s just a survey. Nothing’s coming down today.”
“You walk anywhere other than to your truck and—”
“Liam!” Joe appeared in the doorway. “Let them do what they have to do. We’ll sort this out the right way. Don’t let Brendan send you down a path that will compromise everything you’ve built. Knowing him, he might have set this up to do exactly that. Think of Daisy. She’s got a stake in this, too.”
Liam gritted his teeth, taking deep breaths to try and slow the ragged throb of his pulse. Think of Daisy. No doubt she would be fiercely angry on his behalf, just as she had been when they’d met his investment banker friends at the hockey game. He could imagine her tossing out cutting French insults that no one could understand, or making everyone’s head spin with esoteric facts and the rules of law. She’d been sympathetic and understanding when he’d told her about his previous arrest; however, she might not be happy if he wound up in jail again. He couldn’t take that risk. Daisy was fast becoming the most important thing in his life. He didn’t want to lose her again.
“Get the hell out.” His voice was as sharp as the knife in his pocket, and the contractors scurried away.
After they’d gone, and Jaxon had been settled in the back office with a soda and a snack, Liam sat on the worn bench by the door, his head in his hands.
“What was Brendan thinking?” he said to Joe, who had come out to join him. “It’s three weeks to my birthday. If I’m not married by then, the distillery is his, free and clear. I introduced him to Daisy and he didn’t even believe our relationship was real, so what’s the big rush?”
Joe leaned back on the bench beside him, his arms folded under his head. “He was here the other day with Lauren. She told me his company is in big trouble, and the news is going to hit the papers in the next few days. Apparently, the IRS found some anomalies during an audit and reported them to the regulators, who started an investigation. Turns out your dad and four of the directors—friends he’d appointed to the board—were involved in some kind of fraud that affected the shareholders. I don’t understand the legal stuff, but it’s big, Liam. We’re talking tens of millions of dollars. Lauren says Brendan didn’t know anything about it. That he’s barely been keeping his head above water just trying to fix the mess your dad left when he died. The regulators have frozen the company’s assets. He can’t pay his employees . . . It’s a mess.”