Road Trip: BBQ And A Brawl (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 19)

by Michael Anderle

  James snorted. A level-three bounty was barely worth Trey’s time, let alone his, but at least it gave him an excuse to get involved. He wouldn’t just be some do-gooder trying to solve an acquaintance’s problem. This would be an official job.

  “What is it?” Cyrus asked.

  “They’ve got a bounty, but it’s not as high as I would have expected.” James slipped his phone back into his pocket. “So if they’re involved, it’ll be pretty easy to clean up.”

  I think I’ll wait to tell Shay about this. Not sure if she’ll be pissed that I’ve been doing so much bounty work on my road trip.

  Nadina pursed her lips. “The question remains whether I should cancel tomorrow.”

  “What’s going on tomorrow?” James asked.

  “I’ve got a charity event at a local youth center, barbeque for the kids. I’ve thought about pulling out, but they’re depending on me, and this is supposed to help with donations. I’m donating too, but I don’t want them to lose out.” Nadina shook her head. “The Defenders wouldn’t attack anywhere children might be, would they?”

  “You should go,” Cyrus insisted. “We have it under control.”

  James cleared his throat. “I’m not an expert on this kind of thing, but spooking you might be their whole plan.”

  Cyrus nodded. “He’s right. If the FBI and police don’t think it’s a big threat, it might just be that the HDL is talking trash to get you frightened.”

  Nadina sighed. “That makes sense.” Her phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket. “I need to take this.” She nodded at the door.

  Cyrus opened the door and stepped out. James stood and followed. The security chief closed the door behind him once he was out.

  “I’m not going to pretend I’m all that happy about you being around, Mr. Brownstone,” Cyrus explained. “But if your presence can help keep Nadina safe, I won’t bitch too much.”

  James grunted and shrugged.

  “Nadina’s going to leave town in a few days for a quick trip to Europe. This will all probably turn out to be nothing.” Cyrus managed a smile, but its vulpine quality set James on edge. “And you can go back to LA.”

  “Don’t worry. If these HDL fucks get anywhere near Nadina, I’ll make them understand why nobody fucks with a pitmaster.”

  Cyrus laughed. “You’re a strange man, James Brownstone.”

  James shrugged. “I’ve been called a lot worse.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You’re shitting me,” Shay exclaimed over the phone, then snickered. “Sometimes I think there’s a god of mischief hiding behind you who likes to mess with you.”

  James had returned to his hotel room and decided to call his wife, despite his earlier thought to keep his plans to himself. Upon reflection, he returned to one of the main lessons he had learned in his years of marriage: lying by omission never worked out in the long run, regardless of the reason.

  “Happy wife, happy life” might be a cliché and easy to ignore, but most men’s wives weren’t retired ex-killers or tomb raiders with short tempers and access to deadly magical artifacts.

  James now sat on the edge of his bed, his phone in hand, finishing his explanation.

  “Nope.” James grunted. “Those HDL fucks I saw protesting the other day might be annoying, but if they had the balls to do something to the building, they already would have. The Defenders do have an organizational bounty, so I might as well put in some local effort. The cops seem reluctant, for whatever reason.”

  Shay chuckled. “So let me get this straight: you’re staying in Denver not to enjoy barbeque, but to hunt down a terrorist group for a bounty? I know you helped Trey because he asked, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said you should take a road trip.”

  “That about sums it up. You’re saying you’re pissed?”

  “Not at all. You don’t sound stressed, and that’s my only real concern. It’s hard to tell with you and ass-kicking. Sometimes it relaxes you, and sometimes it just pisses you off more.” Shay sighed. “I’m hoping this doesn’t mean you’ll need another road trip after this one to think about the baby again, though. That was supposed to be the point, rather than you defending the honor of barbeque from all who would besmirch it.” She offered the last few words in an atrocious English accent.

  James smiled. “No, the road trip helped with the baby.”

  “It did?” Shay sounded cautious yet hopeful.

  “Yeah. I’m not saying I’m never gonna wonder about anything going forward, but all this barbeque stuff made me realize I have something great I can share with the kid. Alison was too old to be raised as a true barbeque lover.”

  Shay laughed. “So I tell you that I’m having our child, and you’re all concerned about whether you can handle it, but now you’re excited because you’ll have a barbeque buddy?”

  “Yeah. Basically.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if Whispy engineered that barbeque obsession into you for some strange reason only he understands,” Shay replied, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You’ve been changed so many ways, but the core of the man always remains.”

  James furrowed his brow at the thought. He had rarely communicated with his symbiont about anything food-related. Whispy only cared about power, and that meant he only cared about magic items or the increasingly few times that James became furious while bonded.

  Nah. Not everything is a Vax-symbiont conspiracy.

  “Fine,” Shay muttered. “Just so we’re on the same page. How long do you think you’ll be staying in Denver? It’s not like I need you right away, but you know how sad Thomas gets when you’re gone. It’s like he thinks I’m sending you off to fight demons every time you’re gone for more than a day.”

  “I figure it’ll only be a few more days. You know how these kinds of assholes operate. They want media attention, and if they wait too long, they might lose the chance to be the big story since there’s always some asshole blowing something up somewhere. I’ll poke around, but I don’t even think it’ll be that hard, and that’s if someone’s actually trying something, and they aren’t all talk.”

  “And if they are trying something?” Shay inquired.

  “Then I kick them through a few walls,” James rumbled. “Those guys are a bunch of pussies who like to hide. Once I find them, I can end them.”

  “Uh-huh.” Shay sighed. “I don’t care that you’re doing this since I want you to have a good time, whatever that means, but I do think I have to point something out. I don’t want you pissed off later.”

  “What?” James frowned.

  Shay took a deep breath. “If you blow up Nadina’s restaurant, you’ll be doing the terrorists’ work for them. I know you’d pay to fix it, but her business will lose momentum, and people might stop going out of fear. You’ve dealt with terrorists before, but usually, you’ve gone after them on their turf or somewhere that didn’t matter much if it got damaged.”

  James scoffed. “I’m not blowing up her restaurant, and I’m not letting anyone else blow it up either. If there’s a fight, it’ll be somewhere else. I’m gonna make sure of that.” He nodded firmly to himself. It wasn’t like he always destroyed a building.

  We didn’t total the golf course. I mean, there was what? A couple of major craters? They can fill that shit in easily.

  Years ago, the Council had attacked James at a restaurant, and although the owner had benefited from the publicity in the long range, James suspected Shay was right. Any action against Nadina’s place didn’t have to do major damage, it just had to plant the seed of fear. The HDL, ironically, was only constrained by their concern about collateral damage.

  Fuck it. I’ll just have to find them first.

  James let out a low growl. “I’ll remember everything you said, but it’s late, and you should get some rest.”

  “The baby isn’t going to pop out early because I’m up a little late, but I am tired,” Shay replied. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. I love you, and d
o try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum. You’re supposed to be retired, remember?”

  “I remember, and I love you too. And I always… Uh, okay, sure. I’ll try.” James grunted.

  Shay ended the call, and James set his phone on the nightstand.

  A small smile broke out.

  Maybe I needed an ass-kicking road trip as much as a barbeque road trip—just a little exercise where the stakes aren’t so high, unlike what happened with Alison, or even Trey. This isn’t about stopping a dangerous drug from flooding a city. It’s just about finding a bunch of assholes who have it coming and showing them who they should really be scared of.

  A half-hour later, James flipped through the channels on the hotel tv. He had intended to go to sleep, but fatigue eluded him despite the long day. After a few channel changes, he stopped when he spotted the word “local barbeque restauranteur” in a news chyron. James turned the volume up and read the full text.

  Local pitmaster takes issue with Nadina.

  James narrowed his eyes.

  A white-haired man was showing a reporter around a grill in the back of his restaurant as a voice-over played. His wrinkles deepened as he smiled.

  “Many people know Atticus Taylor as ‘the Pork Wizard,’” the reporter explained in a voiceover. “He has been part of the Denver barbeque scene for over twenty years. He opened his first restaurant after leaving behind a long career as a financial manager. Dissatisfied with his career and financially secure, he decided to step away from his old job and pursue a lifelong passion: barbeque.”

  The image changed to a direct shot of Atticus sitting in a chair, competition trophies arrayed on a table behind him, chatting with a relaxed and easy smile.

  James had heard the guy’s name at competitions, but he wasn’t one of the top pitmasters in the scene. That didn’t necessarily mean anything. Some people only liked to cook and didn’t like competitions, but the trophy table seemed to imply otherwise. The shot wasn’t long enough for James to identify any of the trophies.

  Might just be a news story, but it kind of pisses me off.

  “Could you give us your thoughts about the recent protest in front of the Spice and Spell?” the reporter asked with a serious expression on his face. “None other than pitmaster and former bounty hunter James Brownstone has made some very strong public statements about it.”

  James grunted. He was surprised no reporters had tracked him to his hotel.

  Atticus let out a long, weary sigh. “This is America, the land of opportunity, and to have these men come here and protest her because of her species just isn’t right.” He clucked his tongue. “They should be ashamed of themselves. That goes against everything I believe in as a man and a pitmaster.”

  James nodded. Damn right.

  Atticus frowned. “But that doesn’t mean there are no issues to be considered with the opening of this restaurant. And I want to be clear: I’ve been talking about this ever since I first heard she was going to open a place here. I’ve got statements online from six months ago.”

  The camera shifted to a shot of the reporter nodding.

  Atticus raised a finger. “Local businesses mean stronger investment in the local economy. I’m from Denver, and I have an investment in this city. Not just as a place of business, but as a place I call home. I never had any children, so my barbeque career is kind of like my child.”

  The reporter nodded. “I don’t understand. Are you saying Nadina shouldn’t be able to open a restaurant here or that she should?”

  “It’s not that she shouldn’t. I’m saying she’s a celebrity. She’s been on several shows, and not just Barbeque Wars years ago.” Atticus shook his head. “While I’m sure her barbeque tastes fine, she’s leeching customers from other local barbeque places, and I’m not convinced the quality of her food is higher than some of the other local places she’s going to harm. It’s unfair competition.”

  “You’re saying you feel her place is going to hurt Denver barbeque restaurants?”

  Atticus considered his words for a few seconds before responding. “I’m saying there’s a good chance of that, yes. I’m not saying this because she’s an elf. Regardless of her species, if she had been born and raised in Denver or I thought she was going to relocate to Denver, I wouldn’t mind because I would know that her intention was to build up this city. But she lives in New York.” He made a face. “New York,” he intoned again as if the mere invocation of the city’s name was all the proof he needed of Nadina’s unsuitability as a Denver barbeque restauranteur. “This latest restaurant is just part of an empire for her. How is she going to help Denver?”

  “Her business will be paying taxes,” the reporter suggested. “And some of her staff are locals.”

  “True, but how much money will she donate to local schools? How much attention will she pay to local politics? We need to build up local businesses and community, not let outsiders come in and disrupt us.” Atticus sighed melodramatically, as if he couldn’t believe anyone didn’t see the obvious.

  The reporter gave the other man an incredulous look. “Aren’t you worried about accusations of hypocrisy?”

  Atticus frowned. “What do you mean? I don’t think it’s hypocritical to raise questions about Nadina’s restaurant, and I still feel the HDL protest was inappropriate.”

  “What I’m talking about is the fact that you yourself run a chain and have financial interests in restaurants outside Denver, including several others in Colorado, along with places in Utah and Kansas. In addition, your company recently opened a restaurant in California.”

  Atticus took a deep breath. “That’s a fair response, but it’s not the same thing. The situations are different.”

  James grunted. How the fuck isn’t it the same thing?

  “Oh?” the reporter asked. “Could you clarify that for us?”

  “Of course.” Atticus licked his lips. His mouth twitched, and a hint of anger appeared in his eyes. “My first couple of places were opened here in Denver, and I push local Denver eateries all the time. I’ve located my new places in areas that aren’t being served by existing barbeque places. I would never knowingly harm another barbeque place.”

  The reporter nodded slowly. “The owner of Flaming Volcano Barbeque in Provo might disagree. You opened a place within a half mile of his restaurant, and he’s had to file for bankruptcy.”

  Atticus waved a hand, clear irritation on his face. “The owner there has made several false statements about my business practices. I should note I might be filing a lawsuit against him soon. Predatory pricing? Illegal restraint of trade? I can’t believe he actually accused me of messing with his suppliers. What nonsense! You shouldn’t be spreading his lies.”

  The reporter raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mention any of those charges.”

  Atticus stood. “This interview is over.”

  James turned off the tv. The whole thing was irritating to him. He laid his head on the pillow as he considered the Pig and Cow.

  Atticus claimed he tried to avoid other barbeque territories, but James had actually done that. The closest other pure barbeque place to his had gone out of business a few years after he opened the Pig and Cow, but as far as he knew, that had far more to do with the original owner dying and poor business practices by his son, including spending a lot of his revenue on dust and other drugs.

  James couldn’t be sure. He did get a lot of business from tourists and people way outside the neighborhood. One man came up from San Diego every couple of weeks. James might not be a celebrity chef, but he was still a semi-retired world-famous bounty hunter, and there was no doubt that he had a few advantages most people didn’t when starting a restaurant. It helped that he had managed to stumble into one major incident a year that garnered him some media attention, and that was setting aside everything Alison did to keep the Brownstone name in the news.

  Not every restaurant can survive, and sometimes good food isn’t enough. Is that fair? No, but life isn’t a
lways fair, and if someone has good skills, they can always go work for someone else’s restaurant.

  But at least a place deserves a chance to fail, not to have terrorist assholes threaten them and get them to close.

  James reached over to turn off the light next to the bed. The best food should rise to the top, and he wasn’t going to let terrorists prevent that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next day, James leaned against the wall in a cavernous gym connected to the youth center, his arms folded over his chest. Peals of children’s laughter made him grunt. He might now be looking forward to his own child, but it didn’t mean he was all that comfortable around other children.

  Maybe that shit will come with time, but I doubt it. It’s not like Shay and I are gonna be hanging with the PTA discussing the best way to do fundraisers for the school trip and shit.

  The more James thought about it, the more he had to face the fact that his experiences with Alison hadn’t prepared him for a new child. Besides her age, she’d spent most of her last few teenage years in a boarding school. James felt he had done a good job, but he’d spent a large amount of time training her to be a bounty hunter. Her sense of family loyalty was already firmly established before they had even met.

  James shook his head. None of that had to be a bad thing.

  So God gave me an easy kid the first time. That should mean I’m ready for the greater challenge on round number two.

  A young boy broke away from a group playing tag nearby and scampered over to James, his eyes filled with the hope and innocence only young children could manage. He smiled brightly, revealing several missing front teeth before fishing a crumpled piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket. “Can I have your autograph, Mr. Ghost? Nadina already gave me hers. It’s so fancy.”

  James glanced down at the boy. Apparently, his feeble attempt at a disguise—sunglasses and a Colorado Rockies cap—didn’t help. He had been trying to stay away from the kids, worried that he might scare them.