Fool's Gold (A sexy funny mystery/romance, Cottonmouth Book 2) by Jennifer Skully Page A

man’s a fucking asshole.” Carl’s voice
was a low-pitched growl.
    Brax didn’t know Carl well. He could count on
one hand the number of times he’d met the guy face-to-face. So his
experience was limited. Still, he’d never heard Carl use that
particular word. Not even last night, when it was a guys-only
outing.
    “Why’s he piss you off so much?”
    “It’s that fucking hotel.”
    O-kay . The road wasn’t heavily
traveled and the closest headlights were far in the distance. Carl
was on the edge about the whole business. Why? People didn’t want
the hotel, but Carl’s reaction was way beyond simply not wanting
the renovation.
    He put on his best-buddy routine to ferret
out the answer. “I agree he’s a dick of the first order, but ya had
me a bit unnerved in there. I mean, I’d hate to have to tell Mom
you have homicidal tendencies.” He decided a little levity would
ease the tension while at the same time impress upon Carl that his
uncharacteristic behavior was bordering on bizarre.
    Carl snorted with what Brax hoped was a
chuckle. “She’d drag Maggie off to Divorce Court if she
heard me use the F -word.”
    His mother loved that judge on Divorce
Court . “Up to this point, she’s been quite fond of you, Carl.”
He threw that in, though it wasn’t the truth. “But you’re pushing
it, pal.”
    Carl glanced at him. “Let’s keep it between
us, okay? Your mother scares the crap out of me. Last time she got
mad at me, she gave me the look. I was afraid for my life.”
    Ah, that look. The infamous look from
Brax’s childhood emphatically stating, If you do that one more
time, I will be forced to scream. And then I’ll tell your
father . There’d always been hell to pay when his mother got
that look.
    Enid Braxton treated nothing lightly,
especially not a potty mouth , as his mother called it. Brax
could still taste the soap at odd moments. “I don’t know, Carl, it
was a dual F -word. That’s pretty serious.”
    “What do I gotta do to get you to keep it a
secret?”
    “Tell me what’s going on here, and I won’t
rat you out to Mom.”
    Carl was silent.
    “That crap going down wasn’t like you.” At
least Maggie had never complained of a temper.
    Still no answer. With a quick glance, Brax
found him staring out the windshield, a crooked smile on his lips,
the headlights of the oncoming car glinting in what Brax was
terrified might be moisture. It was the saddest damn thing he’d
ever seen. What was he supposed to do if Carl actually cried?
    “She still loves you, man.” He had to say
something.
    Carl didn’t remark on it. Instead, he
returned to Brax’s original question. “Lafoote knows how to push a
man’s buttons. Can’t say I’ve figured out how he does it, but he
knows what to say to set a man off.”
    “What’s he got against you?”
    Carl sighed, quirked his lips, and shook his
head, as if the actions explained it all. “It’s the hotel. Nobody
wants it, and he won’t take no for an answer.”
    There was more to it than that, but Carl
wasn’t gonna spill without some manipulation. “So you were gonna
rip his throat out over some hotel project?”
    “He’s an asshole.”
    “You said that already, Carl.”
    “Is asshole okay with your
mother?”
    “ Ass is fine if you drop the hole . It’s in the Bible.” Brax allowed a moment of silence
without pressing for an answer.
    Finally, Carl shifted in his seat. “He thinks
I put Della up to stalling him on the permits and licenses he
needs.”
    “Della?”
    “Della Montrose. She’s the county judge and
the city mayor.”
    “And did you put her up to it?”
    “She was as against it as I was.”
    “You know, Carl, I don’t really get the whole
problem. A resort would create jobs and bring income to the city
and county.” Hell, maybe they could even afford to pave some of the
roads.
    Carl turned and looked at Brax fully. “Would
you want a bunch of gamblers, drunks, and whores moving