Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“I just don’t get it,” I mumble through my sobs. “Without a crop, we won’t have any money. What are they going to sell, if not my plants?”
Braden is silent, and I look up into his handsome features. They’re stern, but there’s also a softness in his gaze as he takes me in.
“Sweetheart, Jim and Robbie aren’t who you think they are—”
“Yes, I know,” I say in whisper tinged with bitterness. “I just wish I’d known earlier.”
Braden’s big hand strokes circles on my back as he grows contemplative.
“I know you know,” he begins slowly. “But I think there’s even more that you don’t know than you think.”
I wipe angrily at my nose, undone by all the bullshit and lies.
“Okay, so what is it then?” I demand before immediately softening my tone. “I’m sorry, Braden. I know it’s not you. It’s them. I just feel so betrayed, and it’s really—ugh!”
“I get it,” he speaks in a deep voice. “But your father and your brother have been keeping you in the dark, and the real story is pretty crazy. Your dad and your brother don’t sell pot. Well, rather they do. But the pot is actually just a front for their meth operation.”
I go totally still, staring at the handsome lumberjack.
“What?”
He shrugs.
“Treadwell Cannabis is legit. They didn’t lie to you about having all the right licenses, and being straight with the state. There’s nothing illegal about your business. But Rob and Jim have also been using Treadwell Cannabis as a front for their true criminal enterprise, which is meth. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you guys don’t make enough from cannabis sales to live. It was just a decoy.”
I stare at him.
“Are you serious?” I whisper.
Braden’s expression is apologetic, but he gives it to me straight.
“Unfortunately, yes. Your brother and father cook meth, Grace, and they sell it on the side. It’s not an overly large operation, but it’s significant, and it’s the meth that actually funds their lifestyle. I’m so sorry to tell you this. It must be devastating.”
The knowledge is like a stab to the heart because something has felt wrong all the time I’ve been up on the mountain. Robbie and Jim were always blasé about my farming techniques, and never seemed to care whether our crop lived or died. They always smelled weird too, and had hazmat suits at the house which they said were for marijuana packaging. But the thing is that pot’s not lethal, but meth can be ... and now, I know what they were hiding.
10
Braden
Ifeel terrible for my beautiful girl. Gracie looks more than hurt. She looks utterly shaken, like her whole world has been turned upside down.
“Did you suspect?” I growl, taking in the curvy girl’s stunned features. “Was there anything that gave it away?”
She shakes her head at first, but then nods.
“I’ve wondered about my family’s finances over the years,” she confesses in a low tone. “We don’t have much. I mean, I’m just one person minding the fields, and you saw the operation. I don’t have farming tools, or even machinery! The crops are exposed during all seasons, and we had a bad harvest come in about two years ago. But neither Jim nor Robbie seemed nervous. They acted like nothing was wrong and this must be why.”
“Yes, it’s because of the meth,” I growl, brows lowered. “Chief Roscoe suspected your family was cooking, but Fairview PD was never able come up with any concrete evidence. They never found where Rob and Jim manufactured the shit until just recently, after we rescued you. They finally forced the location out of your brother in the interrogation room. It’s way out in a trailer in the woods. No one could have found it because it was so well-hidden.”
Grace shakes her head, tears rising in her eyes again.
“Robbie and Jim are meth dealers,” she whispers. “My brother and dad literally manufacture and sell illegal drugs.”
I pause because the one-two punch is coming.
“And your family uses too,” I say in a low tone, trying to let her down slow. “Rob and Jim look like shit because they’re indulging in their own product. You saw them: the sores, the gaunt faces, the stench that surrounds them. Those are the ravages of meth use. You don’t get like that from smoking pot.”
Gracie is completely still, her lower lip trembling.
“You’re right,” she whispers. “No one gets that strung out from 420. Especially not from my pot because my varietals just aren’t that powerful. It’s definitely meth. But I still don’t get it. Why did they blow up my cabin? Why did they burn my fields? They didn’t have to torch what we had if it was legit!”
I take a deep breath because this isn’t just a one-two punch. This is a knock-out blow that’s going to break Gracie’s heart.
“Sweetheart, Jim and Rob could feel the cops drawing close. The Fairview PD isn’t going to let a meth lab go, no matter how small. So your father and brother were looking to pin the blame on you. They staged your cabin like a meth lab before blowing it up, and burning the surrounding areas. They were going to claim that you were the meth dealer, operating illegally from a hidden location halfway up the mountain. You were going to go to jail, and take the fall for them.”