Mercy: Second Chance Military Romance (83 page)

“I think I’m in the wrong business.”

“I’ve never understood businessmen.” He turned to me. “No offense.”

“None taken. I used to be a painter who smoked a lot of weed. A few years ago, I sold everything I had to open my own dispensary in Fort Collins.”

“I’ve read your story,” he said. “I don’t just work with anyone. My daughter had good things to say about you.”

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“She’s a complicated woman.”

“Aren’t they all?” he asked then laughed.

We both stared out at the marijuana plants in silence a few moments. All the stress of taking my business to the next level and everything else faded away as we relaxed and enjoyed the day.

“I love her,” I said, regretting it as soon as the words came from my mouth.

He didn’t say anything at first, which made me feel even worse.

“I see,” he muttered finally.

I glanced over at him.

“Do you approve?”

He turned to face me. Our eyes met. I studied his wrinkled face for any emotion. Gradually, a smile spread across his face.

“I think you would be good for her.”

Relief washed through my body. With his blessing, I might have a chance.

“What are you two doing out here?” Heidi asked from behind us.

I flinched, almost falling out of the lawn chair.

“Hey,” I said as I stood up. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“He’s here to check on the plants and me,” her father said.

He stared up at her from his lawn chair.

“How are you?” I asked, stoned out of my mind.

“I’m fine. I need to talk with my father.”

“I should get going.”

“Don’t be rude, Heidi,” her father said.

She shot him a dirty look then turned back to me.

“Why do you always have to be so angry?” I asked.

“You’re stoned, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. So? It’s legal.”

“Is that all you do?”

“I’m leaving,” I said, not wanting to get into it with her.

I turned to her father and offered my hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking it. “We’ll talk more soon.”

He winked at me. I turned to Heidi.

“Call me later,” I said.

“Maybe. I’m really busy with work,” she said then sat down next to her father.

“No biggie. Me too.”

I nodded my head at her then walked out front. Keifer started up the SUV as soon as I got in the backseat.

“Where to, boss?”

“Take me home,” I said. “Thanks.”

As he drove down the driveway, I wondered why Heidi was still acting so weird around me. Maybe she was playing me for a sucker? Most women I understood, but she was different. That’s what attracted me to her the most. On the way home, I pushed her out of my mind and concentrated on work.

The Cannabis Cup finals were coming up, and I had to make sure everything was ready after we won. Orders would skyrocket overnight for the new Super Weed, and I wanted to be as prepared as possible. My love for Heidi had to wait, so her playing hard to get might actually help me.

TWENTY-FIVE

Heidi

Internal Pressure

After catching him talking to Dad, I decided to distance myself from Brent Stone again, determined to get the case on him closed. At that point, our relationship wouldn’t come with as many strings attached. He might be the one, but I didn’t want to waste more time with a man committing crimes.

My office phone rang. I glanced over and saw John’s name.

“Hey, John,” I said after answering. “What’s up?”

“I have another hit for that Stone guy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure as sushi not agreeing with my stomach.”

“Can you send an encrypted audio file to my phone again?”

“I already sent it, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. You know, the old fashioned way.”

“Appreciate it, John. I haven’t forgotten your beer. You’re a Bud guy, right?”

“Miller Lite, actually.”

“They’re all the same to me. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Heidi.”

After I hung up the office phone, I picked up my cell and logged into the private file storage area the DEA made available to all agents. I glanced to the left then right. Not seeing anyone nearby, I tapped the file John had sent me.

On the recording, I heard Brent talking with the same unknown man from the cartel. Unlike the other time, he said he would think about working with them.
What the hell? Is he just playing me?
The conversation ended quickly.

I played it again, listening for any hints as to whether or not Brent was actually thinking about working with them.
Should I confront him? Why did I sleep with him?
Questions assaulted my mind as I played the recording a third time.

Before it finished, my office phone rang again. I saw Keller’s name on the LED display.
Crap. What does he want? Should I tell him Brent might be guilty after all?
I picked up the receiver and put it to my ear.

“I need to see you,” Keller said simply then hung up.

“Yes, sir,” I said sarcastically as I set the receiver down.

I stood up and made my way to his office. The whole way, I fought with myself about what I was going to tell him. My growing love for Brent made me see the world differently.

After knocking twice, I opened his office door and walked in.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked.

“Come in and have a seat.”

He didn’t look up from papers he had on the top of his desk. I went over and sat down on one of two armchairs. Finally, he looked up at me with a blank expression on his face.

“What’s the status on Brent Stone?”

“Still looking,” I said, deciding at the last moment not to tell him everything. “I have a new lead I’m chasing down, though.”

“If you’re not up to the job…”

“I got this,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m just making sure I do everything by the books. We don’t want him getting off at the last minute due to a technicality. I mean, if he’s guilty.”

“You still don’t think he is?”

“I don’t think so, but like I said, I have a new lead I’m chasing down.”

“You need to get moving on this. You’re taking too long.”

“Do you want me to make something up?”

“I want you to do what needs to be done. If you can’t, I don’t want you working for me. Understood?”

It took everything I had to fight showing any shock on my face.

Why is Keller going after Brent so hard? Does he really want me to frame him?

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“That’s all,” he growled then added, “For now.”

I stood up and spun around.

“And make it quick,” he said as I walked to the door.

Fuck. My. Life.

TWENTY-SIX

Heidi

Some Good News

After finding out Brent might be guilty and getting chewed out by my boss, I headed to Dad’s house to check in on him. Cancer terrified me. He’d been going to all his appointments, but I still got nervous, not wanting to lose him, not for a long time.

I parked in my usual spot then walked toward the front porch. The setting sun cast crazy shadows on the porch thanks to the wooden railing surrounding it. At the front door, I knocked twice before opening the door. I’d caught him kissing a lady friend one night and never wanted to repeat the experience.

“Dad? You in here?” I called out as I walked into the living room.

“In here.”

In the kitchen, I saw him standing next to the counter chopping a carrot.

“You making stew?”

“I am. You’re early by a few days. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“It’s been a rough day,” I said, taking a seat at the table. “How are you?”

He flashed me a smile.

“The cancer is gone.”

“Seriously? That’s great.”

I stood up and walked over to him. He hugged me tightly.

“That was so quick.”

“When you have someone paying big money, they take care of you with all the latest treatments and procedures.”

“Brent paid for it, didn’t he?”

“Let’s not talk about money, okay? I can make you a sandwich. Are you hungry?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Okay, what’s wrong? You never pass up one of my submarine sandwiches.”

I smiled, not wanting to talk with him about Brent.

“It’s just work.”

“And Brent? What about him? Have you told him the truth yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

He frowned and shook his head, shaming me.

“I will, but I think he might be working with the cartels.”

“Do you really think he would work with them? I’ve only talked to him a few times, but he doesn’t seem like that type of person.”

“I don’t think so either, but my boss at work is pressuring me to find something. Maybe they know something I don’t know yet.”

“I told you never to trust the DEA. You had to have that job to make me mad.”

“I didn’t take the job to make you mad, Dad. I did it for me. Why can’t you understand that?”

I stood up, ready to leave.

“Calm down. I’m just saying I don’t trust them. You know I support you one hundred percent no matter what.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s Brent.”

“What about him?”

“I think I have feelings for him.”

He stared at me, his mothering side suddenly coming back.

“He’s a good man.”

“I know. At least I think I know. I’m not sure any more.”

“You need to follow your heart,” he said.

“Thanks, Dad. I should go. I’m so happy you caught the cancer early.”

Never too old to hug my father, I stepped over and put my hands around him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, patting my back with his hand.

He always made me feel better. As I drove home that night, I thought about Brent and what to do with the new information. Should I confront him? Or dig into it more before saying anything?

Before I got to my house, my phone rang. I saw his name and face and picked it up.

“Hey, Brent. I was just thinking about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Mostly good. What’s up?”

“I need to see you,” he said.

“Yeah, we should talk. I’ll send you the address to my house.”

“I’ve been to your apartment before.”

“No. I said my house. It’s different. I’ll explain when you get here. I have to go. Bye.”

I ended the call before he had a chance to ask me any questions. After pulling over to the side of the road, I sent him a text message with my actual address. He deserved to know the truth.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Brent

Fighting Words

I pulled up to a two-story brick home in a nice neighborhood north of the city and parked in the blacktop driveway. Before getting out, I stared at the house, wondering if it was just another lie from her.

Unable to wait any longer, she would tell me the truth or not be part of my life at all. I opened the door and got out. At the porch, I knocked on her ornate screen door.

She’s doing well for herself
, I thought as the door opened.

When I saw her beautiful face, I almost decided to not confront her.

“Hey,” she said. “Come in.”

She stepped aside, and I walked into a small foyer. A wooden table with a print copy of the local newspaper and a bowl with keys and change sat to the left.

“I need to ask you something,” I said.

“Let’s sit down and have a drink. I need to ask you something too.”

“Fine,” I said.

“Red wine okay? It’s all I have.”

“That’s fine.”

I followed her into an expansive open-kitchen. She stopped at a marble topped island and opened a bottle of wine. As I sat down on one of the bar stools, she poured us each a glass.