Mercy: Second Chance Military Romance (73 page)

“I’m serious. The cartels would kill for a marijuana super plant.”

“You know I don’t deal with them or anyone else,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I sell to a select few medical dispensaries across the state. I’m all above board.”

“I know, I’m just saying. Be careful. I don’t want to lose you too.”

A frown formed on his face at the mention of my mother, his wife.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted. “I just need to keep busy. I’d love to talk, but I have some plants in back that need my attention.”

“I’m leaving, but I wanted to ask if you’d heard anything about other DEA agents recently.”

“No. Why?”

“It’s nothing,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be over this weekend for pizza and a beer.”

“The highlight of my week,” he said.

“Well, except for your plants.”

“I love you more than them.”

I stepped forward and hugged him again.

“Take care of yourself, Dad.”

“You too,” he said as I walked out of the greenhouse.

On the way back to my car, I began to wonder why Keller had me investigating Brent Stone if we had a DEA agent in our department that had gone rogue. Nothing made any sense.

SEVEN

Brent

How’s the Article Coming?

Another night, another party. For some reason, I found it difficult to get into chasing the women who invariably showed up to the bashes at the mansion I’d bought for the sole reason of having parties. A woman with a bikini bottom but no top strolled by while laughing.

I smiled at her, unable to get excited about another meaningless fuck. Ever since I’d pulled Heidi’s head into my lap when we were attacked by the cartels on the road, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. The idea of getting her into my bedroom again turned me on.

“Hey,” Keifer said, walking up and patting my shoulder with his hand. “You’re not partying.”

“Yeah, I’m not in the mood,” I said.

“Please tell me you’re not thinking about that reporter chick again.”

“The beautiful one with curly red hair and pert, young breasts? That one? Nah, I’ve not been thinking about her.”

He laughed.

“Invite her over.”

“I might. I’m playing it cool.”

“When’s the article supposed to come out?”

“She hasn’t told me yet,” I said.

Two more topless women passed.

“That’s my cue to go,” Keifer said. “Keep both your heads up.”

I nodded my head at him then watched as he followed after the two topless women. They were fine, but I’d fucked plenty like them over the years. While it always started out good, it ended up with them clinging and asking me to fix their lives with money. Fuck that shit.

Not into the party scene that night, I headed upstairs to my master bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I went out onto the balcony, sat down and lit up. As I took a hit, I looked down at the tattoo on my chest, the year of my birth, 1983, and a pot leaf.

If I’d been born ten years earlier or ten years later, I’d never have been able to build up a legal weed empire so quickly. Thanks to the luck of the stars – or something – I’d come into the world at the perfect time. That or I’d just been good at spotting a trend and jumping on it.

Another hit, another thought. By my third one, my mind was in another place. As the pot king of Colorado, I had access to the strongest oils, waxes and dabs, but I liked smoking regular herb in a special vaporizer pen. Something about the taste made me happy.

Heidi popped back into my mind as I set the vaporizer down on the glass table next to me. I pulled my phone out of my shorts pocket and tapped the screen to find her name in my address book. After pressing send call, I put the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” she answered quietly.

“Hey, it’s Brent.”

“Hi, Brent. Most of my interview subjects don’t call me back this often or this late. Everything okay? You going to come clean about Stone not being your last name?”

I chuckled.

“No, I was thinking about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I meant the article. When’s the article coming out?”

“It’s up to my editor,” she said.

“Oh, okay. You said that already, didn’t you?”

“I did,” she said.

“I’m having another party tonight. You want to come over and talk?”

“We can talk on the phone,” she said. “I’m not going back out tonight.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“No, I’ve got my PJs on, and I’m in for the night.”

“You’re going to have me breathing heavy if you keep describing what you have on.”

“Okay, you wanted one of those kind of non-conversations. I should go.”

“No, we can talk. You’re so hot, is all.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re talking on the phone then.”

“Seriously. You should be a model. You’re too cute to be a journalist?”

“Who says I’m not a model in my spare time.”

I smiled. “Funny.”

“How is your party going? Shouldn’t you be playing host?”

“I’m on my balcony watching again.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“It’s been a long day,” I said, not sure why I was opening up to her.

Something about her voice made me want to trust her with all my secrets.

“You’re not stoned and relaxing?”

“Oh, I’m stoned, but I still have a million thoughts going through my mind. I need to find a new grower if I’m going to keep ahead of the rest of the market.”

“Growers aren’t hard to find in Colorado.”

“No, but I need someone special. I’ve heard of a super grower, but I’ve not been able to find out where he’s working these days.” She didn’t say anything. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s getting late, and I’m tired. I’ve had a hard day at work too.”

“Sitting in a chair and typing words got you worn out, huh?”

“Yeah, something like that. It’s more of a mental exhaustion.”

“You should let me give you some free samples of our edibles.”

“No thank you.”

“Where are you right now?” I asked, changing the subject back to her.

“I’m in my bedroom, actually.”

“Nice. House or apartment?”

“Who’s asking all the questions now?” she teased.

I smiled again. “Maybe I’m a journalist in my spare time.”

“Everyone thinks they’re a journalist on the internet.”

“Tell me about it. You ever search for my name online?”

“Of course,” she said then quickly added. “For my article.”

“Well, did you see all the garbage people talk about me? It’s crazy. Before I had money, nobody cared less. Now, everyone wants to see me destroyed or become my friend. It’s maddening.”

“Sounds bad,” she said.

“You have a very soothing voice.”

“Don’t go back to the phone sex conversation.”

“I’d love to, but I respect you. I’m serious, though. You should do radio or television journalism.”

“Yeah,” she said then took a deep breath. “Look, Brent. I appreciate the call. You have a nice voice too, but I need to go. I have a full day tomorrow.”

“Send me your address,” I said suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

“I want to send you something.”

“No thanks.”

“Come on, it’s not like I’m a stalker or something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Once you have a few million dollars, you end up spending most of your time turning women away.”

“I bet,” she said. “Anyway, I can’t accept a gift from you if I’m writing an article about you.”

“True. A shame, but true.”

“Goodnight, Brent. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’ll be waiting. Goodnight.”

I ended the call and set the phone down. As I interlaced my fingers behind my head and looked out at the partiers below, I thought about Heidi. Complex women like her intrigued me. She was hiding something from me. I became determined to find out at least a couple of her secrets.

EIGHT

Brent

Born to Be Wild

While I didn’t need an excuse to go and see Heidi, I thought she might find it funny if I brought her my birth certificate to prove Stone was actually my surname. My real plan was to get her to trust me enough to invite me over to her place. Seeing her house or apartment would tell me a lot about her.

I called her up, hoping she answered and wasn’t busy.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Heidi. It’s Brent.”

“Yeah, I saw your name on the phone.”

“Ah, so I’m important enough to be in your contact list.”

“I guess. What’s up?”

“Well, I have a surprise for you. If you’re off work, I figured I would stop by and give it to you. Do you have normal working hours as a journalist?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s not really a good time.”

“Come on. I’ll make it worth your while.”

She paused. I waited to clinch the deal.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll meet you somewhere.”

“Nope. This is something you need to see where you live.”

“You’re pushy.”

“The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

“Okay. I’ll text you the address. But you can’t stay long. Give me half an hour.”

“Sure,” I said with a smile on my face. “See you soon.”

I ended the call before she changed her mind. With at least half-an-hour to kill, I had Keifer drive me to the warehouse to the grow operation.

When he pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a dust-covered black Suburban near the entrance.

“Who’s that?” I asked from the back seat of the stretch SUV.

“I have no idea, but I’m about to find out.”

He parked then opened the door and hopped out. I watched through the side window as he approached the other SUV. Three men in suits got out.

Fuck
, I thought.
Another robbery?

I reached under the seat and grabbed the Mossberger shotgun just in case a gunfight erupted. While I was protected by bullet proof glass and metal shielding, I wasn’t about to let Keifer get torn down in front of me while I watched.

The three men surrounded him. I got out, pumped the shotgun to get their attention and walked over. Keifer stepped back toward me.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Everything okay?”

“We’re from the DEA, Mr. Stone.”

“I’m following all the state laws,” I said. “Are you seriously going to bust me?”

“No, no,” the lead man said, stepping forward and offering his hand. “We’re here to talk.”

I shook his hand. Weak-ass grip like most government men.

“Talk about what?” I asked, resting the shotgun on my shoulder.

“Our boss wants to have a discussion with you.”

“About what?”

“That’s for him to say.”

“Who’s him?”

“Again, that’s for him to say.”

“You’re not giving me a lot of information to work with,” I said, tilting my head back. “What’s this really about?”

“It’s not bad, Mr. Stone. Take this number.” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a business card. “Call him soon. It will be worth the trouble.”

I took the card and stuffed it into my back jeans pocket without looking at it.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“No, sir. Call him.”

As they walked back to their Suburban and piled in, I stepped over to Keifer.

“What did they tell you?” I asked.

“About the same as what they told you.”

“Fucking weird,” I said as the SUV pulled away.

My phone buzzed. I looked down and saw an address near downtown Denver with the message, “Be there at six.”

“Let’s make this quick,” I said. “Then I need to go downtown.”

He nodded, not questioning me at all.

* * *

An hour later, Keifer parked on the street in front of her apartment building.

“You sure you want to be messing with a woman who lives in a place like this?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. Wait out here for a bit, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss man. Not like I had plans.”