He dialed random numbers. Four, two, three.
“Wait!” Dexter said.
Good boy.
Reid tucked his phone away, flapped the package in front of Dexter. “What is this? And if I think you're lying, I'm calling the cops and telling them you're out on bail and then I'm pointing them to that sock drawer. That, douchebag, is enough for a warrant to search this whole goddamn place. Then you're fucked. Start talking.”
The kid's head dropped forward, his shoulders slumping with the movement.
Come on, come on.
Behind Reid, he sensed Britt moving and held his hand up. If instincts served, old Dexter was about to make a smart move for probably the first time in his life.
“It's weed,” he said.
“Weed?”
“Yeah. I sell it.”
Which meant what in regard to Nelson? Middleman? “Where do you get the stuff?”
“I don't know. I get it from my buddy. He's a gang member. I sell what I can and he gives me a cut.”
“You in the gang?”
“Not yet. I was supposed to get that phone. They think your girl has it.”
“What's on the phone?”
“I don't know.”
“But they think it has something to do with this weed?”
The kid shrugged. “Yeah. They sell the weed to shops. Convenience stores and shit. They say it's potpourri, but the shop owners all know what it is. They keep it behind the counter and wait for customers to ask for it. I figured your girl was selling the stuff. All I know is my buddy told me to go to her place and find a phone. Told me to grab any I found.”
What the fuck?
Reid whirled back to Britt and their gazes locked. Brynne had given him some of that goddamned potpourri to give to his mother. His mother. Based on the quantity she'd given him, it couldn't have been pot.
But this other stuff in the packets with Nelson's logo made him wonder what Brynne knew. Despite her denials, did she know, or at least suspect, Nelson was somehow involved with selling weed?
No.
Couldn't have.
Could she?
Britt snagged the truck keys from Reid. “I'm driving.”
“Whatever.”
Right now, he didn't care. He needed to call Mags and clue her in on Dexter's little stash.
Ten minutes later, being the good soldier he was, he'd alerted Mags to the Dexter situation, got a ration of shit for their efforts, and in the end, a thank-you from their more-than-slightly pissed-off cousin, who called the local PD and had Dexter hauled in again.
They'd gone rogue, again, but at least they'd provided usable intel.
“So,” Britt said, pulling away from Dexter's house. “What are we thinking about all this? What's with the weed?”
As they passed an older man—probably Dexter's uncle—hoofing it down the sidewalk, Reid slipped one of the foil packs out of his front pocket and held it up.
“Shit, Reid. You took one?”
He sure did. “Time to see if our little Brynnie has seen them before. The crap she gave me was in a bigger, clear bag. Way more than this. No one gives away that much weed.”
Britt shook his head. “This is nuts.”
“Yep. It appears Nelson was growing weed, or was at least involved in the packaging of it. Then they sold it as potpourri.”
“You think Brynne knows?”
“Big brother, we're about to find out.”
18
When Jules called about a missing payment for a vendor, Brynne decided to hitch a ride into town with Jonah and Evie. One thing she didn't need now was an accounting mix-up that might send her into collections.
She pushed through the front door and found Jules and Val, her other part-timer, straightening some T-shirts on the front display table. “Hi, Jules.”
“Hi,” Jules said. “Wow, look at you all casual.”
Brynne held her arms wide and did a little spin to show off her jeans and V-neck graphic T-shirt with the hammered metal around the sleeves. “Yep, decided days off entitled me to dress down.”
“I like it. And I love your hair back like that. It really shows off your eyes.”
The other big change. A ponytail and only a half-ton of makeup versus the full ton.
“Anyway,” Jules said. “Sorry to bug you on your day off, but the sales rep called and said accounting is bugging him about the payment for our last order.”
“No. It's fine. You know I'm a freak about this stuff. I appreciate you calling. I'll see if I can get a copy of the canceled check and send it to them.”
“Also, Reid called a few minutes ago. He said his mom told him you were here.”
Reid? She checked her cell phone. Three missed calls. Damned mountain screwing with the cell signal. “Shoot. I missed his calls.”
An incoming text buzzed her phone. Reid again. Where the eff r u?
Alrighty then. Was he being funny or rude? Hard to tell via text.
Just got to shop. Where the eff r u?
Let him respond to that, because good old nice Brynne wasn't about to put up with any nonsense from a pushy male. Been there done that.
Jules picked up another T-shirt and refolded it. “He said he'd be down at the Triple B. He seemed kinda mad.”
“Mad? About what?”
“Don't know. I told him if I saw you, I'd send you down there. But if you don't want to see him, we can pretend I didn't see you.” Jules held up her fist. “Girl code.”
At that, Brynne smiled.
Her posse.
The shop door swung open and Reid pushed through, his jaw set, his big shoulders back, muscles bulging and—bam—he stole her breath. Just left her with no air.
My man.
He stopped moving, slowly turned, and his laser-sharp focus landed on Jules.
She threw her hands up. “Hey, she just walked in.”
He strode toward them, grabbed Brynne by the elbow, and ushered her back to her storage room. Fierce energy flew off of him, charging the air, and something inside of Brynne went haywire. A weird mix of tension gripped her shoulders. Please don't let him do anything stupid.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
For a second, all that charged energy Reid brought with him went still. Just…nothing, and Brynne's pulse hammered.
Clearly, he was upset—with her—and her newfound confidence began to crumble.
No way. She couldn't let that happen. Not again. Whatever Reid's problem was, he wouldn't make it her issue.
She shook him off and followed him into the storage room where he stood sandwiched between two shelves.
“Time to be straight with me. Do you have any of that nasty-ass weed in here?”
* * *
Screw this. Brynne stood in front of him, her face stretched in an almost comical look of horror. He'd asked her a simple question. If she didn't have any weed in here, the answer would be a simple no. Anything beyond that was a stall tactic.
“Excuse me? You say 'time to be straight' with you like I haven't been. What the heck are you talking about?”
Yep. Not good.
He'd get the answer for himself. He swung right, pulled one of the boxes from the shelf and rifled through it.
An invasion of her privacy? Totally.
Did he care?
Not a lick.
He needed answers. And even if she didn't know Nelson was selling weed, if he'd left her a stash of it, Reid would find it in one of these boxes.
Damn. After a stupendous start—pure perfection—of doing wicked things to Brynne, this day had gone to shit. First the weed and now her stalling when he'd asked her a question. Goddammit, he needed answers.
And his knee was fucking killing him. He'd had a good couple of days without major trouble and now? Throbbing. Go figure.
“Reid!” she said. “That's my inventory. What the hell are you doing?”
He shoved the box of socks back onto the shelf and turned to face an owl-eyed Brynne.
<
br /> Reid dug out the weed he'd swiped from Dexter and held it up. “Looking for these.”
He handed her the package, let her study the logo on the front.
“Potpourri,” she said. “Did Nelson make this?”
“Since that's the logo we found, I'm assuming he did.” He turned back to the shelf, started in on another box. More socks. How many fucking socks could the woman sell? “It's not potpourri.”
“Then what is it?”
He slammed the box back to the shelf. “Weed, Brynne. It's weed. Pot. That your good friend was packaging and selling.”
Now she looked up at him again, her mouth plummeting open as her face flooded with color. “What are you talking about?”
“I found Dexter this morning. Britt was with me. He told us the whole thing. The phone your intruders are looking for has something they want on it.”
“But we gave the phone to Maggie.”
“Well, sweet cheeks, I don't know what to tell you. Maybe there's a second phone, but right now I'm making sure you don't have any of this crap in your storage room.”
“Sweet cheeks? Who do you think you are, talking to me like that? Have you lost your damned mind? And really? You think I knew about that? That I'd sell it through my shop?”
No.
Not entirely.
But the questions ricocheting around his brain blew a hole in his filter. Just tore that sucker up. “You two were pretty damned close. Maybe you didn't want to see what was right in front of your face?”
He went to the next shelf up, grabbed one of the clear plastic storage bins. Hair clips or some such shit.
“Reid, you can't be serious. After what we've been through these past few days, you think I'm lying about Nelson?”
“How do I know?”
“Because, idiot, I've been telling you I didn't know anything odd about Nelson. Are you even listening to me? Probably not. Why should you? Not when you can just take charge and do whatever you feel like. If you're not a Green Beret, you're not happy, right?”
Oh, now that was a direct hit.
“Hey,” he turned to face her. “You gotta admit, this all seems a bit convenient.”
“Oh my God.” She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
He shoved the bin back and faced her. “What?”
“I'm not doing this with you. Until you're ready to listen to me, get out. You come in here, start searching my things without my permission, which makes you no better than those creeps that came in here, and then you expect to interrogate me? Not on your life. Out!”
Jonah appeared at the doorway. “Uh, guys? Everything okay? You're freaking the customers out.”
Brynne spun on her for-once reasonably sized heel. “Everything is fine, Jonah. But I've asked your brother to leave. Please get him out of here.”
* * *
Brynne left the shop. Just walked right out the back door up to her apartment. Jules and Val could handle it and, well, if she stood in Reid's presence another second she might have to kill him. Just make him a bloody stump.
What the hell was wrong with her, constantly gravitating to the wrong men?
She pounded on her head with both palms. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
Forget him.
For now, anyway.
She unlocked her apartment door, tossed her keys and purse on the counter, marched straight to the living room, and looked out the front window. On the sidewalk, right in front of her shop, stood Reid and Jonah.
The damned man was everywhere.
Of course, he'd planted his feet, folded his massive arms, and thrown his shoulders back. Ready for battle. That was him.
Always.
Damn him.
At least his big mouth wasn't moving. For once, Jonah was doing most of the talking.
She pivoted and stalked the tiny living room, all that fierce anger burning just below her skin. She reached the far wall and stalked in the other direction. Oooohhh, she needed to hit something.
She picked up a sofa cushion, slammed it to the ground, let out a few grunts. She couldn't even scream or the big ape in front of her building would come running and then she might really have to kill him.
Grabbing a second pillow, she sent it flying. This time against the corner of the bare wall.
“Brynne!”
She spun back, found Evie standing behind her. Terrific. After everything she'd been through, she forgot to lock the door. Another thing she should have learned—along with how to ignore men—by now. “Your brother is an asshole!”
Evie threw her hands up. “Hop off! He's a lot of things, but he's not an asshole. What happened? Did you two fight?”
“His mouth! That's what happened.”
“Oh. Well.” Evie's eyebrows lifted. “Yeah. That's usually a problem.”
“He thinks Nelson was selling pot and I helped.”
“Um, why? “
Brynne picked up another pillow, let it fly. “He found the guy who broke in here and that's what he told him. That Nelson's potpourri business was really for selling pot.” She flapped her arms. “I don't know. But Reid had a package of weed with that damned logo—Nelson's logo—on it.”
“Wow.”
Ha. Wow. Yeah. Good one.
“Do you think…” Evie scrunched her face. “Could Nelson have been selling drugs?”
And, oh, this was unbelievable. All of it. Because now, standing here putting all the pieces together, she didn't know.
She looked down at the pillows, squatted, and picked one up, hugging it to her chest. The last days had drained her, sucked every working brain cell dry. “Evie, at this point, anything is possible.”
And if Reid was right? God help her, she'd never hear the end of it.
One way to find out.
She pushed by Evie into the kitchen, scooped up her purse and keys, and headed for the door. “You have to leave.”
“Why?”
“I'm going out and I need to lock up.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Nelson's.”
Evie's jaw dropped. “Why?”
“Because I have a key and I'm going to search every inch of his stuff. If he's been selling pot, there has to be some evidence of it.”
She stood on the porch, waved Evie out. “Move it, girl. Get out.”
“You can't go by yourself. Reid will have a fit.”
“I don't care.” She hustled down the stairs. “I swear, Evie, if he was in front of me right now, I'd strangle him.”
“I totally get that. Still, you can't go by yourself.”
“I'll be fine. I'm so mad right now, if anyone tries to bother me, I'll tear him apart. Maybe I'll call Maggie. Have her come with me.”
It would be the smart thing. For sure. But Brynne needed answers. For herself. For the memory of her friend. If Nelson had been dealing drugs, she needed to know first. To absorb it and process the fact that another man, one she'd known most of her life, had duped her. Horribly.
Men.
How could one woman be so colossally bad at picking them?
“I'll come with you,” Evie said. “For moral support. Besides, if two of us search, it'll go faster. And you won't be alone.”
Evie breezed by her, waited for Brynne to lock up. She shouldn't involve Evie. Not any more than she had already.
“Evie, I love you, but stay out of it.”
“No. You're my friend. This is what friends do. Now shut up about it.”
Huh. These Steeles. Every one of them was obstinate.
“Safety in numbers, Brynne. That's all I'm saying.”
Good point.
At the bottom of the stairs, Brynne swung back. “Are you sure you want to do this? Your brother will go insane. I don't care if he screams at me, but he's your brother. He's in your life forever.”
Forever.
Which meant…no. Not going there. She refused to acknowledge the twinge in her chest. The implication that Evie was stuck with him while Brynne wasn't.
>
Evie waved that off. “Pfft. I'm not afraid of him. Let's do this. Maybe we'll find something important.”
* * *
Reid stood on the sidewalk, arms folded in a piss-poor attempt not to put hands on his baby brother.
“Dude,” Jonah said, “you've got to chill.”
Chill? The guy whose biggest problem was dreaming up video games, wanted him to chill?
“Jonah, are you out of your freaking mind?”
An older woman window-shopping and holding the hand of a toddler shot him a look. “Pardon me!”
Great. Now he was offending random tourists. “Sorry, ma'am.” He waited for the woman to pass, then went back to the billionaire. “We've got two murders and one of the dead guys could be dealing drugs. In our town! If ever there was a time not to chill, it'd be now.”
“You're gonna tell me you're all jacked up because of the two murders and not Brynne?”
Hell, yes, he was pissed about Brynne. About the fact that she could be a scheming witch—crap on a cracker, he didn't want to believe that—who'd totally played him into thinking she was innocent in this whole thing. After all, she'd been right there in the middle when all this had gone down. The shooting, giving him the potpourri—which, hey, could be weed. He'd have to check that. Then there were the thugs searching her shop, and Dexter.
Yep. Brynne. Right smack in the middle.
“Of course it's about Brynne, jackass. Things aren't adding up and I'm pissed. Sue me.”
“Maybe if you didn't act like an animal and tear up her stockroom, she'd have been more open to conversation.”
Oh, Mr. Fucking Brilliant.
Reid did his best to puff up his chest and get in Jonah's grill, moving into his personal space, staring down at him since he had a mere inch on his baby brother. “You about done playing shrink?”
Jonah shoved a finger into his chest and pushed, knocking him back a step. “Calling it like I see it, bro. Get your shit together.” He pointed at the shop's door. “Get your ass in there and talk to her like you’re human. Apologize for tearing through her stuff and, for once in your goddamned stubborn life, listen.”
Living Fast: Steele Ridge Series Page 24