“Find anything?”
“No.”
“If Jo doesn’t know anything, ask if she will let you look through Lyle’s room.”
“I’ll try. Probably won’t be anything left once the police are done.”
Tate shrugged. “They might miss something.”
Greer stood. “It’s gonna get busy, so be careful and stay inside. The police aren’t the only ones who might be searching for you.”
“Leave me your gun. Whoever knocked me out took my shotgun. I stashed the one they used to shoot Lyle in our hole. When it gets dark, get it and give it to Cash. Maybe he can figure out who it’s registered to.”
“Will do. The only good part of this mess is that we had already cleared the land and stashed the product.”
“Do you think whoever did this could have been searching for your weed?” Sutton asked the two men.
“Could be, but they’ll never find it,” Greer snickered. “It’s probably the best batch we’ve grown. They would have smoked it up before turning it in to evidence.”
“I doubt that.”
“Don’t. It’s some of the best. Most of what’s been grown lately is shit. The growers are trying to develop strong product for better buzz. Instead, they’re making it weaker. Others are selling that synthetic shit that’ll make you crazy as fuck. Ours is the best out there right now. I don’t care what state you live in. Tate is the best grower around,” Greer bragged.
Sutton was curious despite herself. “If Tate is the grower, what do you do?”
“I protect the fields then sell it when it’s done. Anyone who comes near our fields is either going to be left a cripple or dead.” He gave her a sinister grin, which ran chills down her back. She didn’t doubt his words.
“What’s Dustin’s job?”
Greer’s eyes narrowed on her. “You a Fed?” he asked suspiciously.
“If I were, would I let Tate hide out at my house?”
“You tell me.”
Sutton rolled her eyes at Greer. He was still as obnoxious as he had been when he was younger.
“Dustin dries it out. Greer and I help out, but Dustin has the touch. He can tell the second it’s done. The other growers dry it out too much so it has no taste and burns quicker. They sell more that way. We don’t. Ours is high-quality and will give you a buzz that brings you back for more. That’s why everyone wants to bring us down.”
Sutton reached for the last piece of toast, smearing jelly on top. “I can’t believe you’re actually proud of your skills.”
“Why not? Pot is legal in several states now. Hell, they’re even coming up with fancy flavors,” Tate, as always, defended his family business.
“For medicinal purposes,” Sutton countered.
Greer snorted. “If they smoke ours, they’ll damn sure feel better. I know I do.”
“With all three of you smoking it, I’m surprised you have anything left to sell.”
“We don’t smoke it.”
Sutton stared at Tate doubtfully.
“We don’t. That wouldn’t be good business. Greer smokes one occasionally to test the product, but other than that, we don’t touch it.”
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be smart to smoke our profit away. Besides, imagine living in a candy store where you could have it any time you want. After a while, you get pretty sick of it.”
“I ain’t sick of it, just saving up for something big.” Greer handed Tate the shotgun he had brought with him.
“What?” Sutton asked.
“I want a new truck, and it’s hard to get credit in our line of work.”
“You’ll have enough after this season,” Tate promised.
“That’s what you said last year, until Logan broke his arm when he fell off the swing. The medical bills took a chunk of our cash.”
“Family comes first.”
“Yes, it does. I ain’t complaining, just explaining.” Greer slapped his brother on the back. “Take care.”
“I will,” Tate said, clutching his ribs. “Go by and see Diamond, tell her what happened. I’m going to need her help if I’m going to get out of this mess.”
“I’ll go talk to her now. She’s probably already waiting for me to stop by.”
Sutton remained at the table as the two brothers went back into her bedroom to let Greer slip out her window. How in the hell had she ended up letting a man suspected of murder hide out in her house? Her best course of action would be to call the state police and turn him over.
Her hand inched toward the cell phone lying on the table. Before she could grab it, though, Tate’s hand reached from behind her, picking it up.
“You’re not thinking of turning me in, are you?”
“You’re not going to solve anything by hiding. Turn yourself in. If the sheriff is friends with Cash, he’ll help you find out who killed Lyle.”
“Knox is a friend of Cash’s, not mine. I’m not sitting in a jail cell, hoping someone will believe me while the real killer gets away.”
“Suit yourself. You were always too stubborn to listen to any advice I gave you. I don’t know why I expected it to be any different now.” She stood, intending to go get dressed.