Too Fast to Fall (Jackson Hole 1.10)

“Hendricks?”

“I won’t interfere.”

“Good. We’ll sort it out at headquarters.”

“Got it.” His voice sounded remarkably light considering the weight in his chest. “I’ll head over now.”

Nate felt the blankness on his own face as he walked through the trees to his truck and got in. As he pulled off the camping road, he called Luis and listened to the broken ring of a bad connection in his ear. Up ahead was her yellow car, bright against the snow and the dark green horde of sheriff’s vehicles.

“Nate,” his cousin said.

“Luis, it’s done. We’ve arrested Victor and some accomplices. The plants will be destroyed, though the rest of the cleanup will be up to you. We’re not very good at helping out with that kind of thing. But…”

He edged past her car, and he thought the danger was over, but as he passed a marked patrol car, Nate saw her in the backseat, her face shockingly pale against the dark interior. Her head turned toward him just as he turned away.

“But it’s done,” he told his cousin. “It’s done.”

CHAPTER NINE

NATE LEANED AGAINST the wall, his eyes locked tight on the interrogation going on behind the glass. Victor was no longer stoned. He was brutally sober and absolutely terrified. And he was spilling everything he knew, which wasn’t all that much.

“I don’t know, man. I met him at a party at Steve Tex’s place, and we started talking about all the bullshit work we do for practically minimum wage. He told me he had a great idea to make a little money. He just needed the perfect spot to do it. Come on, man. Pot never hurt anyone. It wasn’t like we—”

“So you volunteered your uncle’s property?”

The kid had the good grace to squirm at that, but Nate was distracted by the sound of a woman’s voice as a door opened in the interrogation suite across the hall. Jenny’s voice. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but as the door closed again, he heard the tense note of pleading in her words.

He’d managed to avoid her. He didn’t want to see her. She was probably scared. She’d probably cried as she was handcuffed. He hated that. He always did. Even when the woman was a stranger.

The hair on his arms rose at the idea of Jenny being booked into jail. Whether she’d lied to him or not, he didn’t want to watch that. He’d held her naked in his arms; he couldn’t watch her be broken that way.

He was turning to make his way back to the desk he shared with two other officers when a deputy named Davidson appeared in the doorway with a big smile. He held a plastic baggie up. “Don’t go anywhere. You’re going to want to see this.”

“What?” Nate asked, but the guy had already disappeared. He reappeared again in the room where Ellis was waiting to be questioned. Nate switched off the speaker of Victor’s room and moved over to watch Ellis.

“You still determined not to say anything?” the deputy asked.

“I’m not a snitch,” Ellis said, but he didn’t sound defiant; he sounded sad.

“No? You’re not much of a drug dealer, either.”

“It’s not like that. Pot helps people, you know?”

“So you thought this stuff was going to improve people’s lives? Because you got that all wrong.” Davidson smiled toward the two-way mirror and pushed the baggie forward. “You know why your pot plants look so shitty and woody?”

Ellis was apparently smart enough not to defend them and claim the plants as his own. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? How much did you pay for these plants? Or maybe you bought them as seeds, I don’t know. But you don’t strike me as a guy with a green thumb. So, where’d you get the plants?”

Ellis stared down at the table.

“I only ask because I’m concerned about you. Maybe you paid too much. Maybe you got ripped off. Because, Ellis…” Davidson leaned forward, his fists on the table and a grin on his face. “The reason your plants look so shitty is that you didn’t buy marijuana. What you have going is a thriving hemp farm.”

Ellis’s head snapped toward Davidson. “What?”

“Not a drop of THC in them. Or not enough to show up on a field test, anyway. You could smoke every one of those plants, and all you’d get was a sore throat.”

“That’s not true,” Ellis said, aiming a pleading look at Davidson.