Richard vented a disgusted laugh. “I went into partnership with Dan long before Sandra came on the scene. I’ve known Dan a good many years. We worked construction together before I met Maggie. I knew he smoked marijuana, grew his own, big deal. Lots of people do. Doesn’t make them drug dealers. Dan had a good idea with this land when we bought it together. The real estate market was good then too. We’d provide affordable housing while creating our own little nest egg. These big grow shows of his started after.”
“Sandra comes from a totally dysfunctional family in Port Angeles, but she never used to be this bad. I know she had some trouble a few years back. Was raped, but then she hung around a really bad crowd. Can’t say it was any surprise after Dan told me. I suppose that’s part of what changed her. Still don’t understand this need of hers to look after special needs kids.”
“You still haven’t answered why you’re in business together?” Jesse cut Richard no slack.
Richard jumped to his feet, shoving his chair so hard a clump of grass flew. He stomped a couple steps, glancing at the house before facing Jesse. “Because the real estate market’s in the toilet; I’ve got all my money tied up in it, and Dan won’t buy me out.” He thumped his chest hard. “That property’s worth less now than when we bought it. So I’m stuck in business with him. But our part together, I guarantee you, is legit.”
“The grow op in the basement of that piece of shit house you burned down and the marijuana plants in the shed Marcie looked after. How can you have no part of that if it’s happening right under your nose?” Tit for tat. Jesse gestured his hand in the air, a man who questioned everything.
Richard ground his teeth. His icy blue eyes sought out Marcie. His tone was sharp and quite reminiscent of an overtired Richard. “He just did it, I wasn’t consulted. I found out after it was up and running. Yes, he had a grow op in that basement. I told him to get rid of it, the one in the shed too. I looked away for quite a while, when I thought he was growing for just friends. But suddenly, he had too many plants. He was getting greedy and that made him dangerous. Right after that the house burned. Marcie, I ignored what you were doing with that weed, because I like you. Since Maggie and I met you, we’ve felt protective of you. Why did you do it for him?” Richard kicked his empty chair.
“Because I was so in love with him, I thought I could change him.” Their eyes met and held. She knew Richard understood what she tried to say. The way his eyes filled with pity. She’d been a fool in love.
“So what happens now? Dan wants the marijuana you grew for him. He’s involved my wife, who has no business being part of this. Is he going to make good on his threat?” Richard shrugged and scrubbed the top of his head a little too hard.
Sam cleared his throat. “ Richard, I think it’s time to call Dan.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Marcie changed into a pair of Maggie’s light grey sweat pants and a bright red sweatshirt. She was bone tired, and when she tried to lie down on the leather sofa in the large open front room, her mind raced—her adrenaline pounded. So she lay there, allowing the knots to build in her tummy until the dinner bell rang, which was four large pizzas, delivered to the back door.
Six adults and two children crowded around a large country oak table. Crammed in like sardines. Everyone minded their P’s and Q’s, especially around the children, and because Ryley continued to cast wary glances between his dad and Sam.
After dinner, Diane helped Maggie clean the dishes in the large, open brick and marble kitchen. They chatted warmly about family, friends and her children as Marcie watched them over the long, creamy counter, dividing the eating area from the main cooking part of the kitchen.
Richard put the kids to bed and then whistled while he sauntered his six-foot frame, complete with solid pecks and tight, narrow hips back in the kitchen. He was a definite catch, but he had eyes only for Maggie. He walked up behind his wife and pulled her against him as he nuzzled her ear. Their fingers intertwined briefly, before he pulled away but not before their eyes connected in their own private moment. He was head over heels in love with her and had been ever since she served him in a bar as a twenty-two-year-old waitress. He asked her out within five minutes and married her three months later. After ten years, the chemistry still sizzled between them.
Jesse was on the phone in Richard’s study talking to his wife.
Sam sat at the table across from Marcie, his eyes glued to her, sipping his coffee from a pink flowered mug. Marcie could feel his heat and fought to look anywhere but at him.
Richard crossed his arms and rested his hip against the tiled counter by the sink. “Dan’s going to meet me tonight for a beer.”
“No Richard, don’t.” Maggie pulled her hands out of the soapy water she’d just dunked them into and spun around. “Stay away from him, hasn’t he caused enough trouble?”
“It was my idea, Maggie.” Sam got up and claimed the seat beside Marcie, resting his arm around the back of her chair. He didn’t notice how still she went.
“I’ve got to meet him. Besides nothing’s going to happen, remember, we're friends.” He said it with a hint of sarcasm which brought Marcie’s head around. And what she saw on Richard’s face was sheer male fear.
“You hate him.” Marcie didn’t realize she spoke aloud.
Everyone focused on Richard. They didn’t see the confusion through the fresh eyes she saw Richard.
“He messed with Maggie, and you won’t forgive him for that, will you?”
Richard glared at Marcie. His pale skin tinged a hint of pink and his long, narrow nose flared when he spoke. “You’re fucking right, I hate him. Who the hell does he think he is, showing up at my door, talking to my wife, forcing her into something…” He held his hands up in the air, shaking his head as his firmed lips trembled and formed a fine white line. “If she was caught, she’d spend how many years locked away in prison?”
“This guy’s either a confident fool, extremely cocky or brilliant. He has no loyalty to friends and is desperate enough to use underhanded tactics to get what he wants. I haven’t met the guy, but looking at you, Richard, I’d be wary about pissing you off.” Jesse took over a room when he entered. He wandered over to the corner wood stove behind the table, shoving his hands in his pockets before turning around. “I’d say he’s not done yet. So what’s he going to do next to get the rest of the marijuana? You had how many gardens yet to do?” He leaned forward enough to pin his bullshit-free eyes on Marcie.
This was no time to be embarrassed, but she was. “Nineteen.”
Jesse nodded as if satisfied. The way his eyes worked, he obviously devised some plan.
“What happens when he gets cornered or in a jam, how does he react?” Jesse glanced first at Richard and then at Marcie.
Marcie met Richards’s reluctant gaze. Then dropped her eyes to a piece of nail she picked at, hanging from her thumb.
“He’s complex, something like this, he’ll scheme, but he could also throw a temper tantrum like a little boy. He’s almost two different people. At night, he hangs around with a pretty bad crowd. During the day, he seeks out respectable folks, puts on a mask. One thing about Dan, he’s scared of getting in a fight, because he knows he’ll lose. So he creates a mess, points the finger at someone else and runs away.” Richard gestured his finger toward the door. “You’d think it would teach him to wise up, but he keeps doing it. He drinks heavily. Screws women and doesn’t stop to ask their names, always getting women to clean up his mess. How does he do it, Marcie? Why are you so willing to do anything for him?”
Her face flamed red. “The side he shows me is cavalier, dashing, radiant and charming. There’s something about him that’s addicting, the way he focused all his attention and caring upon me.” She dropped her eyes again to that irritating piece of nail. “He knows all the right things to say, as if he can read you. I think he does. There are many parts to his personality. He’s intriguing and fun to be around. I’ve never experienced it with any
one else. I’m sure you’ve noticed his special link with children. He appears to care deeply for their welfare. I’ve watched him around Ryley and Lily. Ryley worships him. And Lily, he was quite concerned with how to help her. How he should best approach her, what you’re doing for her therapy, what he could do to help. Richard, I know he’s asked you too. Whatever motivated him to do that…?” She stopped, held her hands up and shrugged.
“He talked to you about how to help my kid?” Marcie saw the instant a black haze of fury took hold of Richard’s senses. He pushed away from the counter and stalked around the kitchen island, squeezing his fists.
“Richard, it was a year ago. What I’m trying to get at is he’s unpredictable. He throws you off by making you think he cares. These many sides of him are like different personalities stuffed inside one body. It’s in his makeup of, what he is. He’s my father’s son.”
Chapter Thirty-five
“Dan’s your brother?” Sam scooted back his chair and hovered over Marcie. She was forced to look up.
“No, he’s not my brother. He’s my stepfather’s son. But he wasn’t raised by him.”
Richard leaned on the table, on the other side of Marcie and raised the flat of his hand. “Where are you getting this from Marcie? Dan’s mom lives in Port Angeles. He has five brothers and sisters. His dad walked out on them when he was a little boy. I don’t think he’s seen him since. So was this your stepdad?”
“No, Dan’s mom was another victim of my dad, Scotty Renard. He liked unwilling prey, mostly young girls.” That got everyone’s attention. The Renard property was forty acres at the front of Gardiner, filled with a history of criminal shenanigans. She noticed everyone’s eyes were agog; they obviously didn’t know he was also a sexual predator.
She knew Sam remembered the name, scribbled at the bottom of the journal she showed him last night. Many coincidences, but were they?
Diane abandoned the dishes she loaded in the dishwasher and moved in her sock feet closer to Marcie. “Isn’t he doing time for heroin trafficking?”
“Yeah, that’s what they eventually got him on.”
“Jesus Marcie, I thought you were raised by your granny on Las Seta. I didn’t know you were a Renard.” Richard backed away and leaned in the doorway.
“I was twelve, living with Mom in a second house on Scotty’s huge property. My brother Simon lived with dad. Dad was a substance abuser, just like Mom. Drunk by noon and took whatever choice drug was available.”
Sam and Diane glanced at each other but said nothing.
“Scotty’s a convicted heroine and gun dealer. But his hand was always in some pot, anything he could steal and sell. When I was twelve, a heroin junkie shot my brother in the face. That’s when Granny came and took me. I was lucky. Scotty Renard was a predator. I’ve never told anyone this, but he’d begun to show inappropriate interest to me, I was the age he preferred.”
Diane reached down and squeezed her hand. “Don’t, Marcie. We all know where you’re going with this.”
She just nodded. “I’m cold.”
Maggie hurried to the back door and lifted an earth brown sweater off a hook. She draped the thick wool knit around Marcie’s shoulders. Her nurturing hands squeezed in a supportive way.
“Dan’s Scotty’s son. He carries the same gifts and is nothing but a predator of greed, destruction and power. The only difference? Dan’s a dangerous coward, and another thing, he’s not the middle guy.”
“There’s a ship coming up from South America and it’s filled with cocaine, Dan arranged it. Richard, you’re also involved more than you let on.” Every eye focused in on Richard. Jesse took a step toward him.
“What the fuck do you know?” Richard slammed his fist on the kitchen table. Sam’s mug bounced spilling coffee onto the shiny oak.
Marcie jerked back, horrified by what she’d said and terrified of falling victim to Richard’s wrath. Could it really be true?
Sam moved around Marcie, her shining knight and shoved Richard. “Back off, now.”
“Richard, what’ve you done?” Maggie spoke with anguish as tears glistened in her silky brown eyes.
“Where did you get this information from Marcie, and how did you know about this ship?” Seeing no other choice, Diane gripped Richard’s solid forearm and hauled him back, stepping between both him and Sam. Diane was the only one who didn’t appear surprised by this news. In fact, the way she looked over Richard’s shoulder and then over to the back door, it was clear she wanted to change the subject.
“Well this is interesting, Diane. It seems you already know, but I just found out. Jerome told me.”
The fire crackled in the wood stove in the kitchen, cutting through the silence and the chilly fall air.
“No more secrets.” Everyone stared at Sam.
Richard walked around Diane and braced both hands on the table, facing Marcie. “So who’s Jerome and how does he know about me?”
Marcie watched Sam closely while she spoke. “Jerome appeared in my dreams. He’s my guide, but he’s also much more.”
Sam pursed his lips and to his credit, said nothing.
“Are you telling me some guy from a dream told you this?”
“Yes, Richard, I am.”
She knew the way his eyes widened. He had to wonder whether she was sane.
Richard threw his hands up in the air and then fanned them through his short dark hair. Sam was probably the only one who didn’t know anything. Or did he?
“I know Dan expanded his operation. Whatever he’s doing on the side, I’m not part of it. He put up a huge chunk of cash to bring up some coke. All I know, he’s in it with someone else. And I don’t know who for sure.” Richard scooted past Diane and paced the kitchen. “There’s a guy named Graham, he owns a large piece of real estate in Port Townsend. He’s met with Dan several times at our property. I was asked to front some cash and assured of a big return on my investment.”
“Oh my God. Richard, you didn’t.” Maggie hurried to the long counter where Richard paced and pressed her shaky hand to her mouth.
Richard walked around the counter until he hovered over his wife. “No, Maggie, I didn’t. There are some lines I’m not going to cross. These are dangerous players he’s involved with, and they don’t care who they hurt.”
Diane cleared her throat. “We’ve been tracking a boat coming up from South America which we suspect is carrying cocaine. We also know the boat’s owned by Dan’s brother, Greg McKenzie.” If everyone was shocked by Marcie’s revelation, it had nothing on Diane’s little secret.
“Diane, how long have you known about this? And why didn’t you tell me?” Sam wiped his hand over his unshaven face.
“We found out the day you left to go back to New Orleans.” Diane gestured defensively with both hands.
“So who’s monitoring it?” Sam asked.
“DEA, Coast Guard, Interpol, it’s a joint effort. We suspect there’s also going to be some trade of high grade marijuana. And that’s where Marcie and Maggie come in.”
Marcie glanced at Maggie. Her mouth hung open. Obviously, she too realized they were pawns in a bigger plan.
“So let me get this straight, what I grew and cut, and Maggie delivered to Sandra, is going toward this deal?” She spoke directly to Diane.
“It sure looks that way, Marcie.”
“Diane, who’s pulling the strings behind this deal?” Jesse leaned against the brick wall beside the wood stove.
“Lance Silver.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Maggie, Diane and Marcie stayed behind, while Sam, Jesse and Richard went to the Island Seekers bar, a quiet pub overlooking the ocean in downtown Gardiner. Richard would meet Dan for a beer, and Jesse and Sam would linger in a dark corner out of sight to watch.
Maggie paced the open kitchen. She fed another log into the wood stove and closed the damper. She pulled out the mop and washed the creamy golden tiled floor filled with green diamonds until it gleamed. Marcie brooded
in silence watching the battery operated wall clock tick by at a snail’s pace. It was after eleven and the men had been gone for nearly two hours. And Maggie, now ass deep in the refrigerator, was pulling out food, spraying down the shelves and giving them a good scrub.
Diane retreated to the living room. Marcie could hear her rustling in her briefcase, the one she’d retrieved from home, along with Marcie’s own duffle bag, after the men left for the bar.
Marcie scraped back her chair and grabbed a single crutch, hobbling into the bright, open beam living room. It featured a twenty-foot ceiling and a spindled fir stairwell that led up to the second floor where four bedrooms overlooked this spacious room. The leather living room furniture surrounded a river rock fireplace. And there sat Marcie’s duffle bag, dumped on a rich mahogany loveseat. She unzipped the side pocket and pulled out her silk-wrapped tarot cards.
With her sock feet resting on the square coffee table, Diane peered over her open file. Her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. “What’s that?”
“My tarot cards; I play with tarot cards. There I said it.” Marcie waved the bundle. Maybe because she was so tired, drugged, battered and bruised, she didn’t care to hide it.
Diane closed her file and slid off the leather sofa, dumping her glasses on the coffee table.
Marcie hobbled back to the kitchen with Diane dogging her heels.
“Wow, Marcie, pretty cool.”
Marcie stopped and really looked at Diane and then continued back to her chair, placing her cards in front of her and resting her crutch against the wall. Diane pulled out a chair, sat down and tucked in closer to Marcie.
“These were my granny’s cards.” Marcie shuffled, which brought Maggie’s head out of the fridge.
“I didn’t know you read tarot cards.” Maggie stood up, a spray bottle and sponge dangling from her hands.
The Choice, A Powerful & Engrossing Romantic Suspense Series (Walk the Right Road Series, Book 1) Page 24
