Marcie grabbed Maggie’s wrist before she could step forward. An odd odor had her lifting her nose and sniffing. “You’re making hash brownies?”
Maggie’s face paled. The tawny color in her eyes pulsed as her eyes widened. Every muscle in her body wound so tight. Marcie thought she’d bounce away.
“They’re almost done. When you’re finished tonight, I’ll send some home with you.” Sandra tossed her long mane of hair over her shoulder. Her tiny brown eyes blinked rapidly. “Oh damn it. I need to take out these contacts. You two better get going. You’ve got a lot of marijuana to cut and only a few hours to get it back here.” She flicked her hand at Marcie and Maggie, shooed them past a glass table dinette and into the shop and closed the sliding door behind them.
Marcie kicked pieces of scrap wood on the cement floor and stormed to the workbench, grabbing duffle bags and backpacks. “Maggie, take these.”
“Are you kidding me? Marcie, we can’t leave those kids here with her.”
Marcie swallowed the bile burning her chest. She grabbed Maggie by both arms. “Take the bags; get in the truck.” She pushed Maggie ahead of her out the open door and tossed everything in the back of the truck.
Marcie leaned close and whispered to Maggie. “I’ll phone in a tip to the state police when we’re done tonight. If I call now, they won’t do anything. She has a contract. She has resources and our backs are against the wall.
“Marcie, I never thought I’d see the day you’d turn your back on some special needs kids and the most vulnerable at that. To leave those kids is a heinous…”
Marcie spun around and cut her off. “Keep your voice down. You and I are both trying to protect someone we love. You go in there and stir up trouble and it’s you and me that’ll end up in jail. And those kids will end up staying with Sandra. She’ll look like a hero.” Marcie lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “If the sheriff catches her with all the marijuana while looking after those kids, it becomes a different picture.”
Maggie slammed the tailgate closed and let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, Marcie. I didn’t mean to accuse you of not caring.”
“Get in the truck. I’ll be right behind you.”
Shake it off, get your bike and get the hell out of here. Maggie started the truck. Marcie lifted the garage door, grabbed a helmet, packed the last backpack with a flashlight and clippers and then pushed her bike out and fired it up. She didn’t look back. She didn’t close the door, aware Sandra watched her every move.
Chapter Twenty-seven
She pushed hard, channeling all the fear nibbling at her spine into each careful step. The magnificent forest soothed and replenished every tense out-of-sort thought that dogged Marcie during the day.
Except tonight, something creepy whispered within these deep shadows, bringing the illusion danger lurked and would pounce at any moment. This doesn’t feel right. Marcie hesitated and struggled to keep her breathing even.
A full moon tonight added to the mystery, which cast an altered reality from the light of day. She shone her flashlight over the dirt path, but shadows lurked in the ground cover, salal, bushes and cedars, all nature’s power awakened adding to this eerie chill.
Marcie drew a picture in her mind of where she was. The forked path was after the twin cedars and before the brambles opening up into her first garden, planted for him.
Not long ago, she’d rejoiced for being a major part in Dan’s life. And put all her love into growing these plants for him. However, that was before she was smacked upside the back of the head. That awakening made her face the truth of her role in this drug-related insanity. Now forgiveness for what she’d done is all she wanted and to protect Sam.
Left with no other alternative, she pushed on to finish what Dan didn’t have the balls to do. It’s what he did. Women did his dirty work all the time. Except this time, his charm and charisma wouldn’t work. She began to see him as the monster he truly was. Did he really plant those drugs on Sam? Whether he did or not, his threat worked.
Something’s wrong. Again, the nagging voice prodded. She swept her flashlight beam over the fork in the path to a clump of overgrown blackberry bushes, which beat any security system around. Who’d be stupid enough to climb through it?
And there it was, God dammit, Old Rock, where she and Dan chiseled their initials into the front of the huge stone, the first day he brought her out here, to teach her the art of outdoor cultivation. Amazing how time shifted, once proud of her exhibit, now she only prayed it’d disappear.
Behind the big rock, vines lifted, exposing a tiny opening, which allowed someone small to crawl through. Sliding on her stomach, she shimmied through dirt and damp ground cover, pushing with the toe of her hiking boot. Halfway under, her backpack snagged on barbed thorns and a sharp rip split the unnerving silence. Marcie swallowed hard, unable to stifle the terror rocking her insides. And what made it worse, she couldn’t shake a dreaded feeling of being watched. She pushed hard with her foot to scramble forward, but it was no use. She was stuck.
“For fuck sakes, I need to be done with him.” Marcie whispered the desperate words and rested her forehead in the dirt. She slid back under the vine to where she’d started and squatted behind the rock. The extra time this took spiked up her already frazzled nerves, and that made her paranoid. Stop it, Maggie’s waiting. She pulled her arms from the thick straps, dropping the backpack. She’d trained for this. She knew what to do. Why was this so hard now? She wanted to cry, but refused to give in.
Keep it together. Trapped by a predator who knew what emotional strings to pull, she’d no time to wallow. Ready now, she tried again, this time shoving the nylon backpack on the ground in front of her.
“Ouch, shit.” A jagged piece of rock dug deep in her knee. She breathed in and out to shake off the sting, forcing herself to keep going to the other side.
On her hands and knees now, Marcie remained motionless in the clearing. Something wasn’t quite right, so she clicked off her light, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark. She could see nothing, but her unease persisted. It was probably just Dan and his threat to Sam. Stupid,stupid! Had nothing her granny and Sally taught her sunk in?
Time was not her friend. The cops, military, they all knew this was the time of year outdoor crops were ready. Helicopters swept overhead throughout the day, searching isolated areas to seize all marijuana crops. She’d soon find out if hers were gone.
“Okay, okay, just do it.” This self-talk was a problem tonight. She bit her lip to refocus and snapped on the small flashlight, shining it upon the dead alder, and ring around the base of this once hearty tree. Exposing its bitter death, she’d carved into the bark, before she’d sprayed poison. She stood up and tossed her pack over her shoulder, sweeping the light in a wide arc, over her mature budded field. She dropped the backpack, unzipped the pouch and pulled out a pair of worn handheld garden clippers.
Tucking her flashlight under her chin, she dangled the strap over her left arm and approached the first plant. She snipped the bud shutting out the little voice in her head using the tension to drive her as she cut each mature, leafy bud, dropping them one by one into the plastic lined backpack.
Her mishmash alignment of five-foot high plants was imbedded to memory. Hurry up, keep your eyes open and listen. The whispered warning drummed inside her stomach. Louder and louder, her heart hammered leaving her deaf to the hiss of the night. She was breathing too fast. She forced herself to take even breaths. Calm down. Because if caught, the repercussions would destroy a lot people she loved. And she’d not allow that to happen.
She reached the last plant, cut and then tucked the clippers in a side pocket and zipped up her backpack. One final check, she shone her light over the garden, just to make sure she didn’t miss any. Okay girl, make tracks.
Kicking through the underbrush she froze. Her throat squeezed shut threatening to cut off her breathing. Disoriented she stared at the wild rose bush draping itself over a mature marijuana plant. Her mi
nd scrambled. Think, think. Did I trim it first or is it a warning?
Her stomach pinched when her memory cleared. Another step closer to the compromised plant and there was the bud ripped off and deliberately stuck through the top leaf. She jerked her head around, consumed now with a rising panic to flee from this warning of someone’s calling card. Gotcha! The stories Dan told of what growers often did in the marijuana show to tip you off were imbedded in her brain. Her secret spot deep in the woods had been found.
Fright and flight bowled her over like a hurricane tide. She looked right then left. Get out! Now! Run! Someone’s watching waiting. You’ve been set up.
Pure terror had Marcie grabbing the backpack and dropping down, scurrying on her stomach under the vine into darkness. Allowing her ears and sense of touch to guide her. Thorny bushes snagged and pulled, and even a sharp sting didn’t register as a need to stop. Instead, pain fuelled her desire to escape. Good or bad, whoever was here and had discovered the crop didn’t matter.
Be quiet. The warning had her crouched behind the rock trembling. Keeping a frantic grip on the darkened flashlight, Marcie willed her eyes to adjust to the night. She needed to find the path and get the hell out of here.
Panic urged her to ditch her backpack and move. But an image of Sam popped in her head, along with Dan laughing in the background. “Oh, Sam,” She whispered. A tear leaked out and dripped down her cool cheek. She knew what she had to do. So she closed her eyes, gave herself a good dressing down and listened to the sounds of night. Time was running out. Come on, suck it up, you can do this. Use those gifts God gave you. Ground yourself, listen and feel for someone.
Marcie rose on legs that, for a second, trembled. Then she quietly slung the backpack over her shoulder, and for one ridiculous moment, said farewell to what was left—the leaf to be cooked down into resin, not where the money was, and definitely not worth the work. Let Dan send someone else. She had the prize, pure, unadulterated and organic, worth its weight in gold.
A brisk wind rustled the tree branches. She fought an overwhelming urge to bolt down the darkened path but slugged on through this gigantic mistake, carrying this vile bag—her albatross. Not long ago with Dan, she’d delighted in the cover of darkness. Except now, she knew it was nothing but a bridge to lies, deceit and everything wicked. This walk on the dark side, tainted with ample opportunity to toy on the wrong side of the road. And you know in the light of day it remains too hushed, too dangerous to expose. Do you get it now? Oh, she definitely did.
She’d stashed her dirt bike in the thick brush lining the old logging road where it waited around the next winding bend. Walking faster through the thick forest, she passed the Scottish pine surrounded by ferns. You’re almost there. Marcie agonized, suppressing a driving desire to sprint the rest of the way. She stopped and looked over her shoulder and then pulled out the bike from its hiding spot.
Panic closed in when she straddled the machine and quickly fired the engine. With her knapsack looped over both shoulders, she let out the clutch. The motor revved and slashed through the silence. She raced down the path. A quick gear change, and then she cut right onto another trail, which led back to the old highway. She could see safety now, even headlights from an approaching car. The ache lessened and the eerie pull on her back lifted. But until she finished every garden she planted, none of them was safe.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Still spooked, she tossed Maggie the pack. Who was watching them, Dan, his friends or someone else?
She killed the idle on her dirt bike. “You see anyone?”
Maggie froze while packing the bag in the back of the SUV. She whipped her head around, searching behind her in the darkness. “What’s going on? You think someone’s watching us?” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Marcie, do you?”
Marcie closed her eyes. Now she was freaking Maggie out. “I don’t know, Maggie; I’m a little off tonight. Just be careful and don’t take any chances. You got the kids to think of. You cut and run if you think anyone’s watching.”
“Stop it, Marcie; I’m not leaving you out here alone. Look, we don’t have much time. Let’s just finish this. Where to next? Marcie, come on!”
Marcie knew she was right. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of cold terror, of something completely off. “I’ve got ten up by the bridge.”
“I wish I could help you more, but I don’t know how to cut it.”
“You shouldn’t even be here!” Maggie pressed her palm over Marcie’s mouth.
“Stop it, no more. We have four hours left, and if it’s the same to you I’d rather not stand here rehashing everything over and over.” Under the moonlight, diamond studded earrings glistened in Maggie’s ears when she swept back her hair.
“Maggie, your earrings, take them out.”
“Richard gave me these, I…” Marcie gripped her wrist.
“Just take them out. We can’t be seen with what we’ve got.” She pointed to the moon. “They reflect the moonlight quite nicely. Good for romance, not this.”
Maggie did what she asked and then pulled out the local map and a pen from her pocket. “Show me where to go next.”
Marcie traced a line and marked off the service road. “Let’s go. That road’s isolated, but make sure you kill your lights before you get to the end. Be careful.” She pulled on her helmet, attached several bags to the back of her bike and took a shortcut up a trail often used by horses, ATV’s and other bikers in the area.
After Marcie finished at the bridge, Maggie took the first load back to Sandra. Marcie knew Dan wouldn’t be around, although he’d check in from a safe distance. He was smart in a cowardly kind of way. He used women. Targeting smart, dysfunctional educated women, letting them do the work, take the risks and the fall.
Exhausted, Marcie was filled with malice toward a man she’d given everything too. Well, not everything. Worry raced her mind of what trouble Maggie would run into at Sandra’s place. You never knew which one of her low life friends she’d have hanging around this time of night. She prayed Maggie could dump the load quickly, leave and be waiting for her by the time she finished this run.
Gripping the handlebars, Marcie couldn’t remember ever being so tired. Her mind drifted, wanting nothing more than to curl up in her soft bed, and that’s when she lost her focus. A downed log appeared out of nowhere. Time stood still, as did any awareness of hitting the log, flying through the air and landing on the ground so hard she rolled.
She was numb at first, until each of her senses popped back, one by one, completely out of sync. Her dirt bike idled in the distance. A chirping choir of frogs sounded so close she wondered if they stalked her. On her back, she gazed at the bright moon. A rock stabbed her lower back, and it screamed for relief. Marcie tried to sit up, but a sharp blinding pain shot upward, through her left side. And her right leg, burned, as if a red hot poker had been jammed into it. Pure agony stole her breath, and she lay back down. If she kept her breathing short and shallow, it wasn’t as bad. Marcie needed to finish. And it was Sam’s face that flashed in front of her, giving her strength to try again. She rolled to her side and screamed as hellfire shot up her right leg but kept going, until she leaned all her weight on her left knee. Something wet dribbled down her left arm. In the moonlight, she could see her ripped sleeve and blood coating her skin. She couldn’t tell where else she was hurt. Her head was so heavy. She yanked off her helmet, letting it fall away. Her bike, where was her bike? She lifted her head and listened to the engine sputter and cough, and then nothing but silence.
Marcie could see her bike outlined in the darkness and tried to crawl on one knee. But the forest began to sway. She braced her arms when dizziness stole her vision. Her stomach heaved, and she vomited before tipping off balance, hitting the ground with her face. Then one by one, her muscles gave out. She closed her eyes for a minute, to stop the spinning. But the battle was lost when everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Sam jammed the accelerator, swerving past a few early morning drivers on Highway 101. “Sam, slow down before you kill someone.” Diane gripped the handle above the door.
Jesse grabbed the seat behind Sam’s head. “Christ Sam, slow down.”
“I fell asleep on the damn couch so I could give her some space and she snuck out through the fucking window! Why! Why would she do it?”
“You’re not the only one who feels sucker punched, Sam.” Diane flicked on the police scanner.
“When I find her, I’m going to lock her up.” Sam pounded the steering wheel with the flat of his hand so hard the black wheel dipped.
“Sam, we don’t know why she left. So let’s find out the story first, before you do something that can’t be undone.” Diane snapped.
“She’s in trouble, someone got to her.” Diane jerked around in her seat and eyeballed Jesse. In the rearview mirror, Sam saw something in his friend that kicked all the air out of his stomach.
“You guys miss what happened yesterday? When you saw that lost vacant girl wandering barefoot through a thorny bush? She was shaking. She could barely hold it together. I knew something was up, but I didn’t expect this. I thought after a good night's sleep she’d open up in the morning.”
“And you’re just remembering to say this now?”
A siren wailed, blared its horn. Sam could see an ambulance behind him in the rearview mirror. Swearing, he was forced to slow down and pull over. The ambulance blew past.
“Guys, I got an awful feeling. You don’t think…?”
Jesse slapped Sam’s shoulder. “You mean being paranoid. Follow them.”
Diane sliced her hand through the air, when she cranked up the volume on the police scanner. “Quiet so I can listen and find out what’s going on.”
Sam followed at a close pace to the flashing ambulance. Despite his anger at her betrayal, he needed to know she was safe. He knew something was wrong. Jesse was right. She’d been terrified. But what could have happened in the half hour they’d left her alone.
The Choice Page 20
