Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Aiden leaned back against the pillows, still holding the map. His expression didn’t change, but I saw the muscle in his jaw jump. “He used to, or still does,” Aiden said quietly. “I don’t trust it when people claim they don’t anymore. Believe me, I’ve been undercover enough times to know that once you’re in, you’re never completely out.”
“Yeah, you would know,” I agreed. “Maybe you and Cormac should sit down and talk. My gut says he didn’t steal the boxes, but he wants them a little too badly.”
Aiden’s expression didn’t change, but his jaw worked as he thought.
“And,” I added, “he’s also trying to date Donna.”
That earned a short, humorless laugh. Aiden leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
“Okay,” I murmured.
“Does Nana know the boxes were stolen again?” he asked, settling back against the pillow.
“I don’t think she even knows we found them,” I admitted. “I didn’t tell her, and I’m pretty sure Dad didn’t either. We didn’t want to get her hopes up.”
Aiden lifted a shoulder. “If you say so. Secrets never last in Silverville.”
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed across the tray table. I glanced at the screen and then answered. “Hi, Nana. What’s up?”
“Anna, honey,” her voice trembled through the line. “I’m so sorry to bother you.”
My stomach sank. “You could never bother me. What’s going on?” I sat up straight, my hand instinctively finding Aiden’s good arm for balance.
“I’m being arrested,” she said.
For a second, my brain refused to process the words. “You’re… being arrested? Again?” I asked weakly. “What did Gloria do this time?”
“It’s not Gloria,” she whispered. “It’s me.”
There was a rustle on the other end, and a familiar male voice replaced hers. “Anna,” Deputy McCracken said, sounding like a man who’d rather be anywhere else.
“McCracken,” I snapped. “What’s going on?”
He exhaled hard. “We’re arresting your grandmother for possession, delivery with intent, and manufacturing of a controlled substance.”
I shot to my feet. “What?” My voice cracked.
“Yeah,” McCracken muttered, regret dripping from every word. “You might want to get over here. The tea she’s been selling tested positive for psilocybin.”
I blinked. “Psilo—psilocybin?”
“Magic mushrooms,” he said grimly. “Come as soon as you can.” Then the line went dead.
I stood there frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear.
Aiden frowned. “Did you just say psilocybin?”
“Yeah,” I said faintly. “What is that?”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “It’s the case I’ve been working. Someone’s been moving microdosed mushroom supplements through boutique shops across the state.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Nana was just arrested for distributing them.” She would’ve never bought something like that. Not knowingly.
Aiden’s brow furrowed deeper. “I know, but, well, her shop would be a perfect retailer.” He groaned. “We’ve been tracking the pipeline in Oregon and Washington and didn’t think the problem had hit farther east yet.”
“There’s no way Nana knew anything about that,” I said, panic rising in my throat. “Aiden? I sold a bunch of the relaxing tea myself.” Holy crap. The tea had looked perfectly fine, and I know Nana had vetted all of her suppliers. How was this even possible? “I have to go. Right now.”
“Oh, hell no.” He threw the blanket back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His muscles flexed as he stood, only pausing for a second to sway back and forth.
I swung toward him. “Aiden—”
“Give me my clothes,” he said, voice sharp but calm. “I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not even cleared to walk down the hall,” I argued, but my voice wavered.
He leveled me with a look that was pure Aiden Devlin. Strong, stubborn, and unmovable. “Then you’d better drive slow, because I’m not sitting this one out.”
Chapter 29
I drove through the pass, aware of every bump and hitch in the road. The car rattled like my sweet little Fiat shared my nerves. Pine trees pressed close on either side of us, heavy with rain, their needles dripping in slow rhythm. The air smelled sharp and clean but held the kind of cold that sank into bone. Low clouds hugged the mountains, gray and swollen, muting the light to a dusky silver.
More rain loomed. No question about it.
Aiden didn’t say a word. His shoulders drew tight, his jaw flexing now and then, giving me the only sign he wasn’t carved from stone. The man didn’t do passenger well.
We finally reached Silverville, the road widening as the trees gave way to the small downtown, and always, I felt like I was coming home.
I glanced at him. “Is it the fact that you’re not driving, or are you in pain?”
“I’m not in pain,” he said, voice clipped.
Oh, he was in pain. His knuckles were white where his hand gripped his thigh.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
That cool tough-guy muscle in his jaw clenched. “It’s a gift.”