Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Damn. What’s this?”
Beneath my shoe is a tiny streak of white. I kneel, take a closer look.
Hawk comes up behind me. “Looks like powdered sugar or something.”
I look around. “Yeah…which means it’s not powdered sugar.”
Hawk sits down beside me. “The dirt is a little bit less compact here as well. What the fuck?”
“We don’t have any shovels,” I say.
“Not sure we need them. This dirt is pretty loose.” Hawk begins shoveling the dirt away with his hands.
I join him, and once we get down about a foot, it becomes clear what that white powder was.
There’s a bag of it, and it’s got a tear in it.
“I’ll be god damned,” Hawk says.
Several bags lie underneath the ripped one.
“Is this what I think it is?” Hawk asks.
“Looks like cocaine to me, not that I’d know.” I take a little bit of the powder on my finger, run it across my tongue. “Sure isn’t powdered sugar. It’s bitter as shit.” I spit it out.
“How the hell did it get here? On our property?”
“I don’t have a clue. But I’m betting I know who does.”
Hawk raises his eyebrows? “Eagle? No. I know he’s a little rebel. Youngest kid syndrome and all. But he’s not into drugs, Falcon. None of us have ever been into that.”
“One way to find out,” I say. “We bring him the fuck out here.”
Hawk points to the stash. “What do we do with this in the meantime?”
“We get it the hell off our property for sure.”
“I don’t want to touch the stuff.”
“You think I do? But what happens if some hunter is out here looking for shelter and finds this?”
He nods. “Yeah, you’re right. What do we do? Take it home and flush it?”
“Or take it to the cops.”
“Falcon…”
I shake my head. “Yeah, I know. If Eagle has anything to do with it, then we’re risking him getting arrested.”
Hawk shakes his head. “I still say Eagle has nothing to do with this. We’re close to the border here. Could be some mule found the spot and thought it would be a good place for a dead drop.”
“I suppose.”
“Which means… Someone will come back here looking for these damned drugs.”
“Shit.” I’m the oldest Bellamy kid. I’ve always taken care of my brothers and sisters. Always looked out for them, made sure no one gave them any shit. What do I do now?
“I say we get out of here. We’ll be in a lot more trouble if someone finds it on this property.”
I nod. “Yeah. We’ll get rid of it.”
I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do. I’m not sure of anything right now.
“You think we can take it all with us once we leave here?”
“I don’t know. Looks like there’s ten bags here at least. Each one weighs about…” I hold in my hands. “This has got to be three pounds.”
“We’ve got our packs. If we leave the targets out there, we can carry it all.”
I nod again.
I’m glad we found it, especially if our brother is involved.
But thirty pounds of coke on our property? This isn’t going to lead to anything good.
I’m composed, ready to strike at the two muscled men—one dark-haired and one blond, both dressed in black—holding pistols. The dark haired one points his at Sydney, who’s still barking.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I say through clenched teeth. “Who the fuck are you? Who sent you?”
“Nobody you know,” the blond says.
“Bullshit. Was it Bruno? Fletcher? It’s got to be somebody from the inside. Somebody I pissed off. Somebody I put in their place. Now you’ve come to take it out of me.”
“We’ve got no beef with you.” From the blond again. “Quit threatening the dog, Abel.”
“Fine.” Abel moves his gun from Sydney back to me. He gestures to the pool house and then spits. “We’re here for her.”