Page 41 of Let It Breathe
Reese shook her head, dread making her gut go sour. “I thought we agreed to talk about this. You were going to research what’s legal, and I was going to research what’s really legal before you got started.”
Axl set down his Coke can and sighed. “Time’s a-wastin’, we’ve gotta jump on the medical marijuana market while it’s hot. Besides, I know what I’m doing.”
“You can’t even grow legally while you’re still on probation,” Reese argued. “I checked it out online. And definitely not in the sort of quantities you’ve got here.”
“One of my girlfriends—Dolly, you know, the one with the tongue stud?—she got all the permits and shit. I’m just providing the land. It’s a business partnership.”
“One that’s got to be illegal. Come on, Axl, if anyone finds out this is here?—”
“If anyone finds out this is here, we show them the paperwork and everything’s okay. Hey, boys—don’t forget you’ve still got to plant the ’shrooms over there.”
Reese rolled her eyes. “’Shrooms? I thought those were outside.”
“Working on a few different angles, here. It’s all perfectly legal, Peanut Butter Cup.”
“Why do I doubt that? And why do I think Dick over at Larchwood Vineyards would have a field day with this?”
“Trust me, darlin’—I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s just like the time I told you I’d get you tickets to see the Dave Matthews Band up at the Gorge and I did.”
Reese rolled her eyes. “You got busted selling drug-laced brownies in the parking lot, and we had to bail you out of jail.”
Axl waved a dismissive hand. “They let me go when they realized it was only Metamucil. And you got to see the concert, remember?”
“Hey,” shouted one of the men behind them. “I think the camel just ate a plant.”
The other three men chortled with machine-gun laughter. Reese wheeled around to see Leon standing beside a row of little green leaves, his furry jaws munching rhythmically.
“Leon!”
She stumbled over and tried to pry the alpaca’s mouth open, but Leon clamped his teeth together and swallowed.
“Leon, no!” Reese pried harder at his jaws, yanking them open at last and earning herself a belch in the face.
There was a faint trace of green on his tongue.
“God, can this stuff kill him?” Reese shrieked. “How many plants did he get?”
“Just the one,” volunteered one of Axl’s men. “Maybe two. They’re little bitty.”
“Shit, I need to call the vet,” Reese said, scanning Leon for any signs of duress. Leon twitched his ears and hummed. “Does anyone know if marijuana is toxic to alpacas?”
“Toxic?”
“Yes, toxic!” she snapped. “Tons of things can be toxic to alpacas—acorns, azaleas, carnations, hyacinth?—”
“She said high,” chortled one of the men as he blew out a fragrant puff of smoke. “Highacinth.”
Reese gritted her teeth. “What the hell do I tell the vet?”
“That your camel likes the wacky weed?” offered one of the men, stepping closer to pet Leon’s neck.
Leon lowered his head and nailed the guy in the groin. The man doubled over and sat down in the dirt.
“He’s not a camel,” Reese snapped. “And that’s not funny.”
