Page 9 of Baja
I allow myself to move once his car is no longer in sight. My legs feel like Jell-O as I climb into my truck. My grip on the steering wheel is tight, trying to regain control of my emotions. I haven’t seen Ricky in months and thought he’d given up on harassing me.
For years, he would show up randomly. Sometimes, here at the house or when I ventured into town. He didn’t always approach me, but occasionally, he would confront me. I noticed I stopped seeing him around when Sukie started seeing Harlem, so I was certain having the club around deterred him. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case.
Not that I’m surprised.
Men like Ricky are arrogant.
Ricky and Brock were thick as thieves growing up. Brock always said they were more like brothers. It’s been years, yet he still can’t let what happened go.
One thing is sure—I can never let Ricky discover the truth.
Only the club knows.
I did what I had to do to protect my daughter.
If Ricky finds out about Sukie, he’ll go after her.
I have all the confidence in the world that Harlem can keep Sukie safe, but his way would end up with another dead cop. I can’t allow the club to put themselves under a police microscope, so I need to figure out how to deal with Ricky myself.
Once I have collected myself, I shift the truck into gear and head into town. For now, I’m going to shake off the encounter.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the nursery parking lot. As soon as I climb out of the truck, Shelly, the owner, greets mewith a smile. “Morning, Alice.” She sets a potted fern inside the entrance gate and removes her gloves. Shelly is a tiny slip of a woman in her mid-sixties with abundant white hair and is always in overalls. I met her a few months after I got out of prison and took over the greenhouse for Sukie. She was the only woman in this town that has treated me respectfully. Shelly has always been a ray of sunshine, and today is no different.
“Morning, Shelly,” I return her greeting.
“What you got for me today?” she asks.
I pull the inventory sheet from my back pocket.
“Ooo weee.” Shelly scans the sheet.
I laugh. “No kidding.”
“I’ll grab a cart and get started on this right away. I also got that German Chamomile you requested last time.”
“Perfect! Thanks, Shelly.”
Shelly waves her hand at me. “For you, honey, anything. Now let me get started on this list.”
While Shelly busies herself, I head toward the back to scope out some pots and pick up a new water hose. I’m scouring the pot aisle when I hear someone call out my name. Looking over my shoulder, I spot Ophelia walking my way, and with her is Mystic’s little girl Lorelei.
I smile at them. “Hi.”
“You don’t know how happy I am that we ran into you,” Ophelia says. “I haven’t a clue what I’m doing.”
I laugh. “And what is it that you are doing?”
Lorelei is the one to answer, “We’re getting flowers!”
I crouch to eye level with Lorelei. “You are? What kind of flowers are you getting?”
“The pretty kind we put in the ground. I asked Daddy, and he said we could.”
“He did?” I match her enthusiasm.
Lorelei giggles. “Yup. And I want to have the bestest, most pretty flowers ever.”
I peer at Ophelia. “Let me guess, you were roped into this task?”
