Page 71 of Hitch
I click the power button, then scroll through the gallery.
Pictures of the cornfields. A video of the breeze rustling through the stalks. A car driving on the road. A picture of my house. Then a closeup of my open window, with a partial image of me. A picture of the spore houses at night, with the locks on the doors.
A video of me coming out of the mycelium room, pacing toward the barn. Then an inside video of the mushrooms, the hum of the flow hoods muffling the speaker.
I switch off the camera, clutching it in my hand. She had a hidden camera attached to her purse, but how did I miss that she had a regular camera too? And how did she get around to these parts without me finding out through the GPS tracker? Did shewalk?Did she hitch all this way? Hell, I wouldn’t put it past her.
The driveway stirs with tires. Two police SUVs come into focus. No lights on, but speeding a little faster than I’d like.
Braden barrels out the front door.
“We’re fucked,” he says, his voice panicked.
I put Reggie’s phone in the driver’s seat, then slam the door shut. I stand beside Braden as the cops park their cars. Four different uniformed officers step out; one with a mustache, one with a shaved head, one with a sunburn, and the last one with a baby face.
I suck in a breath. This isn’t going to end well for us.
“Are you Duane Patrick and Braden Scott?” Mustache asks. “We have a warrant to search the premises.”
Braden and I glance at each other. Braden had to deal with the cops last time. I nod Braden forward. I’m more of the aggressive type; it’s better for him to handle the interactions like this.
“For what, exactly, officers?” Braden asks.
“For any suspicious activity.”
Braden takes a step closer to them. “Officer, you see, we—”
“There’s been several reports of drug production on this property. You knew this was coming,” Babyface says.
Both of us step to the side.
“We’re going to need you to come with us,” Sunburn says. His hands glide over the handcuffs hanging on his belt, and I know we’re not getting out of it this time.
We lead them to the back of the house, where the barn and the spore houses are.
I should’ve listened to those blackmail notes. Sold the place. Gotten the fuck out while I still could. But I didn’t because she distracted me.Because I let her get to me.
At least Reggie isn’t here. She’ll be okay.
Damn it.Who cares if she’s okay?
Shaved Head tips his head toward the padlock hanging from the lab doors. “You got your key on you?’
We have no other option right now. I unlock the door, then step inside. The flow hood whirrs above us, and I bow my head, ready for the declaration that we’re under arrest.
One of the officers scoffs, and they shift closer toward me. I look up.
The room is empty. There’s not a single petri dish in view. Even when I check the next room, the mushroom bags are gone.
Just like her.
“What were you hiding in here?” Mustache asks.
“Just equipment, sir,” I say.
“What kind of equipment?”
“Agricultural,” Braden says.
