CHAPTER TWELVE

Lisa's heart pounded as she hiked through the forest. She was sober. She didn't like being sober. That was the first problem.

The second problem was that the source of her ability not to be sober was about to be threatened. Technically speaking, the plants weren't illegal. Recreational marijuana had been allowed in Alaska for years. What was illegal was the fact that she sold weed without the appropriate state licenses.

Robert didn't know about that. The poor fool actually thought that she harvested twelve ounces of weed per month for her own personal use. In a heavy month, she might go through a third of that herself, but usually, she barely smoked an ounce in a month. It didn't really take much to get her lifted, and the stuff she grew was potent.

What she didn't use, she sold. Not for profit. Well, not really for profit. Eight to ten ounces of weed at twenty dollars an eighth was about fifteen hundred a month. Once she paid for all of her equipment, she maybe cleared three hundred dollars of that. It was just fun to grow weed. And anyway, why did the government always get to tell people what they could or couldn't do? She was an adult, and she wasn't hurting anyone.

And now all that was going to be taken from her.

She shivered as she looked around at the looming shadows of the trees. She didn't mind the forest at night. The forest at night was just like the forest during the day if you were knowledgeable and experienced, and she was both. She'd faced bears before, both black and brown. She'd endured hunger and cold and damp and thirst. She didn't think of herself as a superhero or anything. She just knew how to live out here.

But she liked her life. She'd lied a little bit to the agents when she said that if not for Robert, she'd just go off the grid like Graham. That might have been true twenty years ago, but she'd gotten used to the way she lived now. She liked their monthly trips to Anchorage. She liked beer in her icebox and the chocolates Robert would bring home every so often. She liked surviving in the wilderness, and she liked living in her cozy cabin.

She didn't want to lose her life. That's why she risked it right now.

"He said he wants money," Lisa whispered. "That's all. He just wants money. I can give him the money I have saved that Robert doesn't know about. That should be enough, right? I mean, he knows that I'm a small-time grower. I don't have a million in cash."

She had, in fact, just over a hundred thousand dollars in bills tucked away in a small compartment she'd carved out of the wall of their root cellar. She wasn't sure what she planned to use the money for, but she figured it would come in handy one day.

And it would. Today. Tonight.

She saw the stump ahead and sighed with relief and trepidation. She'd found the spot. Now, it was up to the man who had texted her to show himself and make his demands.

Maybe she would stop selling after this. Yeah, that was a good idea. She'd stop selling and just keep her three favorite plants for personal use. Well, maybe six. The sativa, the indica, the Afghan and her three favorite hybrids. There would be a little extra weed, but she'd just turn it into hash or extract the oil and use it when she baked. Maybe she would even convince Robert to try some with her. He would enjoy it, she knew he would. And the sex… oh, if only he knew!

She tried to think about the way Robert would react the first time he had sex high, but as she approached the stump, her fear drove away every attempt she made at lightheartedness. Behind her happy-go-lucky exterior was a woman who had been an adult for longer than she'd been a child. A poor adult, yes, but one who understood that at some point, running was no longer an option. You had to suck it up and face the consequences of your actions head-on.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Time to face her consequences.

She sat on the stump to wait. As soon as she touched the wood, a spear thrower snapped up from the ground and hurled a three-foot-long sharpened oak branch through her abdomen.