American library books » Other » Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

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kids on the weekends.

Rick nodded. “They were pretty slick. I’m talking military-grade, black ops shit, like the kind your friends are trained in and probably stockpiling up there at Sanctuary.”

Tina was about to protest but held her tongue. She didn’t think they were doing that, but she couldn’t prove that they weren’t, and she wanted to stay on topic.

“So ... Dwayne brings cool new toys to the playground,” she said, moving her hand in a circular motion to get Rick to continue.

“Yeah, well, everyone wanted one. Including me.”

Tina had a feeling she knew where this was going. “Let me guess. Gunther’s eyes turned green.”

It was an inside family joke that Gunther’s blue eyes turned green when he saw an opportunity to make money.

Rick nodded. “At first, we just got enough for us, you know? But Gunther saw the potential and figured other survivalist groups might want in, too. He was right. The demand was there. We even had a waiting list.”

“This was the sure thing you were talking about?” she asked quietly.

“Money was rolling in. Luther said he could double or triple it, so we gave it to him to invest. Everything was fine until those Sanctuary fuckers got Dwayne put back in the slammer,” Rick said with vehemence. “Dwayne’s contact got nervous. He didn’t want to go back to prison and ghosted, leaving us with orders to fill.

“It was just as well. Demand was greater than he was willing or able to supply anyway. Gunther found an alternate supplier, one who could think beyond a couple of crates now and then. But they demanded more—a lot more—up front. Gunther said if we pooled our resources, we’d make bank.”

“And you didn’t even think to question it? You just went along with him?” Tina felt cold and hollow.

“Gunther said it was a good investment. It was risky, sure, but Luther assured us we had plenty to play with,” Rick said again, as if the thought of Gunther being wrong or Luther being dishonest was incomprehensible. “We weren’t going to do it forever. I thought we could make a few bucks and put it back into the farm, you know? Get some new equipment and bring in some of that eco-friendly shit you’re going on about all the time.”

A pang of guilt went through her. She had been pushing for incorporating wind turbines and solar power and earth-friendly farming techniques for years. Was part of this unknowingly her fault?

“So, what happened?”

“It went too far. Things got out of hand,” Rick said, running his hand over his face. “We’re in too deep.”

“I don’t believe that. There must be something we can do.”

Rick shook his head. “It’s too late, Bert. Our only option is to sell. If we don’t, we’ll wind up in jail.” His eyes met hers. “Or worse. These aren’t the kind of guys who issue idle threats if we don’t hold up our end.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Doc

Doc just sat down to dinner when his phone vibrated with an incoming call. He pulled it out, expecting to see Tina’s name pop up, but the number on the screen wasn’t one that he recognized.

Since very few people had his private cell number, he figured it was a random telemarketer and let it go to voice mail. When they didn’t leave a message, he assumed his guess was correct. But when he received another call from the same number almost immediately, he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Watson?” asked an older female voice.

“Yes,” he answered carefully.

“This is Lottie Obermacher, Tina’s grandmother. I got your number from Mr. O’Farrell.”

His blood went instantly cold. The only reasons Doc could come up with for why Tina’s grandmother was calling him weren’t good ones.

“Mrs. Obermacher. Is Tina okay?”

“I’m not sure that she is,” the older woman said cryptically. “That’s why I’m calling. Can you go to her cottage and check on her?”

Doc was already on his feet. “Of course. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m afraid the shit finally hit the fan,” she told him. “She’s not answering her phone, and Friedrich hid the keys to the Buick.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Please call or text me when you get there.”

“I will.”

“What’s up?” Cage asked when Doc disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“I’m not sure. That was Tina’s grandmother. She wants me to go check on Tina.”

“Did she say why?”

“Only that ‘the shit finally hit the fan.’”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

No, it didn’t. It didn’t help that he’d been carrying around a bad feeling all day.

Tina’s call the night before had him worried. She’d been distracted. When he asked her about it, she said that she’d been thinking a lot about her grandfather. He hadn’t thought too much about it until she mentioned the old root cellars where he used to experiment, crediting him for her desire to try new things and create superior organic products.

Based on her description of the cellars, they sounded a lot like the networks of old mines and caves used by Freed and his crew. With her brothers being in Freed’s inner circle, it seemed a logical step to assume those underground storage areas were being used for nefarious purposes. Freed was showing increasing signs of paranoia, stashing stuff in separate locations around the mountain, including one of the caves on the far end of Sanctuary property. Each time they discovered a new location, they wired it with cameras and listening devices to stay abreast of what was going on.

He hadn’t shared what Tina had told him about the root cellars with anyone yet, but perhaps he should have.

“Do you want backup?” asked Cage.

“No. Let me see what’s going on first. But there is something you can do.”

“Name it,” Cage said.

“See if you can get those private satellites to do a sweep over Obermacher Farms, particularly in the hills behind the main house. Tina mentioned something about her grandfather using root cellars back in the day. I’m not sure if it’s anything, but ...”

Cage nodded, the look in his eyes telling Doc his mind had

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