“Magic mushrooms,” he said grimly. “Come as soon as you can.” Then the line went dead.
I stood there frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear.
Aiden frowned. “Did you just say psilocybin?”
“Yeah,” I said faintly. “What is that?”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “It’s the case I’ve been working. Someone’s been moving microdosed mushroom supplements through boutique shops across the state.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Nana was just arrested for distributing them.” She would’ve never bought something like that. Not knowingly.
Aiden’s brow furrowed deeper. “I know, but, well, her shop would be a perfect retailer.” He groaned. “We’ve been tracking the pipeline in Oregon and Washington and didn’t think the problem had hit farther east yet.”
“There’s no way Nana knew anything about that,” I said, panic rising in my throat. “Aiden? I sold a bunch of the relaxing tea myself.” Holy crap. The tea had looked perfectly fine, and I know Nana had vetted all of her suppliers. How was this even possible? “I have to go. Right now.”
“Oh, hell no.” He threw the blanket back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His muscles flexed as he stood, only pausing for a second to sway back and forth.
I swung toward him. “Aiden?—”
“Give me my clothes,” he said, voice sharp but calm. “I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not even cleared to walk down the hall,” I argued, but my voice wavered.
He leveled me with a look that was pure Aiden Devlin. Strong, stubborn, and unmovable. “Then you’d better drive slow, because I’m not sitting this one out.”
Chapter 29
I drove through the pass, aware of every bump and hitch in the road. The car rattled like my sweet little Fiat shared my nerves. Pine trees pressed close on either side of us, heavy with rain, their needles dripping in slow rhythm. The air smelled sharp and clean but held the kind of cold that sank into bone. Low clouds hugged the mountains, gray and swollen, muting the light to a dusky silver.
More rain loomed. No question about it.
Aiden didn’t say a word. His shoulders drew tight, his jaw flexing now and then, giving me the only sign he wasn’t carved from stone. The man didn’t do passenger well.
We finally reached Silverville, the road widening as the trees gave way to the small downtown, and always, I felt like I was coming home.
I glanced at him. “Is it the fact that you’re not driving, or are you in pain?”
“I’m not in pain,” he said, voice clipped.
Oh, he was in pain. His knuckles were white where his hand gripped his thigh.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
That cool tough-guy muscle in his jaw clenched. “It’s a gift.”
“I can take you to the hospital here real quick.” The one in Silverville wasn’t much compared to Timber City’s, but it existed.
“I’m fine.”
We pulled up to the sheriff’s station, the tires splashing through a shallow puddle before I parked. The old brick building looked solid with the flag snapping lazily in the breeze.
Sheriff Franco stood at the top of the steps, cane in hand, guiding Nana toward the door. My heart eased a little when I saw she wasn’t cuffed and that Bampa was right by her side.
I hustled out of the car and hurried to hug her. Her long wool coat smelled faintly of lavender and rain.
“Hello, dear.” She rose on her toes to kiss my cheek, then her eyes went wide as she looked beyond me. “Aiden Devlin, you are not supposed to be out of the hospital.”
He winced. Nobody wanted to face my grandmother’s wrath. She was too sweet when she got angry. That combination was terrifying.
