Page 60 of Not This Place

Rachel stared at him silently as the puzzle pieces clicked into place in her mind. The weed wasn't the main business.

“He wants to kill you,” she repeated, trying to allow this nugget of knowledge to worm it’s way into his mind.

And finally, it seemed to crack him.

Simon looked scared still, breathing heavily. He had tears in his eyes. “Dammit… I was a science teacher. At his kid’s school. I didn’t know what job he was offering until it was too late. A cleaner… That’s all I do. I don’t kill. I clean. But he kills… this… this is his land. He leases it to farmers. Barker wanted more money. He saw that as disloyal. Jasper wanted his own business. Same deal. He'd never kill his son, but he killed the woman he loves…" Simon bit his tongue as he spoke, as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. "It's the land. It's his land. His legacy. It was going to Jasper. But Jasper has been looking into other deals for a few months low. So now it's going to Jameson, his other boy."

“I still don’t understand.”

“Nothing wasted,” Simon said simply. “The oil, the weed… the opium.”

“He’s involved in opium?”

“And armaments.”

She stared.

“Exactly how rich is this asshole?”

“You called him a billionaire? That’s just his oil… and it’s not even a quarter of his business.”

Simon was shaking his head fervently. But now that he’d decided to talk, that he’d realized his life was forfeit, he didn’t seem willing to hold back the gush of words.

“Why doesn’t anyone know about these other businesses?” Rachel asked, her mind working in overdrive as she continued navigating through the dense forest.

Simon shrugged, "He's very careful. Has people everywhere. Money can buy lots of loyalty.”

"Or fear," Rachel added grimly.

“And silence,” Simon whispered.

The pair fell into another silence, punctuated only by their ragged breaths and the distant hoot of owls.

“He’s protected,” Simon said simply. “You won’t get to him. He’s got an army of lawyers. And if not that, he funds actual armies in other countries. He’ll just move. He knows wardens, police captains, governors, politicians. He’s surrounded by allies… He plays podunk, old-timey farmer. But he’s a mobster.”

Simon spat to the side now.

Rachel considered these words. “So I can’t reach him.”

“No. You can’t.”

“He’ll shield himself?”

“That’s right.”

She considered this a moment longer, then turned. She began marching back in the direction they’d come from.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“He’s not protected now,” she said simply, her eyes narrowed. “He took a shot. He’s coming after you. For now, it’s just me and him.”

Simon’s eyes bugged. “W-what about me?”

“Follow the river,” she said. “Bridge in a few miles.”

“M-miles?”

“Yeah. Get going.”

---