Page 9 of Stella's Christmas Rescue
I shrug. “Let them fire me. I’m one of eight guys in this town who is fit enough for the job.”
Her laugh warms up a little bit, before she sighs. “A little over three years ago, my partner said he was working on expanding the business. In scents, everything is about your sourcing. Lavender from France, vanilla from Mexico or Madagascar, green tea from different tiny farms in China, and so on. I only work with the highest quality ingredients, and distill and mix them all myself, so I can guarantee the product. We were doing very well, for a time. So well, in fact, that I was going to start up an internet version, with an extensive questionnaire to help customize everything.” She finishes her coffee, then pours bourbon into the same mug, and drinks.
“What changed?” I ask.
“My partner said he was working a deal with some guys from Russia for wildcrafted Siberian Fir essence and other exotics that are hard to come by. I was thrilled, so I let him run with it, because he spoke Russian and some other languages that I don’t. I came into the shop one night, I forgot something. I still can’t remember what it was…” she brushes another tear from her cheek and blurts, “And that’s when I saw what they were really doing.”
A gnawing sensation in my gut made me interject, “Drugs?”
She shakes her head. “Guns. Lots and lots of guns. My partner had kept them in my storage room, right under my nose. No one had expected me to show up that late at night, so everything was going on in the open. My partner was arguingin German, and at first, I thought, wellarethey arguing? It’s a forceful language, maybe I’m judging them. And of course I was, because there were dozens of huge guns around. Then, he shot the guy. Dead. In my storage room.”
“Oh hell, Stella, I’m so sorry.”
She shrugs fast, as though she’s trying to drop the guilt from her shoulders. “Turned out, they had sold guns all over to warlords, cartels, whoever wanted guns on the black market. My partner was in a huge network. It had been going on for quite a while, I later found out. The authorities thought I was in on it, so when I went to them, they arrested me. Took a while to explain; no, I’m not a gun runner. I’m just stupid.”
I shake my head, “Please don’t ever say that about yourself in my presence. You’re not stupid.”
“Well, what do you call it, Jordan? They were in my damn storage room,” her bright blue eyes burn in anger.
“They were obviously good at what they do. You’re a normal person. You wouldn’t think to look for guns in your essential oil storage room.”
She laughs at herself, “I guess not.”
“How did they cover the smell?”
“You mean the carbony, chemical gun oil smell? Coffee.”
“You didn’t notice the coffee?”
She smiles, “In the scent industry, you keep a lot of coffee around. It refreshes the scent organs in the olfactory system, so you can keep smelling different scents. I used to keep dog food sized—bags of coffee back there to help with smelling everything.”
“That crafty bastard.” I sit back in my seat, wondering how common it is to cross gunrunning with the scent industry. I know people use coffee to mask marijuana scents, but I never thought of it for guns. I reason it out, “And so the gun scentswere covered, too. Huh. Your partner was clever, I’ll give him that.”
“Oh, he really is.”
“So, he’s your ‘stalker’?”
She nods. “I didn’t know what else to call him and keep you out of all this. I’m sorry you know. I hope this doesn’t put a target on you, too.”
I shrug. “I’ll be fine. I chucked all that fancy equipment, so I doubt they even know I’ve been around. Besides, I’m much more worried about you. Any idea when this will be over for you?”
She asks, “Wes was really light on details, wasn’t he?”
“It was just a short text.”
“Well, they’ve made some arrests in the gun smuggling ring, but there are more to come. So, until it’s cleaned up, it seems I’m on the hook for his crimes. Riker is very clever. He goes from extradition—free country to extradition—free country, rarely coming stateside. And they can’t find him, so…that’s that.”
I nod. “What was your life like before all this?”
She grins, and it stirs something my in chest.
4
“Iused to dance.”
“Exotic? Because I could really see?—"
I laugh hard, and it’s such a welcome change from just moments ago. Then I shake my head. “Ballroom, you pervert.”
