The Bootlegger
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2019 by MysteryWriter

Trina arranged for Ester to meet me at the 2nd chance store. It was a neutral location. So I felt comfortable meeting her there. We set it for Sunday morning at 9:30AM. I planned to do a careful drive by to be sure I wasn’t being set up.

It was two days till Sunday, so I did some checking on Ester. I couldn’t believe that she had been an Orthopedic nurse for fifteen years in the same practice. There were no rumors about her at all. She like Trina was a widow. Other than that fact there was nothing. She checked out perfectly clean. Still it just didn’t sit right with me somehow. She was going to have to prove to me that she was for real.

“Mrs Martindale,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You are Trina’s business partner?” she asked.

“Yes, I am. What can I do for you?” I asked. She was going to have to say it.

“I would like to buy some of the Marijuana like what you provided for Trina’s Christmas Party,” she said.

I stopped to take a good look at Ester. She was a few years younger than Trina. She was also several pounds heavier. Give me your cell phone number. I’ll send you a text, if I can reach my friend. You don’t want to buy from someone on the street, and my friend doesn’t do business with strangers. I’ll have him send you a text. That is he decides to do business with you. If he decides to do business with you, then I’ll have nothing more to do with it. It’s between you and him.

“I understand,” Ester said.

“There is one other thing. Trina go out front.” After she left I continued. “Ester I have to know that you aren’t a cop. I want you to give me a blowjob.” I stood up and waited. I wanted to know if she was willing to go through with it. She slowly shook her head. The answer was no.

I grabbed her arms and examined them for track mark scars. She did not appear to be an intravenous drug user. She could still be a pill head and on the police’s rat list. On thing you learn in the joint is that informants come in all shapes and sizes. Ask Donald Trump, if you doubt me.

“That’s fine Ester, I don’t blame you a bit, but I can’t help you,” I explained.

“Wait,” she demanded. “It’s just I have never done it for a stranger.

“I’m not a stranger Ester. I’m the man you want to supply you illegal drugs,” I explained. “In this case we have to be able to trust each other completely.”

I stood giving the very straight Ester a chance to live out a common fantasy. I wasn’t surprised when she walked over and dropped to her knees. I didn’t help her at all Ester knelt and did her thing. It was simple, she was being coerced, but not physically forced to do it. After she swallowed, she went looking for a paper towel. I left the room and drove straight home. I took a nickle bag of pot from our stash, then I put it inside inside a Walmart bag and wrapped it tightly. I drove my landscape truck to a city park. I left the Walmart bag on a park bench, then returned to sit in my truck. I watched her take the package off the park bench. Then, she drove to the 2nd chance store to leave me an envelope. It was a test run. It was meant to give us both confidence that the drop and payment would go well.

Ester had a ‘post it’ sized note in the envelope. ‘I tried the product and it’s wonderful. I need much more for our patients.’

When I got home I discussed it with Lucy. We could reserve our stash of the good stuff for the medical trade and buy some weed for ourselves wholesale from off the mountain. I wanted to fill Ester’s order so I agreed with Lucy to blend some mountain weed with out own product. By doing that we should have enough to last until we grew more.

I did my research and decided that one hundred and fifty dollars an ounce was fair for the blend we sold to Ester. I explained the pricing to her via a computer note. I had a hard copy printed out by office depot. She had the choice of a cheaper blend, which was all from the mountains. It was one hundred and twenty five bucks an ounce.

I knew our personal stash was best and probably worth a hundred and seventy five an oz easy. But to be honest for medicine, the pure mountain blend was fine. We struggled to meet the demand that first year. To be honest we were running about at capacity even before we started growing again.

“Blending is taking too much time,” Lucy said. “Now that summer is coming we can’t keep up. This operation is going to get out of hand, worse than it already is.”

“So what is your suggestion?” I asked knowing she had a plan.

“We are making more money than we can spend,” she said.

“I get it Lucy. So what’s your plan?” I asked.

“We need some help from the beginning of the growing season right up to Thanksgiving,” She suggested.

She could tell I was growing impatient. “Okay I don’t disagree with you, so what is the solution?” I asked. “My family, my sister Lorrie to be exact. She is a year younger than me and she has worked the weed every summer growing up just like I did. She is a hard worker and she is honest.”

“How about being boy crazy. We don’t need her pillow talking with some dead beat,” I suggested.

“Lorrie is not boy crazy. She might be a little girl crazy,” Lucy said.

“Are you saying what I think you are,” I asked.

“Yes she likes girls, I mean she really likes girls,” Lucy said. “I figure we can rebuild your grandpa’s shack and let Lorrie use it during the summer months. If she wants to work during the winter months we can find something for her to do.”

“Let me think on it. In the mean time if we plan on her helping this summer. I can have the man who built this barn rebuild grandpa’s shack.” I hadn’t planned to do that before, but I considered it a reasonable expense. The three of us could make life easier for each other, so why not? I asked myself I could use cash from our ‘under our mattress’ stash. The repairs seemed like a good use for some of the cash.

 
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