Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five, Abbie Zanders [cheapest way to read ebooks .TXT] 📗

Chapter Eighteen

Doc

Doc waited all of fifteen minutes after Tina’s abrupt gotta go before he grabbed his go-bag, jumped in his Rubicon, and headed down the mountain. He’d sent several texts, and she hadn’t responded to any of them.

Was he overreacting? Maybe.

Did he care? Not particularly.

The only two things that mattered were that Tina was ill and that he might be able to help. More importantly, he needed to know she was okay.

He was quite well aware that he might be pushing a few boundaries. They were still in the early stages of their relationship, but he already felt invested, and from what he’d been able to glean from their nightly convos, she didn’t have a lot of people who had her six.

Tina’s answering text came through when he was at the town limits. Doc made a sudden hard right into the twenty-four-hour gas station on the corner, his breath coming easier as he read her message twice more and tapped out a response.

Several brief texts later, it was clear that she didn’t need his immediate assistance. For now, he would rein in his baser urges, but if she wasn’t feeling any better tomorrow, he would be back with supplies and whatever else she needed.

Instead of heading right back to Sanctuary, Doc figured he might as well top off the tank as long as he was there, so he pulled up to one of the open pumps. He was swiping his card when another vehicle pulled in on his right to do the same.

Doc didn’t pay much attention to the pickup at first. It looked like half the vehicles in Sumneyville, except that it was newer than most.

The driver, however, did garner his attention. Through his Jeep’s rear windows, he caught sight of the same guy he’d seen at Ziegler’s—Rick Obermacher. And just like that night, Tina’s brother did not look happy. His raised voice a moment later confirmed it.

Doc lowered his head as he put the nozzle into the tank and focused on the conversation taking place twenty feet away.

“I told you I’d take care of it, didn’t I?” Tina’s brother said irritably.

“Take care of it how?” another male voice pressed. “She fucking fired me, man.”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know she’d double-check the purchase order?”

“It’s your job to know. What the fuck am I paying you for?”

“Not to put up with her shit—that’s for sure,” the other guy grumbled. “She thinks she’s so much better than the rest of us because she’s got some fancy degrees and shit. Someone oughta bring her down a few pegs—”

Whatever else the guy was going to say was cut off abruptly with a muffled thud and a grunt as Tina’s brother slammed him against the side of the truck. Rick Obermacher was probably close to Mad Dog’s size—a muscled, broad-shouldered farm boy. The guy he had pinned against the side of the truck was on the shorter side, also beefy but in a too much beer, not enough work kind of way. With his scraggly beard, shifty eyes, and a wad of chew making the skin beneath his bottom lip bulge, he looked like most of the guys in Freed’s prepper group.

“You don’t touch Bert—ever,” Tina’s brother hissed. “It’s one thing to fuck with the operation, but she’s off-limits. You hear me?”

The guy paled and stuttered out a response, “Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I wasn’t going to do anything. I was just saying.”

“Well, don’t. When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.” Rick eased off.

The guy straightened, regained some of his false bravado, and spit off to the side. “So, what do you want me to do now?”

“Give her a few days to calm down. She can’t handle the orchards by herself, no matter what she thinks.”

“What if she tries to hire her own crew?”

Rick laughed. “Who’s she going to get, huh?”

“I dunno. People like her, man.”

“People might like her, but I can guarantee you, they’re more concerned about pissing me off than they are helping her.”

The other guy laughed. “Yeah, you got that right. Hey, I need more Skoal. Want anything from inside?”

“I’m good.”

The shorter guy ambled off toward the store as Doc’s pump clicked off, signaling his tank was full. Rick looked over as Doc was getting back into his vehicle, his eyes narrowing in recognition. Doc met his gaze head-on, and then he started up his Jeep and drove away.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, simmering with anger on Tina’s behalf. Pieces were missing from the big picture, but one thing was glaringly obvious—Rick Obermacher was part of something dirty and was willing to pull his sister down with him.

Rather than go to his trailer when he got back to Sanctuary, he went right to the main building. The place was quiet at that hour, though he could hear faint music and the telltale click of billiard balls from the new rec room down the hall.

He passed the office on the way to the war room, unsurprised to see the light still on. Church was often in there until well past midnight.

Doc rapped on the frame and poked his head in. “Got a sec?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I want you to confirm an ID.”

Without providing more information, Doc continued on to the war room. By the time he swiped his card into the digital lock and entered, Church was right on his heels.

Doc immediately went over to one of the computers and pulled up video footage they’d captured from Freed’s compound. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. Doc froze the image and zoomed in. “You know this guy?”

Church peered over his shoulder. “Yes. That’s Eddie Schweikert. Why?”

“Because I just overheard a very interesting conversation at the Sumneyville Gas and Guzzle between him and Rick Obermacher.”

Church’s eyes narrowed. “What were you doing at the Sumneyville Gas and Guzzle?”

Doc gave him a brief rundown, concluding with, “Do you think the operation