Free Tussinland by Mike Monson Page A

said.
    “Why isn’t it here?”
    “I told you, you’ll get it later. Tonight.”
    “It was supposed to be last night .”
    “Sorry, change of plans, Mom.”
    “You little brat,” Bethany said, as she closed her fist and brought it back behind her head.
    “Okay, Bethany,” Pete said. “I think that is enough.”
    Bethany ignored him.
    For a moment, Bethany and Miranda just stared hard at each other until Miranda smiled. As Bethany cocked her fist back, her nostrils flared and Miranda’s grin grew larger. Pete jumped up and grabbed Bethany’s arm just as she brought it down onto Miranda’s face.
    “Bethany!” he said. “Sweetheart. That’s enough now.”
    Bethany continued to struggle. Her cell phone rang. It was on the desk. She glanced at it and clutched Miranda’s hair with both hands and sat her down on a chair.
    “You stay!” she said to Miranda. Pete pulled her over to sit in the chair next to him. “Fuck you, Mom,” Miranda said.
    “What are we going to do, sweetheart?” Bethany said to Pete. “I knew it was a mistake to have Randa and Logan do this job. We could’ve found someone more trustworthy.”
    “They were our only way into that house, our only way to get our hands on the stuff,” Pete said.
    “But we can’t trust them,” Bethany said. “Especially Logan.”
    “Hey!” Miranda said. “We pulled it off, didn’t we? And you know Uncle Paul is going get blamed, just like you wanted. Grandma told the police all about his threats and his debts. They found out about the life insurance and pension money too. And I told the police about the gun under his bed. And I gave Mavis some phony story that Logan and I saw Paul buying a gun at that shop out on Yosemite. Way she is, she’ll tell the po-po all about it. And you guys and the police will tell Jorge Rincon everything grandma and me tell you. You two should be happy. Jesus.”
    “And hopefully he can stay out of custody long enough for Rincon to catch up to him,” Bethany said to Pete. “Or maybe get to him inside?”
    Miranda grinned. “That’s on you two. I’ve done my part.”
    “What can you tell us about the stuff?” Pete said to Miranda.
    “It’s good,” she said. “It’s not anywhere near pure Logan says, but it’s good stuff.”
    “How much is it worth?”
    “Like I said, Logan is the expert on shit. Okay? You’ll have to talk to him.”
    “He didn’t give you any idea?”
    Miranda sighed, she looked at the door. “Not really,” she said. “There’s something about whether he sells it like it is, in bricks, which would be fast, or if he sells it by these little bags. But that could take a month or more.”
    “Don’t play dumb,” Bethany said. She walked up very close to her daughter. Rather than pulling back in fear of another blow, Miranda brought her own face closer. “I bet you know exactly what it’s worth, Randa. Bricks or bags.”
    Miranda stood up and walked toward the door.
    “I need to get back to the meeting or else they won’t sign my card.”
    “Pete,” Bethany said. “Stop that little bitch.”
    Pete reached out and grabbed a couple of Miranda’s braids in his right hand and jerked her toward him. He put his left arm around her waist and held tight. Bethany stood over Miranda.
    “I told you that Logan wants to hold onto it until tonight,” Miranda said. “What’s your hurry anyway?”
    Bethany slapped her daughter’s cheek. Her phone rang again, she glanced at it, muted the ringer.
    “How much is it worth?”
    “I didn’t want to tell you because we can only estimate,” Miranda said as she struggled. “Jesus, Dad, I have to go!”
    He loosened his grip on Miranda.
    “So, make an estimate,” Pete said. Bethany sat back down.
    “Okay,” she said. “In bricks, it’s about two hundred thousand.”
    Bethany smiled. She stood up. “And in bags?”
    “Maybe a million?”
    Bethany reached out and hugged her husband.
    “But you know, either way, Logan wants a bigger