It wasn't a topic you jumped right into, so it took another hour and forty minutes before I met Emma at a park outside her apartment building.

If you could call it a park.

I double locked my car as I got out and walked into the weed-filled play area. They obviously hadn't given it the first year's mowing. The lack of care allowed the weeds to take over, and they were so tall the breeze bent them one way and then the next. Two swings were missing their chains on one side. They hung from the remaining side and dragged against the ground. A small, half basketball court took up space in a corner, but the hoop didn't have a net.

On a park bench on the other side of the park sat the blonde woman I'd watched my uncle give a puffy black backpack. The same woman who agreed to meet me.

I steeled my spine and walked toward her without a second of hesitation. I didn't have time to worry about the outcome now. I had to put these two pieces together.

"Emma," I said as I sat down beside her on the bench. A wide diaper bag took up the space between us.

She smiled and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. A piece caught on the collar of her shirt, but she didn't move it. Her free hand bounced on a stroller parked in front of her.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Vonnie Vines bought supplies from me," Emma said.

"Well." I swallowed hard. "You know how life is."

She snorted. "Yeah, it sucks."

"Uh-huh." At least we agreed on that part.

I still wasn't exactly sure what supplies I was here to buy from Emma, but I had more pressing questions first.

"Did you have a baby?" I asked, staring at the stroller. I couldn't believe my mother never told me.

Pelican Bay was a small ass town. Everyone knew everyone, and I hadn't heard a single inkling that Emma had a baby. There was only one explanation. Emma had the baby in secret, so no one knew about it yet.

Because my mother would have called me with this news. Multiple times. And if I hadn't answered, she'd have left a nine-minute-long voicemail. Maybe two.

Emma shook her head and bounced the stroller. "I just borrow him for this kind of stuff."

Oh. Well, then. Apparently, there were two explanations.

I almost questioned if she had an actual baby in there, but then a cooing sound came from the stroller. Emma bounced it harder. The poor kid had to think he was taking a ride on one hell of a pothole-filled road with all those bounces.

"From who?" Did the person know Emma was using her kid for illegal park meetings?

Emma laughed. "My neighbor. Has five more of them back home. She's always looking for a break."

"Oh, that makes sense."

Emma paused the bouncing to dig through her bag. "But I have to be quick. From the way he was smiling on the way over, he's about to take a dump and I don't do diapers."

I watched and my eyes widened as she pulled a small round baggie full of white powder from the side pocket of the diaper bag.

Shit.

Coke.

Emma's supplies were baggies of coke.

A bird chirped in a tree beside us. The sun darted out from behind a cloud, and Emma handed me the baggie of illegal substances.

My prints were on it now. There was no going back. My heart stalled and then beat in overtime. I dropped it on the bench beside me. I tried to force my eyes to stop being so wide, but they wouldn't go down. A high-pitched ringing flooded my ears.

"You didn't want coke?" Emma narrowed hers. "I'm not into heavy drugs like meth. Those mess with you."

I nodded because I had no idea what else to say.

"No, I'm good." I stuck the baggie of jail time in the pocket of my black leather jacket and patted it. "How much do I owe you?"

I always had a good plan before I did anything. Except this time.

As Emma and I sat on the park bench, I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. I had a baggie of coke in my pocket. My heart fluttered in triple time. Hell, it beat in quadruple time. I laid my hand on my chest. Was it a heart attack? My eye twitched. A stroke?

I hadn't thought this plan through far enough. I'd gotten myself to this meeting and then didn't think what happened next? How did I forget the "next" part?

Shit. I needed an iced coffee.

"Vonnie, you got the hundred?" Emma said and tapped me on the shoulder.

I jerked away. "What?"

"The hundred bucks I told you to bring?"

"Oh, yeah. The hundred." I fumbled for something in my other pocket. I'd put the money in that pocket, but now it wasn't there. Would Emma murder me if I didn't have the cash? I needed to buy time. My chest hurt. "It's good stuff. Right?"

"Oh, yeah." Emma watched my hand in my pocket as the other one tapped the baggie. "Snowbird only has the best product."

I sputtered. Snowbird? But I thought she got these drugs from my uncle? My uncle was working for Snowbird? He passed out drugs for Snowbird. I needed to say something, anything, but I couldn't get my damn lips to move.

"I promise it's great. Straight from Colombia."

A horrible thought hit me. My uncle was Snowbird.

I leaned forward a bit, trying to catch a breath. "Colombia? Wow."

Where was the stupid money? My fingers brushed against the sides of my pocket and I snagged the edges of a bill.

"I found it." I pulled out the bill and folded it over again, making it into thirds before passing it to Emma. "So, your guy is local?"

Emma shrugged and shoved the hundred dollars into a spot on the diaper bag for baby bottles. "Never met him. I just started selling on the side. Down payments don't save themselves."

Emma and I had a lot in common. Except for the drugs thing. And I still had a job to do.

"You've never met him? The big guy? The top dog? The main squeeze?"

She zipped up the diaper bag. "No idea. Everyone is real secretive."

"Who is your connection?" I asked, finding a decent train of thought.

She wrenched her head toward me and watched me with suspicion. "Some old dude. Why all the questions?"

Shit. I'd gone too heavy.

I shrugged. My heart returned to beating steadily rather than the mismatched beats. "I just want to make sure it's safe."

Emma laughed and stood. "Best in the state. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Great," I said with a forced smile and stood as well. My legs shook as I tried to stand without falling over. The coke felt so heavy in my pocket. The weight pulled me toward the ground, and I had to hold on to the arm of the bench to keep myself standing.

I walked toward my car first as Emma went the opposite direction, pushing the stroller in front of her. My legs were heavy like iron, but I pushed each one forward until I made it to my car and hit the unlock button.

I just had to get home.

But I have a bag of coke in my pocket.

No matter what I said to calm myself down, those words cycled on repeat.

I have a bag of coke in my pocket.

Coke!

The white rabbit.

Blow.

Dust.

Snow.

Molly.

No. Wait. Molly was something else.

But this still wasn't fucking good.

What in the hell did I do?

I opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. Somehow, I started the car without realizing it and pulled away from the curb. My skin grew sweaty and clammy at the same time. My hands shook as I drove, and the constant ringing overran my hearing.

The trip back to Pelican Bay took extra-long as I drove exactly the speed limit. I couldn't risk getting pulled over now. No way would Anderson ever believe I was holding a bag of Maine's finest coke for a friend.

It hadn't even worked on my parents when they caught me carrying a half empty carton of cigarettes for Rob Seitz my senior year. And those really were his!

In times of distress, I normally turned to the bakery girls for help, but I couldn't bring them into it this time.

Without their support, I only had one other person to call.

"Where are you?" I asked the second Broadrick picked up the phone.

He answered quickly. "At home. Are you okay? You sound weird."

"Stay there!" I shouted as I passed the halfway point home.