I turned and saw that The Kevster’s living room was filled with pot plants. Every surface was covered with plants, and that included the floor. There was a narrow path forged through the plants but other than that, it was wall-to-wall marijuana. It was a pot jungle.

“Holy crap,” I said.

“Gulk,” The Kevster said.

“Hank, let him go,” Ally said.

Hank’s hand loosened at Kevin’s throat and his other hand went to the small of his back. He was wearing jeans, boots and a gray t-shirt that fit snug on the shoulders and chest but sat loose at his waist. He pulled up the back of his tee and exposed a gun tucked into his waistband next to a pair of cuffs. He pulled out the cuffs and slapped a bracelet on Kevin, then he yanked him toward a door and slapped the other bracelet on the doorknob.

Kevin was coughing and explaining at the same time.

“Dude! I had to save the plants! They were dyin’. They didn’t do anything wrong, they’re innocent. Rosie left them to die. Someone had to save the plants.”

Hank ignored Rosie and turned to me.

“I want to talk to you,” he said.

He stalked through the pot path and I followed him into Kevin’s kitchen, which was also filled with pot plants.

Hank glanced around and then turned on me.

“What in the f**k?” he asked.

“How’m I supposed to know what the f**k? I thought he was calling about Pepper Rick, the guy who kidnapped me. I didn’t know anything about this.”

Hank stared at me for a beat and then looked to the ceiling.

“What’re you gonna do?” I asked.

“I’m callin’ it in,” he answered in a no-nonsense cop tone.

Uh-oh.

“Can we take the plants back to Rosie’s first and call it in from there?”

Hank stared at me incredulously, as if I’d just asked for permission to run the world and make every Tuesday International Pink Champagne Day.

I guessed that was not going to happen.

“Okay then, can the police take the plants and leave Kevin? They aren’t his plants, he’s just looking after them as a concerned environmentalist.”

Hank put his hands to his hips.

I sucked some air into my nostrils and then let it out. “How much trouble is he in?”

“Indy, do you have any idea how much this shit is worth?”

I looked around. I’d seen pot, I’d been around people smoking pot, I’d even shared a few joints myself in my wild past, but I had no idea.

“Uh, no,” I answered.

“He’s in a lot of trouble.”

I was afraid of that.

We followed the pot path back to Ally and The Kevster. The Kevster looked freaked. Ally had clearly cottoned on to the seriousness of the matter.

“What are you gonna do?” she asked Hank.

He walked right by her and out the door, pulling out his cell.

“This isn’t good,” I said to Ally.

“Why’d you bring a cop here?” Kevin whined.

“He’s my bodyguard, I keep getting shot at and kidnapped,” I told him.

The Kevster stared at me, this news always brought the same amazed look to everyone. Then again, it was amazing.

Then Kevin said, “Tim’s dead. I heard it on the news. Rosie f**ked us all.”

This was true, quiet, little Rosie, the Coffee Guy, had f**ked us all.

“Why did you bring the plants here?” Ally asked the million dollar question.

“Dude, I’m a pothead. This is the best pot in Denver, in Colorado, maybe in the world. It would be a crime to let it die. I did my duty to the pot, I pay the price. I have no regrets,” The Kevster was getting dramatic in the face of incarceration. I thought that was a good way to go.

“Tell me about this guy who came today. What’d he look like?” I asked.

The Kevster shrugged. Obviously, a future of using the toilet with an audience made scary guys seem less scary.

“He was one that came before, but without his partner. Dark hair with some gray, big guy. I saw him out the window, he looked angry.”

I turned to Ally, she raised her brows and I nodded.

Pepper Rick.

“When was he here?” Ally asked.

“This morning, it wasn’t even light yet. Bangin’ on the door, bangin’ on the windows, shoutin’. Freaked me out, I didn’t leave my bedroom and your card was on my fridge. I waited for, like, ever. Then I had to pee and I grabbed your card and the phone on my way to the bathroom. I called you after I peed.”

That was a bit too much information.

Unfortunately, Pepper Rick was probably long gone. I had to call Lee anyway, he was hunting and this was information about his prey.

I walked outside and saw Hank talking to a couple of uniforms, one was Jorge Alvarez who was soon supposed to sit the detective exam and, according to Malcolm, would likely be Chief of Police one day.

His partner was Carl Farrell who Ally had made out with after an F.O.P. hog roast. Carl had a bachelor’s, majoring in biology and political science and was now studying forensics. Carl was tall, big, blond-haired and blue-eyed. Carl’s hair was always a bit of a mess, Carl had a killer, dry sense of humor and Carl had a way of looking at you like he knew what you looked like naked. In other words, Carl was very sexy. If I hadn’t been so hung up on Lee, Ally’d have had competition for Carl.

I waved to Jorge and Carl as they walked inside. Jorge shook his finger at me mock-angrily. Carl grinned, then winked as he walked by.

Hank headed toward me.

I was about to call Lee when my cell rang.

I flipped it open.

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself, woman. You comin’ to get me, or what?”

It was Tex.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“They’re lettin’ me out and won’t let me walk or take a taxi.”

I thought about this. He was at Denver Health and it was at least five miles from his house. Crazy Tex roaming the streets whacked out on pain killers did not sound like a peaceful afternoon for Denver.

Two more cop cars angled in, followed by a Channel 9 News van.

Great.

The pot jungle was going to be big news.

“When are they releasing you?” I asked Tex.

“Ten minutes ago.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I flipped the phone shut and Hank stared at me. “What now?”