Making Sure The Cover is Not Blown

John was glad that his daughter hadn’t seen him, however he couldn’t have her compromising his secret dealings. That was too close. He could not risk any exposure. His clientele relied on his secure business operations. He shrugged off his wife’s pleas to go back to bed and left the house.

He went to work in the hot house, hanging up the harvested plants. Then as he took out the last storage bag of the previous harvest to separate it into smaller bags for sale, he heard a familiar rap on the door.

“How much?” he asked. The stooped old hag shoved an envelope at John. John counted the bills. Then he returned with one of his larger baggies. “Only the best for Big Mama.”

She took the bag, opened it, and sniffed at the contents. Satisfied, she hid it under her cloak somewhere. John never could figure out where.

He felt relief that she didn’t suspect anything amiss tonight. This business deal was as quiet as ever; Mama Maggie never spoke. He closed up and went to bed, knowing he’d have to keep an eye on JoAnn.

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