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“Oops,” Lula said. “Ignore that.”
The front was locked, so I waited for Lula to open the door for me. She was smiling wide
when she let me in.
“You're not gonna believe this,” she said. "We hit the jackpot on this one. We must have
died and gone to heaven, and no one told us."
I stepped into a small foyer constructed of raw wall-board. A door opened off the foyer,
and beyond the door was cannabis. The house was a pot farm. Grow lights, silver reflective walls, fans and vents, and racks and more racks of shelves filled with plants in various stages
of growth.
'Wait until you see the dining room,“ Lula said. ”They got primo shit growing in the dining
room."
I gave her a raised eyebrow.
“Not that I would know,” Lula said.
“There's weed sticking out of the pockets of your jacket.”
“I gathered some evidence on my way through the house.”
“I assume you didn't see any Hansens?”
"No, but there's a car back there. And the back door to the house was open. I wouldn't be
surprised there's someone hiding in here."
“Do we have to worry about them getting away in the car?”
“No. Someone shot a hole in the right front tire.”
I locked and bolted the front door, and Lula and I began working our way through the
house.
“You go first and open the doors, and I'll be behind you with my gun,” Lula said. "I'd go
first, but it's hard to hold a gun and open a door. I want to be able to concentrate on the gun.
It's not like I'm afraid or anything."
“Just don't shoot me in the back.”
“Have I ever shot you? Honest to goodness, you'd think I didn't know what I was doing.” We searched the living room, dining room, and kitchen.
“At least these boys are neat,” Lula said. "They got their empty beer bottles all lined up.
Guess that's so they have room in here for planting the little seedlings and weighing and
bagging. And they got a nice digital scale here. You could see they put some thought to this.“ I poked around in the collection of pots and pans and bottles and jars by the stove. ”Looks
like they have a science experiment going on. Alcohol, coffee filters, ether.“ ”These guys are nuts,“ Lula said. ”They're making hash oil. You could turn yourself into a
