She might need marijuana to fight the nausea from the chemotherapy treatments. And where would a cancer patient go first in this town to look for weed?

To Sam, of course. The same place they would go for everything else illegal they might want.

I sit back and rub my tired eyes.

He’s digging a hole for himself that is only going to be harder and harder to crawl out of. Illegal cigarettes, alcohol, guns, and now marijuana added to the list.

I feel like grabbing him by the neck and shaking some sense into him. The Steel Infidels are involved in too much shit, and Sam’s head will be the first one on the chopping block when this all goes down.

He has a good business going with the tattoo shop and would be fine if that’s all he did. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around why the Steel Infidels are risking everything. The profit from their businesses must be tremendous if they’re willing to go to prison. They all lead simple lives and never make big purchases, so I’m clueless.

The woman stays inside the shop for a full hour before leaving. I watch through the binoculars as Sam walks her to the door and waves goodbye. She steps outside on the sidewalk and takes three steps before turning around and going back. He’s still standing in the doorway and she reaches up to hug his neck.

No, that’s not weird at all.

Customers always hug their drug dealers.

What in the world is going on with him?

I’m mystified.

There’s too much about Sam that I don’t know.

Chapter Ten

Sam

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I’m pacing back and forth in the shop, still fuming over Lila placing the bug, when a potential customer walks in.

I walk over to greet her. “Hazel, you’re back.”

She nods and tries to smile. Taking a deep breath, she says, “I’m ready to talk about it. For real this time.”

“Great. Come on back to the private room.”

Hazel follows me back to the room where I do the tattoos. She looks a little stronger than the last time I saw her. Still pale, but she’s put on a few pounds, which is good. A red scarf hides the fact that all of her hair has fallen out due to chemotherapy.

I point to a chair and she sits down.

“Are you still doing chemo?” I ask.

“No, I’m done. For good I hope.”

“I hope so too.”

She’s uncomfortable. I don’t blame her since I know how hard this is on the women.

“Okay, first off, you’re going to have to show me,” I say. “And then I’ll tell you what your options are.”

Hazel reaches up to undo the top button of her shirt and stops. Her eyes fill with tears.