Ill Take Forever

again.

    ***
    Shasta quickly learned his territory and would roam the area around the home when let out, never going far, always returning promptly when Jenny called. They enjoyed hiking further from home. Jenny was glad to get out in the fresh air and glad for a companion on her walks. She was healthier and more fit than ever.
    Her phone was ringing when Jenny got home one day from an excursion. She dashed in to grab it, slightly out of breath.
    'Is this Jenny Warwick?' an unknown voice inquired.
    'Yes. Who is this?'
    'Stuart Brownley. We've never met, Mrs. Warwick. I'll be in Palmer this afternoon and wondered if you could spare me a few minutes of your time. I work for the US Justice Department.'
    'Is this the IRS?' Quickly she reviewed tax filings she’d done on behalf of her clients. None were complicated or questionable. Was it a random audit?
    He chuckled. 'No, Mrs. Warwick. The Treasury Department has that responsibility. This is a different matter. May I stop by and see you?'
    Jenny was perplexed. She had no idea why someone from the Justice Department would want to see her. If she wasn't going to be audited by the IRS, what could it be?
    'What is this about, Mr. Brownley?'
    'I would rather explain in person, if it's all right with you.'
    'I guess so. I'll be in all afternoon. Do you know where I live?'
    'Yes. I’ll be there before three.'
    Jenny hung up slowly. If this was a legitimate call, why come to her? Wouldn't they ask her to come to their offices? She looked at Shasta, glad she had him for protection. Though, it was unlikely a robber would call to make an appointment.
    Shortly after two-thirty, a nondescript black sedan pulled into her driveway, stopping close to the house. Jenny watched from the front window as the man walked up to her door. He was of average height, brown hair, brown suit. Brownley suited him.
    Shasta barked and ran to the door. Jenny followed.
    She opened the door to his knock, instructing Shasta to sit at her left knee. The dog obeyed immediately, his eyes intently watching the visitor.
    'Mrs. Warwick?' The man looked surprised.
    'Yes. You're Mr. Brownley?'
    'Yes, I am. Sorry if I looked startled. I'm afraid I was expecting someone a little older; I understood that you were a widow. May I come in?' Brownley drew his wallet from his pocket, flipping it open. 'My identification.'
    Jenny took it and read the card. He looked very like his picture. She handed it back.
    'Your information’s correct, I am a widow. What can I do for you, Mr. Brownley?' she asked a couple of moments later when they were seated in the living room. Shasta kept watch as he lay at Jenny’s feet.
    'I'll come straight to the point. I represent the DEA the arm of Justice that investigates drug abuse in the United States. My particular area is marijuana in California. I'm sure you've read about the large areas under cultivation.'
    Jenny nodded. 'I thought it was mostly in Mendocino County, though.'
    'There’s a lot there, unfortunately. No sooner do we clear out a farm than another one pops up. Other areas, too. We've reason to suspect it’s being grown around here. Either on private land or in the El Dorado National Forest. What we want to do is infiltrate the area to try to pinpoint where it’s being grown and by whom.'
    'What do you expect from me? I don't know anyone growing marijuana. I don't even know what it looks like.'
    'Well, I'm glad to hear that.' He smiled briefly. 'Actually, the department would like to have one of our men here on site. What we need, however, is a cover. Small towns are notorious for being suspicious of newcomers. Rather than take years to build a background, to gain acceptance, we were hoping an established resident could provide the cover we need.'
    'Why me?'
    'Your house is rather isolated. Easier for our man to come and go as he pleases without nosy neighbors wondering what he's up to. You and your family have been residents of Palmer for generations, respected, well liked. Anyone you vouch for will be accepted.'
    She narrowed her eyes as she studied the man. It was all true. Should she cooperate? It was hard to imagine any of her neighbors involved in the drug trade. 'And the cover story?'
    Brownley looked at her for a long moment. 'A visiting cousin?'
    'I don't have any cousins. Everyone in town knows both my parents were only children. I'm an only child.' She thought a moment. 'Maybe a son of an old school-friend of my mom's. She has several friends from other areas