CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Riley’s teeth were clenched as she drove down through the mountains, away from the Thorpe Overlook and Crayfish Creek Campground. She was furious with herself.
“Stupid,” she growled under her breath. “I was so stupid.”
Crivaro chuckled from the passenger seat. “What are you complaining about? We caught a bad guy, didn’t we? And it was your doing.”
It was all Riley could do not to explode with anger.
She replied, “We caught some ordinary dork, Agent Crivaro—a stupid, harmless guy who happened to have a stash of pot that he didn’t know how to get rid of.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Crivaro’s shrug.
“Well, the last I heard, pot’s illegal,” Crivaro said. “Especially smuggling and selling it. Although I hear tell that might change one of these days,
