Without evidence, speculation is just that—idle talk.
“Hunter, you're gonna have to play it cool with this one. Stirring the pot without any proof won't help you get back at whoever's trying to do you dirty.”
Hunter nodded, though he was clearly struggling to wrap his head around it all. “How could something like this even happen?”
“Patrick, take a breather, man. Keep your head on straight.”
Hunter understood, familiar as he was with the Harrison family drama. They'd weathered storms before; this was just another squall.
“Hunter, I'll take these samples back with me. Keep up with your meds, and call me if anything comes up.”
Hunter gave a nod of gratitude. “Josie, thanks a bunch. I meant to give you a welcome gift last time, but the craftsman dropped the ball. Got it sorted now, though. Hope you like it.”
No sooner had he finished than his bodyguard stepped in, carrying a box.
After setting it down, the bodyguard left, and Hunter pushed the box towards Josefina.
“Josie, it's just a small token. You've gotta accept it.”
Josefina glanced at Grandpa Robert, feeling hesitant.
With a nod from him, she accepted. “Thank you, Hunter.”
Opening it, she found a hefty gold bar, easily weighing over thirty pounds.
“Patrick, this is way too generous,” Grandpa Robert chuckled.
“Drake, it's the least I can do. Josie saved my life. Without her, I'd be six feet under. And what good is money to the dead?”
Josefina interjected, “Grandpa, Hunter, I need to take these samples back for analysis. You guys catch up.”
Grandpa Robert added, “I should head out too. My parrot's waiting for its dinner.”
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