I couldn't seek damages for calling my clients "drug dealers" but they could. The sad part was, with the exception of Lauren Wells, he was right. They...were drug dealers – either in the past or in the present.I tried reason, writing to the guy and telling him that none of the words he used to describe me were accurate and that he was using cases half a dozen years in the past to make his point.He pointed out that my last two clients had been drug cases and both had been thrown out of court "on. “You’re both sure?”“Without a doubt, young man. Perfectly sure!” Jim affirmed. Mike smiled, his eyes flashing to Graydon that he was being foolish to doubt himself.“Okay. Who’s driving?”Mike laughed; Jim suppressed a guffaw. Ever since Graydon had gotten his driver’s license he was eager to drive, especially a longer trip like the hundred-mile run down the Methow River highway to Wenatchee.“Uh... “ Graydon hesitated. “I came for something else,” he blurted. “I think we’ve got a problem, or .... I slowed down, tried to catch my breath. Hopefully he wouldn't be there already. I had never not been in the bungalow when he came for me. No idea what would happen if I wasn't. On the other hand, he had never threatened me. So maybe it was not a big deal.My heart sank as I came nearer and saw him leaning against the wall. Still panting, my body sweaty and covered in shed dog hairs I reached him, muttered a breathless “Sorry, Sir”.My owner nodded curtly, opened the door for me.“You've been. I rounded the corner of the stables only to find all the doors closed and no one around . As I turned to leave a lit pissed off I herd a voice from inside .I tried the door it was open I stepped inside pulling it closed behind me expecting to find my mate or his dad . I looked up and just froze there in front of me was Margaret a woman I'd seen visit the stables a couple of times but only sat in her old van from a distance. There she was ten ft in front of me . Marge was a mature woman of about.