Excerpt from book 2 of the drug bust series I am currently writing:
“You’re asking if you can search our home in the middle of the night, without a warrant, wearing bullet proof vests and carrying rifles? What the hell is this crap?” “Connor—” his wife starts to calm him down. “Standard procedure, sir.” “What the hell?” Connor said again. “Let’s get this over with, so some of us can get some sleep tonight. You can search the house.” The emphasis on house wasn’t lost on me. A common sense interpretation of house means rooms and closets, not anything outside these walls. No garage, no backyard or shed, and no vehicles. The door opens wider and the search is on. No one warns the home owner that he doesn’t have to consent, but if Andrews emphasis on house is any indication of his intelligence, I’m guessing he knows he doesn’t have to consent. So why does he? Agents fan out, but our lead guy stays right in front of the home owner. “Anyone else at home?’ "No,” the woman on the stairs answers. Quickly. Too quickly if anyone had asked me. “I don’t believe you,” our lead guy replies. I inhale slow and turn my attention to lead guy. His name is Alec Hardgrove, if I remember correctly. Alec turns to me and Dex, the closest two men to him and gestures toward the stairs. The woman on the stairs holds her ground and crosses her arms. “No one else is here. Just do your damn search and get the fuck out.” My brows pinch together. Something is going on here and I have no fucking clue what. My shoulders itch and sweat beads my forehead. Two of my tells that has my back up. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck. Dex makes a soothing gesture with his left hand. “We’ll check it out. Ma’am, step aside.” “Avery,” Connor Andrews says to the woman, trying to calm her. “Just do as they ask and get our lawyer on the phone. Someone will pay for this.” The woman named Avery holds her ground for another long second. She huffs and uncrosses her arms. “Our daughter is sleeping and if you wake her and scare her, you will answer to me. You got that?” This is one angry mama I do not want to tangle with. But as I look at her, she backs off. Maybe seeing something she can trust in my expression. Although I have no fucking clue what. My face is streaked with black camouflage paint. My body as big as a gorilla. Some of my ink is visible up the side of my neck. I don’t always mean to, but I scare the piss out of men and women alike. Rich house. Princess upstairs. Don’t wake her. Check. I’ve got it. Mama bear moves then, her lightweight pink robe swishing around her legs as she glares at us and then heads down the hall. Dex jerks his head and we start upstairs. He takes the rooms on the right. I stride down the hall and head toward the closed door at the end. With the door closed, I feel this must be the young lady’s room. I’m willing to see how this plays out. I feel like Dex and his department are being used. Dex knows it too. Without a warrant, why were we instructed to watch the house for over an hour in the middle of the fucking night, before going up to the house and asking for permission to search? It didn’t add up. I gently turn the knob. The bedroom beyond is pitch black. I flick on my flashlight and step forward, not making a sound. “Hello?” I call out, voice low. “Anyone in here? Hey, Princess. Time to wake up for a little chat.” No answer. I flick my light carefully over the room, seeing the open luggage tossed on the floor, clothes spilling out. Next to the bed sat an oversize gray purse, also open, as if dropped in a hurry. The room doesn’t look like a princess lives here. No frills. No lace. No stuffed animals. No high heels. No hordes of make-up strewn across the dresser. I frown. The room actually doesn’t look lived in. I flick my light again. To the bed. The lightweight blanket is pulled back. A woman is draped across the rumpled sheet. Face down. Her left leg is straight, her right leg bent and drawn up high, thigh down against the bed. Her ass is half bare, a navy thong visible beneath a wash-worn long, summer tank. Fuck me. She has impressive ink halfway down her left arm. Dark wavy hair curls over her shoulders and halfway down her back. She lays unmoving and I frown again. How does anyone sleep like that? As if they were dead? I’d already be on my feet. Fists up. My light moves down her body again. Damn. She’s so fine. Her little ass plump and toned. Her bent leg moves. Straightens. She flips over and points a little handgun right at me. “Seen enough?” she asks. My first thought is: my badass weapon is bigger than her little gun. Second thought: should have been watching where her hands were.