Chapter 3
THREE
Ben drove his truck up his long driveway and slowed when the cruiser’s rollers kicked on. He parked directly behind the vehicle and kept the headlights on. In the glare he watched two men step out of the cruiser. The driver’s face was tight with rage.
“Police!” he shouted.
As if I couldn’t tell.
“Turn off your headlights now!”
Ben killed the headlights, sighed, and climbed out slowly, keeping his hands visible.
He watched the second officer hesitate the moment he got a good look at Ben’s size.
He looked at his partner but the other officer wasn’t intimidated.
Ben could see the driver’s red face even in the cold glare of his yard light as his eyes searched the passenger side of Ben’s truck, frowning when he realized Ben was alone.
The nametag on his uniform said Morrison.
“Benjamin Massey?” Morrison said, voice dripping with acid as his hand rested on his service weapon.
“That’s me. How can I help you?”
The other officer’s nametag read Keller. Ben recognized him from the drive-by earlier. “We’re here to search your vehicle and residence for controlled substances,” he said.
Ben snorted. “Controlled substances? Is that how you’re going to play this?”
“Where is she?” Morrison snarled.
There it was.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben said calmly.
“Bullshit!” Morrison’s face flushed red. “You think you can fuck my woman and get away with it?”
“Morrison,” his partner said in the same tone he might have used to calm an angry dog.
Ben kept his voice level and addressed Keller. “You aren’t searching anything without a warrant.”
Morrison stepped closer, his jaw clenched. “You got something to hide? Besides that ungrateful slut?”
“I’ve got rights. You have no proof of any misdeeds, you have no warrant, so we are done here.” Ben crossed his arms and stood in front of the driver side door.
Keller moved to flank Ben on the right. “Don’t make this difficult. Get out of the way and let us search your truck.”
“Where is she?” Morrison’s voice cracked with barely controlled fury. “Where’s Shelly?”
“Fuck you.”
Keller’s hand moved toward his gun. “Turn around. Hands on the truck.”
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s resisting arrest,” Keller said, grinning.
Ben’s expression didn’t change. “Your body cams off for a reason? Does that make it easier to plant false evidence?”
Morrison smirked. “Can’t record you claiming police misconduct when we find the fentanyl. Or when we kick your ass.”
There it was. The admission.
The tarp in the truck bed shifted. Shane sat up, phone held high, recording everything.
“Hey fellas,” Shane drawled as he jumped down from the truck bed. “Smile for the camera.”
Morrison spun, his hand at his holster—but he didn’t draw. Not with Shane’s phone capturing every move.
“That’s entrapment,” Morrison yelled.
Ben laughed. “Pot, meet kettle. And what his phone didn’t capture, my security cam did.”
“You son of a—” Morrison lunged at Ben, fist cocked back. Ben caught his wrist mid-swing, twisted, and slammed Morrison face-first against the truck with one smooth motion.
At the same time, Keller rushed Shane, but the former SWCC put him in an arm bar before the deputy could land a punch.
Behind them, tires crunched on gravel. Three trucks pulled up, followed by two more vehicles—George’s police SUV and a Boulder PD cruiser.
Bear, Elias, Waylon, and Gabe climbed out and spread into a loose perimeter.
From the Boulder cruiser emerged Officer Sylvie Hoff, George’s daughter, and her partner, Officer Carla DeVivo.
Morrison struggled against Ben’s hold. “Officer! These assholes assaulted us—”
“Dexter Morrison,” George said, his voice flat and official. “Wade Keller. You’re both under arrest.”
Morrison’s face went white. “What?”
“Just got off the phone with the sheriff. Turns out there’s fentanyl missing from evidence. And surveillance footage shows you in the evidence locker earlier today.” George nodded to Sylvie. “Officer Hoff will take it from here.”
Sylvie stepped forward, cuffs ready. “You have the right to remain silent.”
Morrison’s bravado crumbled. “This is bullshit. We didn’t—”
“Save it for IA,” George said. “And for the DA. You’re done.”
Ben released Morrison into Sylvie’s custody. Keller didn’t resist when Shane handed him over to Carla.
As Sylvie and Carla loaded the scumbags into their cruiser, George turned to Ben. “Your cameras get all that?”
“Every word.”
“Good. I’ll need a copy for evidence.” George paused. “Morrison’s landlord is meeting officers at his apartment right now. We’ll make sure Shelly gets her belongings back safe.”
Ben nodded, watching the cruiser pull away. Morrison stared out the window, his face a mask of impotent rage.
“Think that’s the end of it?” Shane asked, brushing dust off his cargos.
“For Shelly? Let’s hope so,” Ben said.
“I’ll make sure of it,” George said. He looked around at the band of brothers. “You boys have a nice evening.”
Ben turned to Shane. “I owe you lunch, brother.”
Shane scoffed. “For this? I know you’d do the same for me.”
I swear it to you upon my honor.
“Not just for this. And I think you know it.”
Ben walked into the Watchdog reception area at noon the next day and found Jodie at the front desk.
“Hey, Ben! What brings you here?” she asked with a bright smile.
“Just here to take Shane out to lunch. I owe him.”
“Oh, if you’re going out for burgers, bring me back some fries?” She batted her eyes at him.
Ben felt himself start to blush. It didn’t matter what woman it was. Didn’t matter if she was serious or kidding. Didn’t matter how long he’d known her. He lacked the confidence his brothers had around women.
“Sure,” Ben said. “I’d be happy to.”
“Great! I think Shane’s in his office. If not, he’s out with Alex and the dogs. Go on back.” She made a gesture like she was sweeping him further into the building.
Ben nodded. “Thanks, Jodie.”
Shane had offered to meet him at a restaurant in Lyons, but Ben wanted to check in on Shelly and make sure she was all right.
At least, that’s what he told himself as he started down the hall.
The offices could be a bit of a warren, and he wasn’t exactly sure where Shane’s office was, but he’d find him.
If not, he could ask. The place was full of people he knew.
Most of them friends, some just acquaintances.
And one very special lady.
Charlie King.
Just thinking her name did something wonderful to his belly. And, he had to admit, a place just south of his belly.
Charlie wasn’t only the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—though she absolutely was that, with her intense eyes that could pin a man at fifty yards and that smile that made his knees weak on the rare occasions she aimed it his way.
Just watching her put Shelly at ease the night before warmed his heart.
But it was more than that. Charlie was talented.
Brilliant, really. Fierce when she needed to be.
She could clear a room faster than most of his Ranger buddies and moved with a lethal grace that was somehow both terrifying and mesmerizing to watch.
She was someone he’d want at his back in a gunfight without hesitation.
Hell, she’d just had his back in a gunfight at Echo Ridge Ski Lodge.
When bullets were flying and the world had gone to hell, Charlie had been steady as a rock, professional and deadly and absolutely fearless.
Watching her intelligent face as she took in the plan Gina laid out.
Seeing her in action during the firefight—grace and power and bravery.
She had to be the bravest woman he’d ever met—
A sudden, unexpected sound stopped him.
Wait—is that Charlie…screaming?
Ben took off at a run down the hall. Where was she? What was going on? Something had to be seriously wrong. He’d never heard her scream. Had Morrison somehow breached Watchdog?
He turned the corner.
And there she was, standing in the middle of a cubicle maze. For some reason, he could see all the way down to her waist over a cubicle wall.
Wait. Charlie’s tall but not that tall, he thought. What’s going on?
She was in profile, looking down at something below her, with an expression of absolute terror on her face.
“Charlie!”
Her head whipped around in his direction. “Ben! Oh—ah—um—”
He ran to her. Rounding the aisle and reaching her cubicle, Ben discovered why she was so tall. Charlie was standing on an office chair.
Well, that explains the extra height.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“It’s—it’s—” She pointed at her desk.
Ben followed her finger. On her desk was a day planner, a laptop, some sticky notes, and a pen caddy. She was pointing at the pen caddy full of pens and pencils.
“You’re afraid of pens?”
“What, no! No, no. Look closer. Look on that one.” Her hand shook as she leaned forward and pointed.
Ben bent down and looked closer. A tiny jumping spider—fuzzy and as adorable as a kitten—sat on top of a pencil eraser, staring at him.
He grinned. “Hey, little guy.” He looked up at Charlie. “Congratulations, you’ve got yourself a pet jumping spider. Technically it’s a Phidippus audax, better known as the Bold Jumping Spider. And wow, he’s got yellow spots instead of the usual white—”
“Ben.”
“Yeah?”
“Please?”
Ben was absolutely confused. Charlie looked terrified. Was she messing with him? This was the same woman he’d watched take down two Russian oligarch henchmen with brutal efficiency.
But judging by her expression and the fact that she was standing precariously on an office chair, he was pretty sure she was serious.
“You’re telling me the warrior princess is afraid of an adorable, fuzzy little jumping spider?”
Charlie reared back. “What did you just call me?”
Oh God, I really overstepped. The words had just flowed out of him without thinking.
“Um. Warrior princess. Emphasis on warrior?” he added quickly.
Charlie blinked. Several times.