Not that I’m surprised,she thought irritably.Since more than half of these assholes used tobemilitary.
Okay, maybe it was unfair to paint the Black Knights in broad strokes with the asshole brush. Especially since, previously, they’d been nothing but respectful.Helpfuleven.
Of course, their earlier aid was probably why their sudden uncooperativeness rankled so much. She didn’t like one-eighties from people she thought she could…maybe nottrust.She didn’t know the Black Knights well enough to trust them. But she’d credited them with good intentions, presumed their candidness, and thought they’d come to regard her well enough to…
Answer my damn questions when I ask them!
But they’d been a united front of ignorance since she posed her first inquiry. Even when she’d called Britt’s number—which she’d found thanks to the tech guys back in the office—and the cell phone in Eliza’s pocket had jangled to life, all Eliza had done was frown at the phone and say,“How odd. How did Britt’s phone get in there?”
How indeed?Julia had thought angrily.
Seriously, if she’d been a teapot, steam would’ve poured from her ears while a piercing whistle sounded through her nose.
“So you have no idea where Britt Rollins might be.” She sucked on her teeth as she stared daggers at the gathered group across from her. “What about Hewitt Birch? I can’t help noticing he’s missing, too.”
It was Eliza who answered with a shrug. “Everyone who lives and works here is free to come and go as they please. No one is keeping tabs on anyone.”
“And if I were to have my tech guys find Mr. Birch’s cell phone number and I called it, would it also ring in one of your pockets?”
Eliza blinked innocently. “I suppose you won’t know until you try.”
Homicide.Julia suddenly understood the urge to commit it.
“We’ve checked every closet, every corner, and under every bed,” Agent Maddox said as he swept into the room. His mussed hair and crooked tie were visual reminders of the exhaustive search they’d done inside the three-story factory building over the span of the last two hours. They’d also turned the little foreman’s cottage out front upside down and inside out with the same amount of luck, which wasnone. “No sign of Knox Rollins or his brother. But we’ve confiscated a shit-ton of weapons.”
Maddox came to stand behind Julia’s chair. She could smell his cologne. It wasn’t as exotic and spicy as Britt’s, but it was still quite lovely in an understated way that didn’t excite her ovaries the least little bit.
Stop thinking about Britt Rollins’s cologne, you horny idiots!she silently cursed said ovaries. And then, for good measure, she added some good advice for herself.And you! Start thinking about what you can use against these people to make them talk!
Even if she hadn’t had video evidence proving Knox Rollins and the mystery woman had entered the building, Julia would’ve known the BKI employees were lying to her. Now that she wasn’t distracted by Britt’s disruptive sex appeal, she could smell the deceit in the air. It hung over the group like a caustic cloud, tickling her instincts and grating on her last nerve.
Athumpsounded overhead, causing Frank “Boss” Knight’s jaw to harden. The noise from above announced loud and clear that her colleagues weren’t exactly beingcarefulin their search of the premises. Julia had felt bad about that in the beginning.
Now, when Boss pinned her with a jaundiced look that said without words,“Aren’t you going to do something about that?”all she did was shrug.
If he wasn’t going to be helpful, neither was she.
Tit for tat. Turnabout is fair play. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, etcetera.
He uncrossed his massive arms and pushed away from where he’d been leaning against the counter.
Frank “Boss” Knight was what she’d call aserious character—you know, if she was prone to understatement. She didn’t suspect it would be a pleasant experience to be on the receiving end of his ire, and she braced herself accordingly.
But before he could say anything, his wife—who had arrived on the scene thirty minutes after Julia waved her warrant under the noses of the onsite employees—placed a restraining hand on his arm.
He obligingly stepped back to re-lean against the countertop. Becky patted his shoulder, offering him a soft smile, and it was sort of like watching a kitten comfort a silverback gorilla.
“What do a bunch of motorcycle mechanics need with so many weapons?” Maddox asked, glancing between Julia and the line of BKI employees.
“As I’m sure your colleague has told you,” Boss rumbled, sounding like he ate gravel for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, “we’re all former military. Once you get used to wearing a sidearm, you feel naked without one.” The man’s steely gaze landed on the shoulder holster visible beneath Maddox’s jacket. “You understand, right?”
Before Maddox could answer, Becky piped up. “Every weapon in this place was legally purchased and is permitted. You have no right to confiscate them.”
Her cheeks were flushed bright red. But Julia got the impression her heightened color wasn’t a result of fear or nervousness. It was a result of her barely controlled rage.
Becky Knight was the embodiment of Shakespeare’s line:though she be but little she is fierce.
“And last I heard,” Eliza added, looking as cool and unbothered as ever, “this is still the U.S. of A. We still have Second Amendment rights.”
