If she did have a head injury, things could go south, quickly.
“We’re going to need you to step out of the car, ma’am.”
“Ma’am,” she purred and Harmony barely held off a laugh.
Apparently, the woman was finally letting words through into her head.
“You don’t have to be mean, handsome. I’m barely into my twenties.”
Harmony’s mouth thinned into a tight line. She wasn’t an expert on aging, but the woman in the car was likely well into her thirties. Why lie about it?
Every birthday that Harmony had was a good one. It meant that she’d made it another year, relatively unscathed.
Maybe a little more jaded under the surface, but still kicking.
“Ma’am. I am now giving you a lawful order to step out of your car.”
“Lawful…” The woman sighed. “Isn’t it strange how lawful sounds like awful?”
Harmony saw Crois lift an eyebrow at that. “Ma’am. I’ve asked you to get out of the car. And then I’ve told you to get out of the car. If you don’t do that then I’m going to have tomakeyou get out of the car.”
Harmony felt his hand against her hip, gently nudging her to the side.
A quick look down told her that she was in the way of the door.
If Crois was going to open the door and pull the woman out he didn’t need her to block the door.
As she looked up, Harmony saw Pilar a step or two away, pulling on her gloves.
“Goodness,” Harmony murmured under her voice. This was going to happen.
“Ma’am?”
She leaned on the open window of her car door and smiled up at Crois. “I’ll get out if you’ll frisk me,” she blinked a few times, but instead of being flirtatious, it looked like her upper lids were too heavy to do it easily. Making her look as though her face was slower than it should be. “Or,” she giggled, and the sound was a little sour, “you could bend me over your police car and…rough me up.”
The woman reached a hand out of the window. It looked like she was aiming to trail her fingers along his arm, but before she could reach that far, PIlar’s gloved hand grasped her wrist and held on tight.
Crois tugged on the handle of the car door, and it opened a moment later.
The woman inside almost spilled out onto the pavement, but it was Crois’ quick reflexes that saved her from scratching her pretty face on the asphalt.
It wasn’t easy after that.
Instead of complying, the woman went limp like a toddler.
Harmony had seen this particular method of avoiding things in children, not a full grown woman.
“Come on,” Crois grumbled, “stand up.”
With her hair over her face, the woman laughed and flailed. “Why don’t you carry me? Like… like a princess!” She lifted her head and her hair flipped back from her face. One messy lock of her hair was caught in her mouth.
Harmony grimaced at the sight.
She didn’t like spit.
It made her skin crawl.
Blood? Other bodily fluids? All fine.
