“I’m not sure where you’re getting your info from,” Castello shrugged,
“but you might want to find a new source.”
The cop’s fists clenched and unclenched at his side, irritation clear on his face. “Do you want to explain the broken light fixture and the hole in the window?”
Castello jerked his chin at Zack. “My brother has a lousy darts throw.”
The cop’s brow lifted in what Axel had to assume was disbelief. He got it—he probably wouldn’t have believed it either. But damn, these two could give the Hell’s Eagles a lesson in keeping your cool under pressure.
“Are you telling me that damage was caused by an accident?”
“I’m telling you right now there were no guns fired in this house.”
Castello growled, “We were in the garage, my brother,” he waved at Zack,
“as you can see was in the shower.”
Castello’s cell phone chose that minute to ring, the music making the cops jump and Zack grin. “Boss, that will be the General.”
“Who the fuck is the General?” the chief of police frowned. “If y’all are bringing a 1% club to my town, I’m telling you now that I won’t tolerate it.”
Seriously, how the fuck was this idiot in his position? 1% club. Castello snorted, “I’m just reaching for my cell, I do not want to piss off General Buchanan.” The music blaring from his pocket stopped playing for a second before it started again. “Shit, that’s my Boss, and we have got to answer.”
Castello told the Chief. He could play the submissive, willing to follow orders guy like a damn champion. Hell, he had done it for years in the military.
“Answer it,” the Chief gestured to the man behind him, “If he pulls a weapon. shoot him.” To Castello he ordered, “On speaker.”
Castello nodded and pulled his phone out of his ass pocket. “General Buchanan, Sir, I apologize for making you wait.”
“What is going on down there, son?”A voice growled through the phone.“When I call, you answer. Period.”
Zack mouthed, “Shit, he’s pissed.”
“We got a problem, Sir—” Castello started to say, but was cut off by the Chief of Police.
“Who the fuck is this?”
The sound of an indrawn breath was clearly audible through the speakers.“Excuse me, who the hell are you?”
“I’m Chief of Police Sorensen,” the man’s chest puffed up as he told the general who he was. “Our reports say that your man here is a—”
“I don’t give a shit what your reports say,”the general growled.
“Unless you’ve got a warrant to be talking to my men, you’d best backyour fucking ass up before I get Jag down there. I’m sure they’d have afield day with this.”
“But,” the chief’s jaw clenched, and he huffed out a breath.
“Leave now and I will consider not calling the state offices tocomplain about your ass.”
“No.”
“Um, Sir?” The cop behind Sorensen attempted to get his Boss’
attention. “That really is General Buchanan.”
“What?”
“ThatisGeneral Buchanan,” the cop repeated. “My wife is stationed at Fort Bragg, and I’ve heard his voice enough to recognize it.”
