Page 8 of Armed ’N’ Ready

“Possibly.” Nick closed the folder. “But the subpoena requested records going back five years, and there was only one transaction between Myer’s tainted account and one of Andi’s accounts. If she’s his accomplice, I would have expected to see more than one.”

“Agreed.” Cox nodded. “We’ll have to ask her about that. No matter her answer, she won’t be happy when she finds out what we did to her account. The court order was served on her bank yesterday just before closing.”

“That oughta get her attention.” Of that, he had no doubt.

It sure looked like she was Myer’s accomplice, but he’d learned long ago that not everything was what it seemed, and people weren’t always who you thought they were. Some kept their personal torment carefully hidden beneath a veneer of happiness.

Until it’s too late to help them. He knew that firsthand.

He tossed the folder on the table then stood, preparing to storm upstairs and throw Ms. Hardt over his shoulder, regardless of whether she was dressed or not.

Calm your ass down.

Just because she triggered all his switches was no reason to behave like a total dick and make a fool of himself. He clicked his mic. “Malloy. Where is she?”

Malloy came back instantly, only not over the radio. “Right here, Sarge.”

His—and every other man’s—eyes were riveted to the stairs. The room went totally silent as Andi Hardt glided down the staircase with what Nick could only describe as a combination of athletic grace and royal bearing. On anyone else, the khaki shorts and blue tank he’d grabbed for her would have looked drab. On her it was alluring. With her blond hair braided and a few wispy strands escaping around her high cheekbones, Daisy Duke had nothing on her.

Again, get your head out of your ass.

She was a suspect and most likely a player in a major money laundering scheme. On top of that, she was sleeping in Myer’s house and was probably his girlfriend, his accomplice, or both. Whichever one it was, he’d get the truth out of her, including finding out where Myer was holing up.

A few steps from the bottom, she paused. Cornflower-blue eyes looked straight at him. When she quickly averted her gaze, he detected a faint blush on her high cheekbones, and he understood why.

Unlike the other men in the room, he was the only one who’d seen her practically naked.

Chapter Two

At the bottom of the stairs, eight sets of male heads turned to Andi, although only two men stood when she entered the dining room—one wearing a dark blue shirt that said Federal Agent on the front, and Sgt. Nicholas Houston.

When she met his penetrating gray eyes, her face heated. Groaning inwardly, she wondered if he’d regaled the rest of the cops and agents in the house about discovering her in the shower. They probably assumed she’d been totally nude.

Reality check.

With that itty-bitty bikini, she might as well have been naked. Though she hated to admit it, he’d exhibited surprising chivalry by preventing his colleagues from storming into the bathroom before she could cover herself.

“Miss Hardt,” the agent said as he indicated the chair Sgt. Houston had vacated. “I’m FBI Special Agent Randy Cox. Please, have a seat.”

Crossing her arms, she gave his proposition some thought. “Am I under arrest?” Couldn’t hurt to ask that question again.

“No,” he said without hesitation, alleviating only a speck of her mounting unease. “You’re free to leave at any time, but we’d appreciate your cooperation.”

“What kind of cooperation?” She moved closer to the dining room table and found the other officers in the room watching her with obvious curiosity. “I’m not sure I want to answer any questions until you tell me exactly what’s going on and why you have a search warrant for this house.”

“Fair enough.” Cox sat, then beckoned her again to do the same.

Reluctantly, she did. Next to the chair lay the giant black K-9, although the dog’s head remained on the floor. The animal’s only movement was a flick of his golden gaze in her direction.

He really is beautiful. Resisting the urge to run her fingers through the thick black coat, she refocused on her predicament.

These men were being extremely evasive, but she’d play their game. At least long enough to get some answers. Not that she would automatically believe anything that came from their mouths. She’d learned the hard way to exercise more caution before trusting people. The one time she hadn’t, she’d nearly been burned to a crisp.

She noted Sgt. Houston remained standing behind her, and she felt his presence like the grim reaper waiting for her to drop dead so he could collect her soul. Something about him unnerved her, and it wasn’t because of the awkward way they’d met. He was trying to intimidate her, and it was working.

No, it’s more than that. It’s him. He was way too masculine and unyielding.

Like a solid brick wall.