Page 132 of Axe-identally Married
He took a step toward her, which spurred me into action. I stepped closer, growling. No one looked at my wife like that.
“I don’t want to have to arrest you too, Dr. Savard,” the chief bit out.
Willa smiled. “That won’t be necessary. Now please leave my property.”
He looked around at the crowd, who was unmoved by his threats. “I’ll arrest you all.”
“You can’t arrest us,” Merry said, stepping forward. “We haven’t broken any laws, and we’re on private property. And my mom,who is standing right there”—she jabbed a finger toward Finn’s ex—“is a lawyer.”
Alicia crossed her arms, gazing proudly at her teen daughter.
Merry lifted her chin. “So you should probably leave.”
“Yeah,” the girls shouted in unison.
“Get out of here,” Kali hollered.
“And find the bad guys who did it,” Goldie added. “Not our coach.”
There was no wiping the smile from my face, despite the real possibility that this asshole was going to haul me in.
“You should go home,” Souza bit out. “This is no place for little girls.”
I almost laughed. If this man only knew what little girls were capable of.
“Our coach taught us that we’re stronger as a team. So we’re not going anywhere,” Goldie declared.
The chief’s face was getting redder by the moment, and his deputies were looking around, frowning, without a clue as to how to handle this situation.
In front of me, Willa popped up on her tiptoes and waved. The crowd in the driveway parted, and a black suburban pulled in.
The doors opened, and several men in dark suits exited.
“Agent Portnoy.” Willa smiled. “Right on time.”
He strode through the crowd, wearing an expression so inscrutable, it would be easy to believe the guy was here to pick up his dry cleaning rather than interrupt a standoff between a rural police chief and a gang of elementary school girls with hockey sticks.
“John Souza,” he said, a brow cocked at the angry man who had just threatened a crowd of children. He held up a badge. “Agent Portnoy, Federal Bureau of Investigation. I need to ask you a few questions.”
Chief Souza glared at him. “I’m here to make an arrest. It can wait.”
He stepped in front of him, blocking me from view. “I’m afraid you are not.”
“I have a warrant,” he said, holding up the paper.
“Not anymore. I just got off the phone with Judge Quimby. Since you lied on the affidavit, this warrant is invalid.”
He took it out of his hand, tore it neatly twice, and then let the paper flutter to the ground.
“And like I said, we’d like you to come with us.”
Another handful of federal agents had stepped out of a second SUV and were milling around, totally conspicuous in their identical dark suits, earpieces, and sunglasses.
One big, beefy guy crossed his arms and grunted. That finally got the chief moving.
“Shame on you,” Bernice yelled as he headed toward the blacked-out Suburbans.
Others followed.
