Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
She set a beat-up backpack on the ground next to her and staged an empty forty-ounce bottle of Busch beer nearby on the curb.
All she was missing was a stolen grocery cart overflowing with clothes and household items. She wanted to appear like a homeless drug addict but she drew the line on actually committing a crime to do so.
She hoped like hell Crew would arrive at his normal time and didn’t have to be anywhere else this morning. She didn’t want to do this all over again tomorrow. She also wanted to avoid any other members of either the federal task force or the Blue Avengers.
Luckily, the man she planned on ambushing was a bit anal and normally arrived long before 0800 hours.
Hearing a Harley cruising down the alley, she blew out a relieved breath when she saw it was Crew riding at an unhurried pace.
His mirrored sunglasses immediately landed on her as he got closer, slowed down, then stopped in front of the gate. He would need to get off his bike to open it, but he remained straddling his motorcycle, with deep creases marring his brow.
She remained where she was, bobbing her head back and forth to appear drunk or high, but kept her eyes tipped up just enough to watch his every move without being too obvious.
This needed to be convincing. She needed to prove that she had the skill to go undercover.
To show him that she was damn good at her job.
That he needed to have faith in her so she could do that job.
She was not a piece of dust that could be swept under the rug and hidden away. She was a fucking Navy veteran who graduated top of her class from the DEA academy.
She was fucking capable.
He just needed to take those goddamn mirrored sunglasses off and see that.
She took another deep breath to calm her annoyance.
Now to test her ability with makeup and acting…
The second he dismounted from his bike, she rose shakily to her feet. She grabbed the fence behind her to steady her fake weaving.
He didn’t move to open the gate, instead he continued to observe her. She could see his stance widen a little bit and his shoulders pull back in preparation of whatever was to come next.
He was on the defensive since he was unsure of the situation.
And rightly so.
He should be suspicious of anyone hanging around the gate of a building that housed a federal task force. Any DEA agent worth his weight in salt would.
She had heard good things about Colin Crew before joining the team. From both her father and Bob Williams.
The man before her was a good agent, had closed plenty of high-profile cases in his career and was well-respected throughout the agency.
Even though he came off as a bit of a jerk.
She took a few wobbly steps in his direction, keeping her face tipped down to hide her identity a little better. Since she needed to pull this off successfully, every step, every body movement, was calculated.
When she was only a few feet away, she disguised her voice by dropping it an octave and making it sound as rough as possible. She also added a slight slur for good measure. “Hey, maaaaan, got any spare change?”
He considered her carefully with his lips pursed and his head tilted to the side before answering, “No. Sorry.”
“How ‘bout a job? I can do aaaaaaanything you need.”
“Don’t have that for you, either.”
She jerked her head toward the fence, then pretended to lose her balance. “Whoa! Almost fucking ate it there… What’s behind the gate?”
“Nothing.” His dark eyebrows peppered with a few grays pinned together. “How’d you get to this area? Did you drive here?”
She shook her head and rolled back and forth on her toes slightly, so she’d look wasted. “Got dropped off here.”
“Who dropped you off?”
She jerked up her shoulders. “Dunno. Was hitchhiking and some rando picked me up. Didn’t question it, just a… a… ppreciated the ride.” She took a few steps closer so he could pick up the mix of alcohol and urine she had liberally sprinkled on her clothes.
She’d owe Fletch a new bottle of whiskey and Murphy an apology.
“Come ooooon. Just need a few bucks, man. Just to get me to tomorrow.” She hacked a few times in his direction, not covering her mouth.
She struggled not to laugh at his expression. If she did, she’d blow it.
“For what?” he asked, the corners of his mouth pulled down.
“Food, man. Gotta eat. Haven’t eaten since… Hell, don’t even remember the last time.”
“I can grab you food.”
“Nah. I can get my own. Just need the money.”
His eyebrows rose so high she could see them peeking over his sunglasses. “So, not for food.”
“C’mon, man, I’ll do aaaaanything for it.” She moved even closer and when he stepped backwards, the backs of his legs hit his bike. She took advantage of that and grabbed him by the jacket, pushing herself against him from chest to hip. “Look… I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever you’re into.”