Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Or the constant touchy-feely shit going on between you two,” Cross added with a smirk.
“He’s oblivious.” Crew came over and dropped onto the couch next to Finn. “I think the question is: what the hell does she see in Prince Harry here?” The DEA agent slapped Finn’s chest hard, making him fold forward and grunt.
Finn rubbed the point of impact. “Fuck off.”
“It has to be those double-jointed hips.” Decker, sitting to Finn’s right, lifted his own hips off the couch and humped the air a few times. “I gotta say, I’m a bit envious.”
“If you need help, I’m sure my mom can teach you to move your hips like a pro.”
“Are you saying your mom’s a cougar?” Decker growled like a big cat and clawed the air.
“You’re not her type.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she likes men more intelligent. Not muscle-bound meatheads like you.”
“She’s been a dancer most of her life. I bet she’s really flexible.” Decker’s expression turned smug as he wiggled his eyebrows and laughed.
Finn fake gagged. “Dude, seriously. Stop. That’s my mother you’re talking about.” He grimaced.
“Nothing wrong with an experienced, mature woman, especially when she can hook her heels behind her neck.”
“Now I need brain bleach. You’re such a motherfucker.”
“Maybe instead of Daddy Decker, you’ll have to call me Stepdaddy Decker.” Decker winked at him.
“There isn’t enough fucking booze in the world for me to call you that,” Finn shouted.
A muffled ringing in someone’s pocket had them all checking their phones.
Crew went from amused to serious in a second flat when he glanced at his screen. He rose from the couch. “It’s mine.”
With the phone to his ear, he left the TV area, wandering over toward what they considered the club’s “bar.” Which was no more than a counter with shelves hidden behind it that held alcohol, glasses and other shit needed to get pickled. Also in the corner was a fridge stuffed full of unhealthy food and drinks.
Finn tipped his head back and called out, “Grab me another Molson while you’re up.”
Crew turned away and pressed a finger to his other ear to block out the noise.
The call must be important.
Not even two minutes later, Crew called out, “Yo, Finn.”
Finn glanced over his shoulder. “What? Is there no more Molson? Then just grab me—” He swallowed the rest when the task force leader’s gray eyes locked with his and he tipped his head, indicating that Finn should get his ass off the couch and come over to him. With a groan, he rose and headed over to the counter where Crew was waiting. “What’s so important you’re interrupting the game?”
“You’re not even paying attention to it.”
“Because we already know how it’s going to end. The Browns won’t ever turn this game around.”
“And that surprises you?”
It shouldn’t. “I was holding out hope they could pull a W out of their asses.”
“Speaking of wins, we sort of got one, though it shouldn’t be a surprise… The dog hit on the Astro Van.”
Finn’s eyebrows pinched together. “Damn, that was quick.”
“That’s because I cashed in on a favor,” Crew explained.
“When did the handler go out?”
“About four this morning while the club was closed and she could use the dark for cover.”
She. Of fucking course. Crew might ride the rest of them when it came to avoiding commitment, but after his ugly divorce, he turned into the king of post bust-a-nut bolting.
“Tomorrow morning I’ll write up an affidavit for the judge and have him sign the court order for the camera system. As soon as I have that in hand, I’ll get our Black Box team to go in and install them before coming over here to set up the live feed.”
“Just live?” That would mean someone would need to watch twenty-four/seven.
“No, it’ll be digitally recorded, too. It’ll be a slick system and much better than The Peach Pit’s.”
Naturally. The federal government’s budget ran circles around a strip club’s. “How soon will that happen?”
“I’ve already lined it up, we just needed the probable cause for the affy. I’ll push them to get in there and get it done the second the ink dries on the judge’s signature. Right before they do, Mel will need to provide the latest security code. But listen… I don’t want you or her there when the team’s installing it. They’re going to be as stealth as fuck going in and getting out. If, for some reason, the team gets caught, I don’t want you or her tied to them in any way.”
“Understandable.” If Mel got tied to the investigation, it would put her in harm’s way.
“I’ll let you know when it’s on the schedule.”
“But you don’t care if Mel knows about the cameras, right?”
“I think it’s better she does since she’s a part of this. Plus… It might give her a sense of security since you said she’s worried about the dancers’ safety. Now she’ll have working cameras again. It just won’t be the Demons who have access to them.”