Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“You?” the male that has to easily be somewhere around six-foot-three – considering he’s got a couple inches on Nolan who only has one on me – questions in an even tone. “Are you the lead detective in this case?”
Northwood shoves his hands firmly into his pockets at the same time he proclaims, “I am.”
“I’m Victor Garcia,” our tanned skinned visitor announces on an extended open palm in the detective’s direction, “Mr. Nolan’s attorney.”
The reluctance the cop exhibits to shake his hand isn’t surprising. “Detective Northwood.”
“Mm.” As soon as their grips separate, he makes his request. “I would like to see the copy of the warrant you presented my client, please.”
“My pleasure.” He sucks his teeth, removes the piece of paper from his pocket, and presents it to the man who practically towers over him. “Don’t worry. This procedure is completely legal.”
“Interesting choice of words, Detective.” Garcia transfers the document into his possession. “And not ones that most people feel the need to say when it’s actually true.”
Northwood’s jaw cracks open in surprise over the comment while my boyfriend’s attorney begins to examine the information.
Why didn’t I know Nolan had an attorney?
Why does he have one?
Is he saved in his phone?
Is this an old favor he’s cashing in?
Has he gotten caught in shit before but kept it hidden from me and used this dude when it happened?
How often has that happened?
Uncomfortable by the NASCAR loop of thoughts now racing around my mind, I merely adjust my ass on the grass.
Do my best to keep a cold engine expression.
It isn’t the time for me to be upset about that shit.
Especially not when we’ve got cops raiding our place and a girlfriend who I swear to the car gods above is now drawing her escape route on my pant leg.
“Detective Northwood,” Garcia speaks up shortly after beginning his reading, “this warrant gives you the right to search Mr. Nolan’s home, business, and vehicle.” His change in tone warrants my attention once more. “Not my other clients.”
Are we his other clients?!
Did I miss that fucking text message?!
“The wording, Detective, specifies you have the right to search homes, businesses, and vehicles that are in Mr. Nolan’s name only.” In spite of how easy it would be to smugly smirk, Garcia refrains. “The apartment is in two of my clients’ names, not just Mr. Nolan’s, therefore you did not have the right to start and do not have the right to continue searching the premises as I do not believe my other client, Mr. Woods, consented to have his spaces forcefully explored.”
“I sure the fuck did not,” I swiftly clarify rather than wondering out loud how the man knows my name.
Huh.
What else does he know about me?
Which of my other specs has he read?
Garcia gestures an innocent hand in my direction. “And as you can hear…the distress of having his rights violated is causing an unfortunate visceral reaction that’s being expelled in foul language he would never consciously use around respected officers of the law.”
Oversell.
But I get it.
Calm down.
Do better.
Watch my mouth.
“It would be a shame if the emotional distress from having his home and work violated expanded into needing to seek mental counseling that inevitably led him to feeling as though he should file a civil suit against the city of Spike Village in which you work for, Detective Northwood.” This time there’s a noticeable flicker of a smile that reaches his lips. “Three in a year is grounds for a state funded investigation into your precinct and or district; however, seven in three years is actually enough to warrant the wrong attention from those at a federal level. However, I’m sure you’re aware of that.”
Northwood’s entire face pales in color prompting the man I love to pompously chuckle.
“Nothing your officers may have found or discovered during this violation process can be recorded, removed, or used to request additional or alternative documents regarding any future search and seizure requests.”
“Davis!” shouts Northwood in frustration as Garcia resumes his reading. His head whips over to the officer kicking over one set of my tools. “Go get Davis!”
“It states the aforementioned terms in slightly ambiguous legal language that your office probably should’ve clarified to you before you began this unsanctioned raid.”
“I’m glad my attorney cares more than yours does,” Nolan arrogantly states, body still angled to shield us from the cop’s scathing glances.
“And since only the towing business is in Mr. Nolan’s name, you need legal consent from my other client-”
“Which I did not give,” I loudly insure, leaning around Nolan to guarantee the present detective can see my face.
“-to search the garage, you instructed your men to inspect, which from the looks of it,” he briefly glances around the wrecked space, “is also grounds for a civil suit. After only a glance, I can already estimate the amount of property damage that he could easily ask to be compensated for.”