Bonaparte's Belle: A SEALs of Honor World Novel (Heroes for Hire Book 24) by Dale Mayer (namjoon book recommendations TXT) 📕

“Yeah, I really do. I like all the guys and the whole camaraderie of a larger pool of people you know you can count on.”

“Do they usually send you guys out alone?”

“Sometimes,” he said, with a shrug. “It depends on what the job is.”

“So this was just a small job then,” she teased. “I mean, he only sent you, after all.”

“Or it’s a big job,” he said, with a cheeky grin, “and he needed a big guy.”

She burst out laughing again, absolutely loving the camaraderie of being around him.

“It’s nice to see somebody with a smiling face,” he commented.

She looked at him in surprise. “Don’t you see very many smiling faces?”

“Not when this kind of stuff comes down.”

“Well, that’s because everybody is worried,” she said.

“Those two women back there,” he said, “have you thought about what’s happening to their mama and grandfather?”

“Well, hopefully we’ll stop by and take a look at that today. If not, there’s already a call out for Mama to get picked up and taken to a home.”

“That would be hard on her,” he said.

“It may be,” she said. “But again, the authorities need to deal with that issue without me. And depending on how their mother’s doing with her treatments and all, she may do fine on her own.”

“Or she could be completely dependent and need a caregiver,” he said quietly.

She sighed. “I know, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.”

“Nothing you can do.”

“It depends on the prosecutor at this point,” she said, with a shrug. “It would be nice if they could work something out.”

“Maybe at least the sisters could get out on bail, … if they can post bail.”

“I think they probably can,” she said, with a frown, “though I’ve been surprised by those two. So I’m not betting on anything at this point.” She sent the prosecutor another text message about the two of them, reminding him that they had a deadline for help with their mama’s care. She shook her head at the whole mess. “It would sure be nice if we could pick up Ronnie now then go home and have a barbecue.”

“Hell yeah,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you owe me that.”

“Owe you what?” she asked in astonishment.

“Hey, you promised me barbecued ribs.”

“No, you promised me barbecued ribs,” she said, with a laugh.

He shrugged. “Same diff.”

She shook her head. “Not in anybody’s dreams is that the same diff,” she snickered. They went to Frank’s house first, only no one was there. Frowning she said, “We’ll try Ronnie first then come back to Frank’s later.”

They drove up to Ronnie’s place. She looked at the gate and said, “It’s locked of course.”

“Yep, and do you think it was him shooting at the house earlier?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, it should have been Ronnie, since his house is closest to mine, and that’s where we saw him go, but it didn’t really look that much like him.”

“Who did it look like?”

“Neither of the brothers honestly,” she said, with a shrug. “You’ve seen Johnny, and he’s a pretty average height, average build, but Ronnie is taller, as you saw at the restaurant.”

“Okay, well let’s go see what he’s got to say for himself.” They pulled up to the gate, and Bonaparte hit the button to be let through. But, of course, nobody answered. She hopped out, walked around, and hit it again, identifying herself. Again there was no answer. He looked at her and said, “What’s his incentive to actually answer?”

“None I can think of,” she said, “but we don’t have any rights to go on the property either.”

“Hmm, I thought he was involved in this coercion deal. Doesn’t that give us the right to pick him up?”

“Yes, but I’ll have to get a warrant to force our way onto the property, if he’ll play hard to get.” She called the prosecutor and explained the problem.

“Do you even know that he’s home?” he asked.

“No. I can’t confirm it at this time.”

“Can you get confirmation for me?”

“We can just go find out for ourselves.”

“You could,” he said. “I’ll call you back.”

Pocketing the phone, she looked at Bonaparte and said, “He’ll call me back.”

He just rolled his eyes.

“I know,” she said, “bureaucracy at its best.”

“Or its worst. We need access. We need to know if Ronnie’s in there, and we need to know now,” he said.

She thought about it, nodded. “I know. We came here to pick him up, but we have to make sure that everything is locked up and as legal as we can make it, so it doesn’t get thrown out in court.” Just then she got a phone call. It was the prosecutor.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ve got a judge on standby, and we’re working on the warrant right now. Call you back.”

She smiled and gave Bonaparte a thumbs-up. “They’re working on it.”

“Good,” he said, “because it looks like we’re about to get company.”

She looked down the driveway, and a sports car came toward them. “Wow,” she said, “this could be fun.”

“Only if it’s him,” he said.

But, as Angela watched, a young woman was driving.

She came to the gate, opened it, and looked at them. “I can’t even get out with you parked like that,” she said, glaring at Bonaparte. “Really, like if some people would just learn to drive, you know?”

“Who are you?” Angela asked.

The woman tilted her head. “I’m Maisie,” she said. “Why? And who are you anyway?”

“I’m the sheriff,” she said. “Is Ronnie in there?”

“Yeah, and he’s in a hell of a mood too,” she said. “I’m leaving, until he’s not so grumpy.”

“That’s probably wise,” she said. “We need to talk to him.”

“Go on in,” she said. “I don’t have a problem with you talking to him. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get him in a better mood!”

At that, Bonaparte backed up a bit, so she could get by his truck, and Angela hopped up into the front seat and said, “Let’s go.” He drove through the gate as soon as