The Sweetest Summer(148)
This was some kind of federal raid, obviously. But why now? Why the hell would the Justice Department swoop down on Evie when they were already preparing charges against Richard Wahlman? Was there no communication between FBI headquarters and their field offices?
Clancy called dispatch. Every officer was already headed to the public dock, and private security from the Oceanaire construction site was on their way, too.
Not that it would make much difference. Local law enforcement couldn’t put an end to whatever badly timed blowout the FBI had on its to-do list, but it was their responsibility to see that no one got injured in the process.
Duncan and Da arrived at his side. Clancy’s brother stood in front of Evie and Christina, blocking them from the wind.
“Feds.” Duncan sounded bored, like a helicopter landing on the Mermaid Ball dance floor was an everyday occurrence. “That’s a modified UH-60 Black Hawk. Talk about overkill.”
“Four more are headed to the airfield,” Clancy said.
“Smaller birds. Leased. Probably national media.”
“Ah, shit.”
The wind whipped and the noise of the large helicopter became deafening. Everyone backed away from the center of the dock.
“For God’s sake, what is this?” Frasier was outraged. “This is the Bayberry Island Mermaid Festival, not a Die Hard sequel!”
“What should we do?” Evie remained stoic as she stood right next to Clancy, though Christina continued to cry.
“Let’s just take this one step at a time, Evie. Obviously, there’s been some miscommunication.”
Her eyes flashed with worry, so he reached for her hand. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll cooperate fully until the situation sorts itself out.”
She took a deep breath and for an instant, her gaze locked with his. He understood without her having to say the words—she trusted him. She counted on him. Evie took Christina to a bench away from the wind.
The helicopter’s rear and front wheels touched down, and once they were stabilized and the rotors powered off, the doors opened. Five agents spilled out, followed by a slow-moving Wahlman.
A voice called from behind Clancy. “Chief!”
Oh for the love of God, it was Heather Hewes and her freelance video camera. “Stand back, Heather. Da, get her out of here!”
“No!” Heather slammed her foot on the dock. “I demand freedom of the press! I have a constitutional right to cover this story!” She hoisted her camera to her shoulder and began filming.
She’d finally found some sexy.
Clancy was relieved when Deon arrived with Chip and Jake. “Get everyone a block away from here. I have no idea what’s about to go down. And please escort the mayor from the dock.”
“What?” Frasier looked stunned.
“Shit, Clancy,” was all Deon said.
The FBI Special Agent in Charge marched toward Clancy, with four agents behind her. She looked perturbed.
Clancy smiled at her. “Welcome to Bayberry Island, Special Agent Apodaca.”
She wasn’t amused. “Good evening, Chief Flynn. As you might guess, things just got mighty complicated for you.”
Duncan’s deep voice cut through the noise. “What’s going on here, Agent?”
She glanced his way, then froze. A flash of recognition lit up her eyes. She examined him from head to toe. “Coronado?”