Both cops are standing in front of us now, neither looking like they believe what she just said.
“And you’re the friend?” one of them asks, directing his attention to me.
“Yes,” I say, trying not to grind my back molars together.
Friend.
What a shitty way for her to see me, but I can’t focus on that right now.
“Ethan Packwood,” I tell him as I pull out my own driver’s license.
The cop looks down at it, his face an emotionless mask when he looks back up at me.
“You’re with Cerberus?” the taller guy asks. I imagine the man is aware because of the address on the ID.
A tingle of unease washes over me, but I stand a little taller, knowing the club has an amazing reputation in the community.
“I am,” I confirm.
“Ever mess around with a woman named—”
“Now is not the time,” his partner reminds him.
The guy asking clears his throat, making me understand that he either had a wife or a girlfriend that hooked up with someone at the club, or they split up and she ended up there one night. No matter the reputation the club has as a whole, this man will never acknowledge the good we do in the community. As far as he’s concerned, we’re the enemy, and there’s nothing that will change his mind. He feels personally wronged, and there’s a good chance he’s going to hold that against Faith just because of her connection to me.
“So you don’t mind if we search your vehicle?”
“That’s fine,” Faith says before I can advise against it. This entire situation is already coated in suspicion, and although I know she’s innocent, this damn car has been sitting here for ten hours. There’s no telling what’s inside. As an attorney, she should know better than to consent to a search, but I know she’s flustered, wanting to prove her innocence.
She reaches into her purse once again and pulls out the keys, and that sickness in my gut deepens when the irritated cop reaches over and pulls the door open without needing the keys in her hand.
“It’s unlocked?” Faith asks, her face tilting up to mine.
The cop that seems to have an issue with the club bends down and begins going through her car. The other cop keeps an eye on us like he’s just waiting for either of us to cause trouble.
“Not into drugs, huh?” the cop asks as he backs out of the vehicle, a small bag of what looks like cocaine in his hand.
Chapter 20
Faith
“That’s not mine,” I assure him, but I know what happens next.
I’m not a criminal attorney, but I’m very aware of how the police operate, their responsibilities, and how they react to situations like this.
“Her car has been here all night, unlocked,” Ethan says. “Anyone could’ve put that in there.”
“Or she left her drugs in the car while you two went for a little morning quickie,” the cop holding the bag of white powder argues. “Ma’am, please step forward and put your hands behind your back.”
“Over my dead body,” Ethan growls, taking a step forward to block me from the police officer.
“Arrangements could be made,” the cop growls, handing the drugs over to his partner.
“It’s fine,” I tell Ethan, pressing my hand to his back. “Nothing is going to be solved in this parking lot.”
Ethan is twitching with rage, but he steps to the side as the police officer draws closer. I’m glad he’s levelheaded because the last thing I need is someone making this situation worse for me.
Tears are already burning my throat as I turn around in front of the cop.
“Do you consent to a pat down?” he asks after the cuffs are in place.
“Are the cuffs really necessary? She’s been compliant the entire time,” Ethan hisses.
“Standard protocol,” the cop not touching me says.
“Do you consent to a pat down?” the other one asks again.
I nod, praying this guy doesn’t turn into an even bigger jerk and cops a feel to make Ethan madder, or in revenge for whatever happened to the woman he was going to ask about before his partner shut him down.
“You have the right to wait for a female officer,” Ethan says, his tone low and dangerous, a warning to the cop, not me.
“It’s fine,” I assure him.
Since I’m in leggings, a t-shirt, and a light jacket, the search is over quickly. Before I can say another word, I’m escorted to the back of the cop car. The closing of the door with me inside feels like finality, like the end.
It very well may be the end of my career, the ending of my standing in the community. All the hard work I put into law school, all the obstacles I managed to overcome from being a foster child in a broken system, all for nothing because I stupidly left my car unlocked in a parking lot overnight because I was scared and not thinking right.