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A polished shoe came out first, then a leg encased in crisp khakis. There followed a giant of a man in a white, button-down shirt worn under a light summer jacket. A cap was perched on his head and aviator sunglasses sat squarely on his nose.
His jacket and hat said “FBI”.
“What the hell?” Mike posed the question as his jaw dropped, but before Joe could answer, the man began to speak.
“You two,” the agent barked at Mel and Cameron. “Out of the truck. Hands where I can see them.”
That voice…
Mike swore there was something familiar about it, but he was unable to come up with anything, so perversely, he settled in to enjoy the show, finding that he didn’t mind if the newcomer was stealing his thunder. The pair doing damage to his wheels had frozen in horror, and Mike was amused. They both looked—once they’d sighted the agent—as if they were about to piss their pants.
“Us?” Mellie’s voice squeaked.
“Yeah. You,” the agent barked again.
Cameron slid from the truck, then he and Mel complied with the orders, their arms thrust into the air.
“We’re not doing anything officer,” Mel began to placate in a tone Mike had heard many times before when she’d make up excuses for the lies that had permeated their marriage. “We heard that a friend of ours was having trouble with his truck, so we came to fix the problem while he’s on a hike.”
“Funny,” the man said. “I have a video showing you breaking into this vehicle and tampering with the steering wheel.”
Oh, snap.
Now Mike knew Joe had shared with the agent. He dragged his eyes from the tableau and turned to Joe, who was grinning like a fool.
“What’s going on, Joe?” he asked with a deliberately gentle voice. He wasn’t going to get up in her face until he found out the extent of her basically having tied his hands where Mellie was concerned.
“Shhh,” she responded with a grin. “This is just getting good.”
Mike grunted.
Joe didn’t seem in the least bit repentant, which must mean she didn’t feel as if she’d done anything wrong.
Most likely she’d done what she’d done, trying to protect Mike from himself. Sweet of her, but disappointing because it was now clear he wasn’t going to be the one to put the fear of God into Mellie.
Muttering a bit, he settled in again to watch the show.
“We, uh… He said…” Melanie was tongue-tied, which was rare, and the agent wasn’t having any of it.
“I’ve had reports of vandals breaking into cars at this trailhead,” he said sternly. “That’s why we installed the surveillance.”
“Surveillance?” Mel rasped.
The agent simply pointed at the cameras, then waited.
“Sir,” Cameron’s voice broke. “You have the wrong people. This is the first time we’ve been here, and we know this truck. It belongs to her ex-husband.”
“And I should believe that?” the agent countered. “If you know the owner of this truck, why were you disabling his steering?”
“We, uh, have an ongoing joke,” Mellie lied. “He pulls something on us, then we pull something on him in return. We would have…left a note telling him he’d been pranked, then he would have found the problem before driving away.”
God, that’s lame.
Mike wondered how the agent would respond.
“I don’t believe a word you’re saying,” the man spat. “I want ID from both of you.”
“It’s…in the car,” Mellie told him.