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Rich Woman Gets Fake HOA Cops To Target Black Woman — Until Her FBI Agent Husband Walks Onto The Scene

Rich Woman Gets Fake HOA Cops To Target Black Woman — Until Her FBI Agent Husband Walks Onto The Scene

Chapter 8

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The call ended. Nancy lowered the phone and looked back at Logan, who was watching her with something between irritation and disinterest, like her fear was supposed to have arrived by now and hadn't."You think a phone call changes anything?" he said.Nancy didn't answer. She just stood there, arms crossed, blocking the space between her car and the truck, refusing to give him one more inch of ground than she already had. The tow driver shifted awkwardly by the flatbed, chains still slack in his hands, waiting for someone to tell him what happened next. Nobody did. Not yet.For the first time since he'd arrived, Logan glanced at his watch and then, almost involuntarily, toward the road, like some small part of him had started to wonder exactly who was five minutes away.James's truck turned onto the street four minutes later, faster than it should have, and pulled up hard against the curb. He was out the door before the engine finished settling."Nancy." His eyes swept the scene fast: his wife standing her ground between her car and a tow truck; a man in a tactical vest squared up too close to her. James's whole body shifted, calm on the surface, coiled underneath. "You good?""I'm fine." Her voice wasn't steady, but her spine was straight.James stepped between Logan and his wife without hurrying, the way a man does when he's used to walking into rooms where things are about to go bad. "What's going on here?"Logan looked him up and down, unimpressed. "Compliance enforcement. Vehicle's in violation. You her husband?""I am." James's voice stayed even. "What department are you with?""Cedar Hollow Compliance and Security.""That's not a department. That's a company name." James tilted his head slightly. "What agency licenses you? Who's your supervisor?"Logan's jaw shifted. "I don't answer to random people in a driveway.""I'm not random people." James reached into his jacket, slow and deliberate, and pulled out a leather case. He flipped it open. "Special Agent James Whitford, FBI."
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Rich Woman Gets Fake HOA Cops To Target Black Woman — Until Her FBI Agent Husband Walks Onto The Scene

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