"So you and Hondo, huh?" Ben asked with a sheepish smile.
Jessica Cortez, his captain, sat opposite him with annoyance plainly written on her face.
"You can't get me to just ignore it," the detective defended and leaned back on his couch.
The two were at his home, the morning after the party.
"It's over now. I know that it was a mistake," Cortez said in an even voice.
Seeing that he was wearing Cortez' patience thin, Ben relaxed his mischievous smile and slid over a stack of papers with tens of annotations and colorful stickers poking out of the pages over the couch table.
Hicks had asked him a few weeks ago to help Cortez and look out for her because Commissioner Plank was a shrewd career politician through and through. He began by slowing down their timeline for damage control.
Ben's new mentor had warned him that Plank would use this proposal for a thorough Police Reform to burn Cortez if needed and gain political clout just by having his name associated with it.
"You… put a lot of thought into this," Cortez commented without picking up the stack of paper as she curiously eyed the colorful additions to the plain stack of paper with the originally simple black font.
"I treated it with the respect you deserve, captain," Ben pointed out. "I, uh, found two spelling errors underlined with red like in school. The rest is color-coded. Blue for problematic wording that will have our officers misunderstand your intentions. Orange for problematic wording that can get you in trouble with the public. Red for bad ideas - not because you and Plank got it wrong necessarily but because I personally think it is the wrong time. You'd need to stagger getting the red ones through in waves and not gut the whole way of life of the common LAPD officer."
"And the pink?"
"Uh, sorry," Ben sheepishly excused. He ran out of colors so he had to use pink and purple kid stickers with cartoonish motifs from Anna's playthings. "Pink is where I think you need to outline your reasoning or provide numbers to get the police force to be with you when presenting it. Purple is where I think you need to start small. Pilot phases at certain police stations, small teams. The rest, like the neon highlighting, is always explained in the margins."
"I see a lot of red, Ben," Cortez pointed out with narrowed eyes.
"In an ideal world, this would have been put into place decades ago," Ben praised as he put a finger on the table, pointing it in the direction of the stack of paper. "Just based on this, you'd have my vote for any position in the LAPD, hell I'd vote for you as mayor, senator - if you were born in the US, I'd vote for you to become the next president."
Cortez first looked pleased, but quickly grew exasperated by the hyperbole.
"Just because I'm single now, I don't need you to blow smoke up my ass, Ben," the captain chided.
"Take my advice or ignore it. Accept only a few of my points - I don't care. You are in the right. But sadly, many old timers and the other closeted racists won't see it that way. You are an impressive woman. But you are a woman. And a latina. As much as I loathe to admit it, that's two strikes with a silent minority in the LAPD. A minority that is much bigger than we both wish it was," Ben slowly narrated.
"But your co-sponsor is a white man. A white man who is a civilian. With the right voices in the force, none of the blame will fall on Plank. He will ride the coattails of being the voice of reason in a system in desperate need of change. None of it will have to even be implemented."
"And he'd still get credit," Cortez whispered in understanding. "While I will become a pariah."
"Yes. So tone down the rhetoric, stagger the initiatives, work with a broader roadmap. Maybe cut it in half and implement the rest once you establish that your first changes are good ones and you get the chief's faction on your side," Ben agreed.
"Alright, I'll consider it," Cortez accepted. But she still didn't pick up the stack of papers. She leaned back instead. "You still have four days left on your leave. How are you holding up?"
"Anna kicked my ribs this morning and I didn't double over in pain," Ben revealed with a nod that implied it was a great achievement on his part.
Cortez rolled her eyes.
"Have you learned your lesson?"
"I mean, it's a paid vacation and a senator pinned a medal on my chest as countless cameras were pointed at my face to celebrate me and my actions. They'll even donate thousands of dollars in my name," Ben voiced out with a weirded out expression. He immediately held up his hand to stop the incoming reprimand. "I know, I know. Waking up next to Anna put my fragile mortality into perspective. I learned my lesson."
"Good," Cortez relented with a sigh.
"So, Hondo," Ben spoke to break the silence that followed. "It must suck to break things off when it wasn't your choice."
Cortez narrowed her eyes in annoyance, but eventually, she just sighed again. She knew Ben meant well and she didn't really have anyone else to talk about this.
"If it makes you feel any better, I knew from my first week at Metro that you two had a thing for each other," Ben revealed with a sly grin. "But it was only at the Christmas party that I knew for sure you two were an item."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Cortez asked. She didn't really doubt his claim. Ben was observant like that - and she had yet to catch him lying about things like this.
"Hondo is a big boy. And you are way too career oriented to allow the relationship to affect it," Ben explained while shrugging. "I'd have said something if it was clear you were favoring Sergeant Harrelson… but the opposite was the case. Hondo strived under you because you pushed him and the 20-squad to be better."
Cortez smiled in contentment. Not even Ben's final comment caught her off guard as he added, "Plus, Hicks gave him that promotion to squad leader through a direct order from the commissioner's office due to politics. You had no say whatsoever. I researched how it all went down the moment I suspected your relationship."
"Yo-," her response was cut short by the door bell.
Ben opened the door with his phone without bothering to stand up. His camera had caught who came to visit.
"Beeeeeen~" Phil Dunphy shouted excitedly as the man stormed into the house in search of its owner. When he saw him lounging on his couch, Phil ran over and exclaimed, "I'm so sorry I couldn't be here yesterday! Claire wouldn't understand! You look great! How are you holding up?"
Allowing the father of his ex-girlfriend to give him a hug, Ben could only shake his head in amusement.
"I'm fine, how are you, Phil?"
"Bah, who cares about that?" Phil asked in exasperation. Holding Ben's face as he leaned back, he asked, "How are you!?"
Ben could only burst out laughing.
"I really am fine. Go see Anna, she asked about you this morning. After all, you promised to take her to the park and play frisbee with the 'older boys'."
Phil perked up like he just heard his birthday and Christmas fell on the same day this year.
"Where is she?"
"Emilia and Anna should be in the guest house," Ben answered and Phil had already sped off.
Cortez watched the man disappear across the lawn and shot Ben a skeptical look. With confusion in her voice, she asked, "Was that Haley's father?"
"Yup."
"Your ex-girlfriend?"
"Yup."
"How?"
"I like him."
"Better than your ex-girlfriend?"
Ben looked around to see if anybody was listening in and whispered in response, "Yes."
"How?"
"I mean, you met him. With Haley, love is love is love. But that love is complicated. In the end, it was work, no matter how fond I was of her. With Phil, nothing is complicated. In fact, the opposite is true. He is the simplest man I know, and I mean that in the best way possible."
Cortez didn't comment. Instead, she stood up, collected the papers Ben had prepared and began walking to the door.
"Hey, have you heard what happened at the auction yesterday?"
The captain turned around with a knowing smile and confirmed, "I did."
"Got the details?"
Cortez shook her head, shouting back, "Ask your lady friend yourself."
Ben sighed but was too lazy to follow his boss outside or Phil to see how he and his daughter were doing.
"I tried," he whispered defeatedly, glaring at his phone on the table.
Minutes wallowing in self-pity later, he picked up a burner phone hidden in a side table and pressed 'call' for the only number saved in the phone's contacts.
"Hey, Reacher. Do you have time for a complicated situation?"
-----
Sara sat in her expensive hotel suite, staring at her phone. She bit her lip, indecision clouding her fair features and thoughts.
"Miss Ellis," her secretary, the one she brought with her from the London office, greeted after walking inside with her own keycard for her boss' room. Despite only recently taking over the office of Sterling Bosch in LA, Sara didn't yet like being there - especially after the hostage situation and even more so on a Saturday. "The payments have all been verified and routed to the appropriate accounts. The auction was a big success. Your plight was great PR for the auction. Sterling Bosch made $2.6 million from the commission alone on top of all the bonuses and extra contract revenue. The bosses have decided to give you half of that as restitution. It's in the last mail Sterling sent."
"Thank you, Sophia," Sara absentmindedly commented.
Sophia saw her boss' lost expression and studied the woman she had decided to follow to the states on a whim despite having worked for Sara for less than a year at the time.
"If I may?"
Sara looked up and stopped staring a hole into the phone in her hands.
"Just call," Sophia advised with a thin-lipped smile. "The man put himself between you and a horde of armed gunmen. Call me old-fashioned, but that is a man I'd suck off in a heartbeat."
Caught completely off guard, Sara blushed up a storm, grabbed a pillow and threw it at her secretary.
"Don't make me send you back to the London office," Sara threatened, though a small reluctant smile fought to appear on her face. The woman's bluntness was part of the reason Sara decided to bring the Londoner with her.
Sophia gave her boss a mocking grimace and taunted, "You filed my visa application for me yourself and sponsored me. You're hopelessly lost without my help. Everybody says so."
Sara was about to relent, but Sophia added, "Unless, of course, you don't take me to the drop off of priceless jewelry, get taken hostage, only to then be saved by a handsome detective who is so very obviously smitten with you and I only get to see it from a TV in a bar downtown as I try to score a quick shag."
Sara glared at Sophia for a while before she pointed at the list the secretary had just placed on the table and mockingly quipped, "The jewelry is not priceless. We just learned how much it was all worth."
Sophia only rolled her eyes, complaining, "No comeback for the whole part with your heroic admirer, huh? Like, literally. No cum on your back."
"You're terrible!" Sara cursed and threw another pillow at the blonde woman from London.
Sophia winked after catching the pillow, put it gently down on the couch, and turned around to leave her boss alone.
Just before she was about to leave to get the two of them some food, Sophia turned around, asking, "Hey, Miss Ellis?"
Sara turned her head and mouthed a quiet, "Hmm?"
"How are you feeling, really?"
"Tired, raw, and very, very annoyed. In big parts with you," Sara listed with a huff.
"And you didn't mind seeing your ex lover?"
"The big parts are growing, Sophia," the redhead said in a sing-song voice, giving her secretary another annoyed eye roll.
"... is what you can't say about your savior's boy parts if you don't call," Sophia joked right before closing the door.
Leaning back in her seat, Sara clutched her head with one hand. A humorless laugh escaped her lips thinking about Sophia's sexual innuendos.
"What are you doing, Neal?" Sara cried out with a distraught expression. "Why have you come?"
The auction the night before had many items listed in its catalog. Not all of them were commissioned by her firm. And like a bad dream, all the attention on the pieces Sara brought after the hostage situation didn't deter other criminals from trying out their own schemes.
For a reason she had not yet managed to unearth, the New York FBI White Collar unit flew to the other side of the country with their priced CI. And as if that wasn't enough, they crashed the auction where her firm provided all the headline items.
Most infamous of all, of course, was the blood diamond named after the British navy officer who first stole it, Richard Baron. Well, after the hostage situation that brought national attention to it.
And yet, it felt orchestrated. It usually was with Neal. He always had a scheme. A plan within a plan. An angle he was after.
Worst of all, the two had clicked despite the long time apart, their chemistry was as instant, deep, and captivating as always.
But Sara wanted nothing to do with Neal. In her mind, she knew he was wrong for her. But her heart didn't seem to be accepting it just because he walked through that door with his charming smile.
Neal didn't need to involve her to expose the forgery, and yet he did and swept her off her feet. Not enough to invite him to her hotel room or follow him to his. But enough to make her wish she still drank… at noon.
-----
"Two congressmen, huh?" Reacher commented as he bit into the giant pastry he had ordered while waiting.
A danish filled to the brim with pudding and glazed with sugar. Even in his large hands, the thing looked huge. Like it was meant for a whole family.
Ben opposite him got hungry and raised a finger for the waitress, deciding to get food despite his earlier denial.
"Yes, hun?" The diner waitress asked.
"Can I get, uh, half of one of those?" Ben asked while pointing at Reacher. "A serving for someone more, uh, actually life-sized. Maybe a quarter?"
"Sure," she sassily confirmed and noted it down. "Last guy I saw eat that thing whole was four hundred pounds and not nearly in as good a shape as your friend."
Watching her walk away, Reacher picked up the original topic of conversation, "I see how Brayden might be a problem and how you might want to deal with him since he lives in Malibu whenever he isn't in DC. But Alexander Murray is the Governor of Texas. How is he going to go after you? Even people like him have limits. His reach can't just be national."
"I'm not afraid of them messing with my career. Both of them are ruthless enough to send killers after my daughter," Ben clarified.
Reacher took another large bite and slowly chewed while staring at the detective opposite him.
"And why are you telling me? Want to send a killer to them first before they can? I'm not a hitman, Weiss."
"You might not be. But I think that you and I are similar in at least one aspect. We hate when leeches like them get to play the system," Ben countered, shortly breaking his frown as he thanked the waitress bringing him half a danish with a smile.
"I do hate that," Reacher whispered to himself between bites when the waitress was out of earshot.
"And I'm not asking you to go kill them in cold blood. I just want to take them down with less than legal means. I got someone in mind for Brayden here in California, but I need someone on Murray that I can trust. That I know won't die because they overestimate themselves. Murray is not what he seems. I know for a fact that he has access to trained killers and people at the FBI that he won't hesitate to weaponize any way he can. And I know that he was one of the biggest financiers of the White Front in its early stages. What I don't have is clear evidence of these facts. And I can't use the evidence I already handed over that they had disappeared. It would put Anna at risk and clearly wasn't enough to sway the morality of his henchmen. They made a video of him disappear where he strangled a minor. After all he put her through before."
Reacher nodded, still chewing on his dessert calmly. Though there was a frown on his face when Ben finished. The detective didn't need to say more for Reacher to get the picture.
"He would also need someone at the DOJ or have several judges in his pocket to do what you say he does," the tall ex-MP idly commented.
Ben didn't reply. He started to eat instead.
"This is good," Ben praised with his mouth still full. But he also nodded, accepting Reacher's guess as truth. That was what he was afraid of most.
That Murray could weaponize the legal system against him and then go after his daughter to rub it in once he was done with whatever grand scheme that he could do nothing against.
"Yep, he very likely does. And I know Brayden and his family have their fingers in the press. No bad story against him ever makes headlines. Witnesses disappear or suddenly tell a different story. Anonymous sources always go quiet or withdraw the story. They hide it so well, even I can only find a pattern without any evidence."
Ben and Reacher continued to eat in silence, both enjoying the oversized pastry.
Only when Reacher was done and downed another coffee did the large man lean back and look like he was thinking.
"I'll do it. Been meaning to get out of Southern California anyway. It's about to be too hot with Summer starting," Reacher accepted.
Ben nodded and slid over a beige manila folder labeled 'vacation plans'.
"You're very good at this whole 'conspire to commit several felonies' thing, detective," Reacher mocked as he flipped the folder open and browsed what Ben had put inside.
First, the Army vet found several travel brochures and it didn't seem like they were put there as a cover for the title on the folder.
Then there were two maps, one of Texas as a whole, one of the southern coast of the state near Houston and Beaumont, close to the border to Louisiana. Several locations were marked on both maps and Reacher had the tourist fliers for the circled cities.
Following that, he found several photos, likely taken from someone's social media profile. Ben had cleverly arranged clips over the printed pictures and post-its with clues to highlight the important people, writing names and other infos on the back of the picture or in code on the little yellow notes without making the pictures look like they were meant as information on targets.
Yelp reviews for certain businesses, news clippings for events and fundraisers. Old travel itineraries disguised as proposed plans to copy if someone would travel through those highlighted cities.
This folder held the abridged version to the life and misdeeds of Governor Murray - if one just cared enough to take a deep look and see what was happening behind the scenes.
"I would have very much liked to have you work for me at the 110," Reacher said as he looked up and straight into Ben's eyes.
"This keeps me up at night. I couldn't look into any of it with my LAPD credentials. They have ways to find out. So I had to go through social engineering and stalk them on social media. If you hear them talk about Jasmin Featherly, that was my alias when I catfished Murray's son and one of his guards to get access to their profiles."
Reacher raised a nostril to show faint disgust until Ben added, "Clive Murray is 33 and sent a 19 year old Jasmin unsolicited dick pics in under 10 minutes of conversation. Greg Stine, 44 but tells people he is 35, proposed a coked up threesome with him and his boss in under an hour."
"Charming," Reacher scoffed.
Looking outside of the diner, Ben saw Phil, Anna, and Emilia walk past. He had chosen this diner for this very reason. It was near the park where Phil wanted to show Anna how to throw frisbees.
While Ben was looking, a passerby complimented Anna's cute outfit and mistook Phil and Emilia as her parents. Emilia was about to calmly clarify, but Phil somehow stumbled over his words and, like a complete, lovable buffoon, created a big misunderstanding.
The mother of his daughter laughed, decided to play along and held Phil's arm as she thanked the short, bespectacled man who had told Anna how adorable she was.
"I'll keep the burner alive because I won't use it for anyone but you. Call me when you need something or would like to report what's happening. Like I said, I trust you," Ben said and stood up after placing down a hundred dollar bill for their lunch. "It's on me."
Reacher didn't say anything but calmly looked outside when Ben mumbled, "Got to catch up with the one I want to send after Brayden."
Just as Ben left, a charming man wearing a slick suit and a fedora sat down opposite Reacher after getting up from a few booths over.
"Hi, Nicholas Halden," the man introduced himself and intended to 'accidentally' slip the manila folder down to the floor as he propped himself up on the table with one hand as he politely stood up again for the handshake.
Reacher held the folder in place with a single finger and a very unimpressed stare.
Seeing that the buff man wouldn't shake his hand, 'Nicholas Halden' took back his hand and sat down again without showing any negative reaction.
Reacher didn't say a word and just continued to stare at the man.
It became more and more menacing, or that was how it felt to Nicholas.
"You know, I was just wondering. The man you just talked to, I think I have seen him somewhere… isn't he that famous LAPD Officer? Ben Something?"
Reacher didn't answer.
"Alright, you caught me. I know he was," the man opposite him exposed with a 'defeated' sigh when it was obvious Reacher wouldn't talk.
And again, the two sat in silence for two long minutes. 'Nicholas' seemed to enjoy the silence and used it to study the large man opposite him.
"What do you want, Neal Caffrey?"
'Nicholas Halden's eyes widened for a short moment before he shook his head and tried to deflect, "You must be mistaking me for-"
"I'm not," Reacher denied, still looking very unimpressed.
Neal awkwardly coughed into his hand.
"How would you know?"
"I read the news," Reacher explained and held up today's paper that had been lying on the bench, next to his lap.
'Ellis (35) Survives Hostage Situation Only To End Up As Bait For FBI White Collar Unit'
Below the headline was a picture of Neal holding Sara Ellis by the waist as several people with FBI-letter jackets were aiming their guns at a suspect with raised hands.
"That is indeed a good picture of me," Neal admitted with a reluctant sigh.
Reacher didn't say another word.
He had figured out that this Neal Caffrey guy wanted to see what Ben was up to - because either Neal and Sara used to have a thing going on and he was looking out for her or he wanted to still have a thing between them and Ben was a hindrance to that plan. Anyone with eyes could see that Sara made googly-eyes at her savior during that press conference where the senator pinned a medal on the detective.
The picture of Ben bringing Sara out of the hostage situation in a princess carry that had made national news was also very flattering.
And Reacher knew even more, because their supposed love story started in front of his very own eyes during the hostage situation. He had first class tickets to the show as Ben charmed the lady by being a caring and reliable man who didn't mind putting his life on the line for her without a moment's hesitation.
The cocky aura exuded by Neal, who lied about who he was like it was second nature, didn't seem all that reliable to someone like him, not that Reacher presumed to understand women.
'Assumptions kill,' was his motto anyway. That very life lesson he learned mostly centered around investigations, but he was technically a civilian now.
"Okay then, I suppose you won't be telling me why you met with the charming detective?"
"Vacation plans," Reacher said after purposefully pretending to read the words on the cover of the manila folder.
Neal, ever the actor, seemed to admit defeat and leaned back in the bench of the booth.
"Will he be good to Sara?" Neal asked after waiting an uncomfortably long length of time to build suspense.
"Who is Sara?" Reacher asked, his expression never changing even a bit from the indifferent glare he was giving the man opposite him.
The conman tried to study any kind of emotion on those unsettling eyes in front of him but gave up a few moments later.
"You're good," Neal complimented with a toothy smile and stood up.
One plan fell apart, but there was still another going on.
-----
"Hey you three, wait up!" Ben called out when he was outside of the diner with a paper bag filled with pastries for when they get home.
"Ben?" "DADDY!"
Emilia didn't ask - she had seen the father of her child in the window of the diner - but Phil and Anna both perked up when they heard Ben call out.
Catching her after she ran to him, Ben held his daughter in his arms and walked to the two adults who remained standing still.
"Did you have fun at the park?"
Anna nodded very enthusiastically.
"What did you do?"
"Fripbeee!"
"You threw frisbees with Uncle Phil?"
"Fripbeeeee!" Anna shouted again, both hands raised high into the air.
Phil excitedly ran over, his eyes shining like a lighthouse. His fists were raised just like hers as he joined her. It seemed to be an inside joke between the two, because Emilia was only shaking her head with a small, amused eye roll.
"She didn't get the disc past the two feet mark, but I can tell she has the makings of a pro disc golf player," the man explained when they finally stopped their chanting.
"Then I guess we need to make sure this little pro and her trainer get a reward," Ben proposed with a conspiratorial whisper just for the two of them. With one hand, he held open the heavy paper bag he was carrying for both of them to look into and quietly added, "I got you something filled with pudding."
"I love those," Phil immediately exclaimed, but Ben had to close the bag when the man was about to reach inside.
"At the house," Ben playfully chided.
Anna didn't say anything, but a small line of drool was threatening to escape her lips, her eyes still glued to the bag her father was holding.
Ben dragged Phil along and they finally walked over to Emilia. Putting Anna in the stroller and putting the bag with the danish under the seat, he patted Phil's arm.
"Thank you for spending time with Anna," he said as they made their way to Emilia's car.
He had found it earlier and parked his motorcycle that he took to get there near it - they headed in the same direction.
"Always," Phil waved away. "I lost a lot of houses anyway these past few months. Evelyn and Thorpe are like vultures and the market isn't exactly hot right now."
"Oh? Do you need any help?"
"It's fine. My wife makes good money now, we won't starve," Phil deflected easily.
"If you ever need a pretty woman to help seal the deal, call me up," Emilia offered with a wink.
"Hmmm, that could work," Phil mumbled, losing his smile. "You and Gloria together could charm the pants off the devil."
"Aww, thank you," Emilia said, looking touched. Her smile slightly faltered as she whispered, "I think…"
Ben laid his free arm over Emilia and quipped, "She is kind of freeloading at my place without a job. She definitely has the free time now that Anna is fit enough to go to pre K without us having to worry."
Dropping his head, he whispered into her ear, "Unless you want to help me with something off the books?"
Emilia merely looked at Ben with a raised brow but didn't comment.
Instead they listened to Phil as he hashed out a quick and easy deal with Emilia until they reached the car. They had come with just hers, Phil's car was at Ben's house.
Waving at them as they drove off, Ben walked over to his motorcycle, idly got his helmet from the box but in a quick hand movement dropped it back and got out his gun instead.
"LAPD, show me your hands!" Ben shouted and took a step to the side to get out of the line of sight of any possible accomplices as he partially hid behind a car. "Who are you and why are you following us!?"
The short man's arms shot up as high as he could muster immediately, his expression frightened.
"I didn't!"
"Who are you? And why are you following us?" Ben demanded more angrily.
"I swear, you got the wrong guy!" The man said, his eyes behind the thick glasses widening by the second.
Taking one hand off his pistol, Ben took something the size of a button from his pocket and threw it at the man's feet.
"Who are you? And why are you following us!?"
"You found the bug? How!?" The man exclaimed, incredulous, as he curiously bent down to pick up the button-sized device.
"I don't know how you managed to fool Phil, he is a trained magician. But I looked at you when you slipped that in his pocket when you talked to my daughter," Ben explained but swiftly firmed his mind again. "Now tell me who you are and why I shouldn't shoot you!"
"Aren't you a popo!? Who just guns down innocent men in the middle of the streets of LA!? I knew I should have never left NewYork! The honest cops of the NYPD would… never…"
The man seemed to be going through an epiphany, but the theatrics didn't fool Ben. He was looking at someone with deep trust issues in the institutions of this country.
"I will not ask again," Ben threatened, his patience wearing thin.
"I'm Mozzie, and I will never again help a friend with a 'simple favor'," the bald man said as if that would explain anything.
"Who is your friend!?"
"I'm no snitch! I will never break!"
Ben moved his finger over the trigger from the safe position he had it in before and 'Mozzie' immediately yielded, "Neal! A friend of Sara's! We both are! We wanted to see if you would treat her right! If you deserve your goodie-two-shoes reputation! I can decidedly say now that you do not!"
Seeing that Ben didn't move the finger away from the trigger, Mozzie hurriedly added, "That's a good thing! I'm as crooked as they get! If I was in law enforcement, I'd take bribes from anyone! You do you, detective! Carry on!"
"What the fuck," Ben mumbled under his breath with narrowed eyes and holstered his pistol in slow, deliberate movements after checking his surroundings.
Walking back to his motorcycle without leaving Mozzie out of his sight, Ben began to get ready to drive his bike home. Though, for good measure he looked at it with a critical eye to see if somebody messed with it. That bald guy looked like someone who would mess with a break line.
Mozzie just kept standing there like a deer in the headlights and watched Ben.
Just before putting on the helmet with the bike already propped up between his legs, Ben shouted, "Don't come near me or my daughter ever again. Both of you."