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“All right, Turk,” Faith said. “Let him go.”
Turk released him, and Antonio cried and sniffled. “He bit my leg.”
“You’ll be okay, tiger,” Michael said. “Do us all a favor and get dressed.”
“My clothes are outside,” Antonio whined.
“Oh, you mean where you dropped them trying to escape from us?” Michael asked.
“Turk, go get his clothes,” Faith said.
Turk leapt easily through the window, and a moment later, he returned with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that Faith judged to be two sizes too small for Antonio.
The woman, who had spent her time staring wide-eyed at the three of them up until now cried, “What is the meaning of this? How dare you break into my house? I should call the police!”
“You sure could,” Michael said, motioning for Antonio to get dressed. “If you do, you’ll learn that we’re working with them. You’ll also learn that the police are required to notify the homeowners in case of a call from the residence. All the homeowners. Is your husband on the deed, Mrs. …”
The strange woman went white as a sheet and didn’t respond.
“Yeah, thought so,” Michael said. “Enjoy the rest of your day, ma’am. You might want to see if you can get someone out to fix your front door this afternoon or else think of a really believable story for your husband.”
He looked at Antonio, who was whimpering as he pulled his pants over his injured ankle. “Hurry it up, Romeo. The four of us are going to go somewhere nice and private and have a little talk. You like Chinese?”
Antonio sniffled and didn’t answer.
“Doesn’t matter,” Michael said. “It’s for us, not you anyway. All right, let’s go.”
He hooked an arm around Antonio, who continued to favor his ankle. Faith called Turk, and they left the white-faced woman to think as quickly as she could how she was going to explain this to her husband.
“You need to take me to a hospital!” Antonio whined. “I think my ankle’s broken!”
“Your ankle’s fine,” Faith said. “Turk just grabbed you; he didn’t injure you. There’s a first aid kit in the car.”
“Man,” Antonio whimpered. “This is so lame!”
“Tell me about it,” Michael quipped.
***
Antonio continued to sniffle and pout as he stared down at his damaged ankle. His DOT record listed him as thirty-eight, but he pouted like a five-year-old kid. Faith just managed to keep her lip from curling in contempt. Even Turk stared at him with disgust.
“All right, Tony,” Michael said, “can I call you Tony?”
“Antonio,” Antonio said petulantly.
“Tony,” Michael replied, “Tony, we have a problem. Do you know what the problem is?”
He sniffled and shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“Really?” Faith said. “Then why did you run?”
He sniffled. “I thought you were her husband.”
“You thought her husband was named FBI?”
“I thought you were lying!” he whined. “I thought you were just saying that to scare me.”
“Why on Earth would he lie to enter his own house?” Michael asked.
