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“Lucky guess, Happy,” she said. “All right, listen. Skip your standard ‘we’re the government so fall into line like good little sheep’ bullshit. I am way too pregnant and bloated and miserable for any nonsense.”
Pony whispered to Griz, “Been a rough pregnancy for her, hunh?”
“Oh, yeah,” Griz said. “I almost feel bad for these guys.”
Becca blew out a few short breaths, bending her knees slightly and tilting forward like she was trying to catch her breath. Griz made a move to step to her side, but she waved him off and then pointed to Harris and waved him closer.
“Give me the warrant,” she said, opening up the folded paper once Harris complied.
“As you can see…” Harris began to say, before Becca waved him off with a dismissive hand.
“Ease back, Elliot Ness. Give a girl a chance to read,” Becca said, looking over the warrant for a few moments before shouting, “Wait! Everyone stop.”
To Pony’s surprise, all of the federal agents actually stopped in their tracks. It was like a child’s game of Red Light, Green Light, and Becca had just called out “Red Light!”
“You there,” she said, pointing to one of the feds searching the bar. “Yes, you. Stormtrooper Number One.”
“That agent’s name is…” Harris began to say, but Becca talked directly over him.
“Do not step foot on those stairs. This warrant states you can search the bar and clubhouse. The area upstairs is a private residence and is therefore not subject to search. That’ll be what I argue when I dispute anything you find.”
“That’s not…” Harris said, shaking his head in protest, “you can’t…”
“Oh, yes I can,” Becca said, moving so close to Harris that her belly almost touched his. “I am swollen as a whale and if you make me waddle in front of a judge like this I will make it my mission in life to make you as miserable as I am. I will nitpick and stall and file motions until my hand falls off. And the more you try to argue your case, the more you will look like a giant fascist dickbag who’s bullying a pregnant lady. I’ll fucking cry in front of the judge if I have to. I will.”
“Whatever,” Harris said, waving her off as he addressed his agents. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not here for the upstairs. Finish what you’re doing in the bar. Leave the residence alone.”
“Wow. I think that actually worked,” Pony said quietly to Griz. “Has she been studying?”
“She has, actually.”
Pony nodded. “Good for her.”
The two of them watched as the feds continued their search of the bar. Griz pulled a chair over for Becca to plop herself down into, almost immediately rubbing her shoulders once she sat. Pony noticed one of Becca’s hands reaching up to touch Griz’s, almost subconsciously. Around him, her sharp edges seemed to get a lot more blunted.
After a while, Harris asked his agents, “What have you found?”
“Nothing, chief.”
“What? What do mean… check again,” Harris said, gesturing around. “Check again. Check behind the… get out of my way.”
With that, Harris elbowed his way past his own agents, striding straight behind the bar and kneeling down behind it. Pony could hear the sounds of frantic rummaging, and then a cabinet door being slammed shut.
“Fuck!” Harris shouted.
The FBI agent began to pace, muttering to himself. Pony thought it was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.
“Looks like Agent Happy isn’t so happy,” he said.
“Sure does,” Griz agreed.
Harris spun on them, looking like he wanted to retort, but then stopped and said to his agents, “There has to be something. Keep looking.”
One of his agents said, “The bar’s clean, chief, we…”
“Then check the rest!” Harris roared.
Just then, from the back office, everyone could hear one of the FBI agents say, “We got a safe back here, chief.”
