Hummingbird
Copyright© 2026 by Krista*
Chapter 10
“Welcome to Cunningham and d’Santos! How may I help you?” Anne smiled up from her seat at the desk at the tall man who came into the office.
“I was looking for Miss d’Santos,” he half smiled as he held up several folders. “I was coming over from the county offices to bring these forms to her so she can fully set up her law license for Montana,” he handed them to Anne. “Is she here?”
“No. She went to pick up Sweetpea.” At the confused look, she continued. “A dog she adopted. She took her to the vet to get taken care of.”
“Ah! Doctor Becky! I’m sure everything worked out okay.”
“There was a joke about a ‘cone of shame’ but otherwise,” Anne grinned, “she will be in her new forever home soon. Oh,” she stood and extended a hand, “I’m Anne, Anne Halberd. The office manager admin person.”
“I’m Mickey, sometimes known as Michael Packard. But most people call me Mickey” he took her hand gently.
“Oh! Yes! Mickey! I heard a little about you.”
This had him on edge. “Oh? Good things, I hope.
Anne made it a point to count off on her fingers. “Well, she said you are very polite, a great dancer, a bit of a dreamer, but in a good way, work for the county and you introduced her to carrot cake!” a giggle escaped. “So, positive things, unless there is some deep dark secret?” she laughed.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” he smiled. “So I understand it, you went to that same school in California that she went to before she attended law school?”
“The Magdalena school,” Anne smiled and gave a soft sigh. “That school has saved more girls from tragedy that you can imagine. They welcome frightened and abused children into their embrace and help them discover all the wonderful things that life has to offer!”
Mickey nodded. “She told me she was ten when she got there, saved from being sold as a toy for some gang-banger who liked little girls,” there was a silent rage in his eyes at the thought that someone could be that sick and twisted.
“You would be astonished at the things some of the girls endure before they get there. Myself included,” a far off look came to Anne’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Mickey quickly stated.
“It’s okay. Would you like a cup of coffee while we wait for her to get back?”
Yzzy sat with the engine of her car off, hands on the steering when as the deputy got out of his cruiser and walked towards her car. As usual, he made it a point to press his fingertips above the brake light so if needed, his fingerprints could be dusted off there. Yzzy had rolled her window down about halfway but kept her doors locked.
“License and registration. Now.” His voice was gruff.
“Officer, my license is in my purse and I will need to get it from there. The registration is in the glove box. I will slowly extract both for you. I do not have any weapons,” she stated calmly. In the pet carrier in the back seat, Sweetpea whimpered. “Please allow me a moment to comply with your instructions.”
Yzzy handed her license, registration and insurance information through the window. The deputy glanced at them for only a moment.
“Step out of the vehicle.”
“No.” The answer made him pause. “Officer, I am complying with the request for information legally required. However, per my fourth amendment rights, I do NOT consent to any inspection or search of my person or this vehicle. At least not until you tell me just why you are stopping me.”
“I’m stopping you because I can. I’m the one wearing the badge here. We have had a few reports of a suspicious vehicle and activity in the area,” he was used to people doing as instructed. He didn’t like the idea of someone pushing back.
“Suspicious activity,” Yzzy mused. “Is there a case or file number that can be referenced?”
“No. Now step out of the car.”
“How about you go run my information first before you demand anything?” What the deputy didn’t know was that Yzzy had started recording everything on her phone and it was being uploaded to her cloud account. She occasionally had to deal with over zealous law enforcement who stopped people for “Driving While Brown” or “DWB” for no reason other than they could.
The deputy grunted and went to his patrol car. He made it a point to have it look like he was on the radio, but was in fact just looking at the license. He returned and stood again at the car door. “Step out of the vehicle.”
“Again, no. At least not until I get an answer as to why and what is going on here. You have no probable cause to detain me, so am I free to leave?”
“Probable cause? Tell me, the listed address states California. Why are you in Montana?”
“Not that it is your concern, but I’m in the process of a relocation.”
“And why haven’t you updated your address yet?”
“I’ve been here less than a week and I’m allowed by the Montana DMV up to sixty days to update that information. Am I free to leave?”
“NO!” he roared. “You are NOT free to leave!” In the back of the car, Sweetpea was getting agitated. “Now get out of the car! We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I can even make a call to the state ICE office and we can see about deporting your illegal self after time in the cages.”
“Again, I am refusing your request because my constitutional rights allow me to do so. There is no probable cause.” Yzzy was starting to grow tired of the game. “I am a citizen of the United States and ICE will also not have probable cause.”
“You want probable cause?” he bent down and inhaled deeply through his nose. “I think I smell marijuana. I know everyone in California is always smoking it, but that’s not how it works here in Montana. Now, OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR AND GET OUT OF THE CAR!”
Sweetpea started barking, frantic at the angry voice.
“Again, I am refusing that order as your probable cause is invalid.”
This was too much. The idea of some ‘uppity’ woman, especially one who was a minority, resisting his direct orders only made him angrier. He reached to grab the top edge of the partially opened window and yanked it hard, causing it to shatter. He then reached in to unlock the door, opened it and grabbed Yzzy on her arm to pull her out of the car. By now, Sweetpea was barking frantically inside the carrier.
“Shut that damned dog up!” he roared.
“I want your name and badge number, because I want to make sure internal affairs knows who to look at when this is reviewed!” Yzzy was angry now. Very angry. She stood next to the open door of the car as shattered glass from the window fell to the ground.
“You don’t need to know my name except when we go stand in front of the judge and he tosses you in a cell for obstructing an investigation,” the threat of jail time would quickly make most people back down. This was not going as planned.
“Again, no probable cause and illegal search and seizure. Stop now and it won’t be the end of your career.” Sweetpea was now barking as loud as possible, fearing for Yzzy, the pet carrier bouncing around in the back seat.
“If you won’t shut that damned dog up, I will!” he drew his service revolver.
“NO!” Yzzy screamed and jumped forward.
The pain was excruciating as the gun fired.
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