you carry a gun?” he asked.
“A gun?” She stabbed the lit elevator button again. “For surveillance? I don’t think so.”
“Surveillance is all you do?”
“That’s all I’m interested in doing. Besides, D.J. says don’t carry a gun unless you plan on using it.”
He nodded. “Good advice. Listen...watch yourself.”
That unexpected comment caused her to face him again. “Do you know something I don’t? Is there something special I should look out for?”
His blue eyes searched her face. For a moment she thought he was going to give her something, but then he tightened his jaw. “You’re in a profession that could be dangerous. Just be careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
He nodded, looking doubtful. “Call me when you get back.”
“What for? Wait. You actually expect me to report in? Tell you what I found in Ocala?”
“Cooperation is a good thing, Merlene. Remember?”
The elevator doors bounced open, and she stepped into the crowded car.
“You have my card,” he said. “Call me.” He held his hand to his ear, mimicking a phone.
She stared at him as the doors closed between them and wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. She would have, too, if this elevator hadn’t been as full at the last one.
So this overbearing man screws around with not only her license, but D.J.’s license, and then expects her to call him with a report? Amazing. The nerve. Especially since he hadn’t shared a thing of use with her.
Detective Cody Warren was driving her crazy.
CHAPTER THREE
CODY CHUCKLED AS he pushed open the door to the tenth-floor conference room. No question an encounter with feisty Merlene Saunders always lightened his mood. Too bad they’d met under the strained and tense circumstances of this serious case. Maybe he could look her up later and they could start over.
He’d like that. The question was: would she?
Inside the room, he found Assistant County Attorney Rafael Alvarez at the head of a long wooden conference table cluttered with files, books and paper. The prosecutor had summoned Cody and his partner to the courthouse this morning for a strategy session on the Johnson case. Jake Steadman, his partner, was tied up in a deposition but would join them later if he got finished in time.
Alvarez wasn’t looking at his papers, though. He stared out the window wearing an solemn expression.
“Hey, Rafael,” Cody said. “What’s wrong, man?”
Rafael turned to face him with a grimace. “Cody. Yeah, well, I’ve got some bad news. I’m not sure I quite believe it myself yet.”
Cody sat down beside Rafael. “What?”
The prosecutor used a pen to nudge his cell phone on the table before him. “Just got off the phone with my supervisor.”
“I’m listening.”
“We’re done, man.”
“Done?”
“They’ve pulled the plug on the Johnson case.”
Cody felt blood drain from his face as he stared at Rafael. He’d thought this meeting was to discuss an arrest, not an ending to the investigation.
“Pulled the plug? Is that some kind of a sick joke?”
“It’s no joke, man,” Rafael stated with a shake of his head. “Believe me, I wish it were.”
“But you can’t end this investigation. My partner and I have put in six months of hard work.”
“And you know the hours I’ve logged,” Rafael said. “It’s not me, Cody. It’s coming from the top guns. As of now, I’m off the case. Reassigned.” Rafael stood and jammed his scattered papers into a brown leather briefcase. “I’ve got to get back to my office. I suspect when you return to your station you’ll find that you’ve been reassigned, as well.”
“What’s going on?”
“Off the record, I think Dr. Johnson got to someone. I saw him leaving the federal building early this morning.”
“You saw Johnson in Miami today?”
“Right. Around eight.”
“You’re certain?”
Rafael paused in his quick movements. “Why? What do you know?”
Cody also rose. “I got a tip that he was in North Florida.”
“No way. Johnson was with Tony Menudo, an FBI agent I know.”
“He was with a fed?”
“Yeah, and Tony was treating him like a confidential informant.” Rafael reached out and shook Cody’s hand. “I’m sorry, man. We were almost there.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Rafael,” Cody said. “But I’m not giving up on nailing this bastard.”
“See you on the next one,” Rafael said.
Frustration and fury raged inside Cody as he strode toward the elevator. He rotated his shoulders to release the tension. Didn’t help. What he needed to do was jog about twenty miles. Or punch something.
What the hell was going on?
But he knew.
Most likely Doc Johnson had buddies in high places. Slimeballs always did. Johnson had gone to his friends and struck some kind of cushy deal. Oh, maybe he’d get a few months, maybe even a year in a nice country club prison, but he wouldn’t do any hard time. Maybe he’d have to pay a stiff fine, but nothing a wealthy physician couldn’t easily handle. Before long, Johnson would return to his old life and continue to enjoy his illegally obtained riches. Within months of release, he’d start another lucrative fraud.
Hands on his hips, Cody stared down the hallway and tried to calm his rushing thoughts. What would his lieutenant say? Had Montoya already assigned him a new case? Not that he didn’t have plenty of other open cases to work.
What about Jake? Cody placed a quick call to his partner to let him know the latest development. Jake’s cell was off for the depo, but Cody left a voice mail that their conference had been cancelled.
He knew Jake would be equally pissed when he learned the reason. They’d worked hard to develop the evidence to convict Dr. Johnson. And now it was over. All that work for nothing.
Cody shook his head. Damn. So Johnson had returned from his trip to Ocala...if he’d ever gone there. Jealous wives often overreacted, read more into a situation than really existed. Maybe the good doc had never even left town.
When the elevator pinged its presence, Cody entered and punched the button for the twelfth floor. He needed to find Merlene and save her a long, pointless trip.
To his knowledge Dr. Johnson had never been violent, but not so the other players in this fraud. He hated the idea of her going after Johnson by herself. Yeah, she seemed competent enough, but the woman had no idea what she was getting into.
There was a hell of a lot more to this case than a wandering husband. Maybe it was time he told her. What did it matter? Wasn’t his case anymore.
* * *
INSIDE A CAVERNOUS wood-paneled courtroom, Merlene jotted careful notes as her client’s soon-to-be ex-husband whined out his side of the story. She didn’t want to make any mistakes when called to testify. Lawyers loved to confuse, to trip up witnesses. There was probably a class in law school on how to do that.
She’d