To Trust a Cop Page 3
“You’ll always be fine, Merl. You’ve taken care of yourself since you were knee-high to a grasshopper.”
She smiled at yet another of his country clichés and then shrugged. “I’m also thinking her husband might soon be in jail. That’s my next question. Should I tell her the cops are investigating Dr. Johnson?”
“No. If she calls her husband and tips him off, it could torpedo an important case. My policy is to always cooperate with the police.”
Merlene nodded. “I wonder what he’s done.”
With a thoughtful smile, D.J. leaned back in his chair. “Probably some kind of fraud. Or selling narcotic prescriptions to bogus patients. Maybe he’s become addicted himself. Doctors can be quite creative.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” she said as she stood. “Remember, my ex was one of the great creative healers of all time.”
D.J. chuckled, which turned into a cough as he waved Merlene out. “Good luck on the Harris case tomorrow.”
She turned back. “Thanks. You know how much I hate testifying.”
“Are you ready?”
She sighed, wishing tomorrow and her court appearance were already over. “I’ve typed my report and been over it four times.”
D.J. nodded. “Good. Make sure you can prove chain of custody on the video. Judge Robinson is a stickler for details.”
“You got it. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
Merlene stole a last look at D.J. as she exited his office and paused in the doorway. A tickle of worry nudged at her thoughts as she watched him struggle to take a breath, an effort which prompted a deep cough.
No wanting him to watch her hovering, she stepped out of his view, but waited in the hallway until his hacking ceased and she knew he was okay.
Moving toward her car, she wondered about D.J.’s health. Of course, he hated it when she fussed over him, but, damn, how could she help worrying? Seemed he was deteriorating a little each day. Well, too bad if he didn’t like her nagging about his meds. She’d keep reminding him anyway.
* * *
WHEN MERLENE’S TIRES crunched gravel in the driveway of her Coconut Grove home, she wished all her problems were as simple as proving the authenticity of her evidence. Her video of a philandering John Harris had never left her possession and certainly hadn’t been tampered with. The pickiest judge in the country would have no basis to exclude her absolute proof of infidelity.
But she was more worried about D.J. Anyone could tell his cough had worsened, and she suspected he hid something from her. He didn’t act worried about the investigation triggered by Detective Warren, but maybe that was a ruse, too. Were they in serious trouble with the licensing board thanks to Warren?
But they hadn’t done anything wrong, so why would they be?
And she dreaded talking to her client. She’d rather keep trustworthy records anytime than talk to a distraught wife about discontinuing surveillance on her jerk of a husband. All of this mess thanks to Cody Warren. The nerve of that man. So he’d really gone after her license.
Her mood lightened as she walked across the shaded front yard, savoring the scent of blooming gardenias. She’d bought this small, eighty-year-old house after her divorce from Peter, the only real home she’d ever had. To her, home meant safety, a refuge, a place to hide. She’d never felt any of those things while living with Peter.
After unlocking the front door, she collapsed onto her green leather couch and tossed her briefcase onto the cushion next to her. No way to hide from calling Mrs. Johnson tonight.
The phone rang before she’d had time to slip off her shoes.
“What have you found out about my husband and that woman?” Pat Johnson demanded. Merlene closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Nothing yet, Pat. In fact, I’ve seen no evidence at all after five days.”
Mrs. Johnson lowered her voice, as if conveying a sensitive government secret. “I think Rick is in Ocala.”
Merlene sat up. “Ocala?”
“We have a horse farm in Marion County, one of his little hobbies. I rarely visit, but I think he and that slut nurse are there together right now.”
“No, Pat. The nurse has been in her apartment all day. I was sitting out front. Listen, I’ll give you back half the retainer if you want to call this off.”
“Absolutely not. I know I’m right. Stay on it, Merlene, please.”
Merlene cringed at the insistence in Pat’s voice. “Pat, I hate to see you waste your money. I think there’s a chance that—”
“That he’s involved in something illegal?”
Merlene rose to her feet, clutching the cord. “Why do you say that?”
“I’m not stupid, and I have an office key,” Pat said. “Ever since that Linda Cole took over Rick’s office, billings have doubled. I think she’s gotten him involved in something, well, frankly, sordid. I have a feeling it’s not...legal.” Merlene waited as Pat sucked in a breath to regain control of her voice. “That’s why you have to...to prove their affair, so I can force him to break it off, get rid of her.” After another pause she said, “I have two children, Merlene. They need their father.”
“But, Pat...”
“I’ll double your fee.”
Merlene stopped pacing. So money obviously wasn’t a problem for Mrs. Johnson. She sighed. “All right, Pat. I’ll do my best. Tell me why you think your husband is in Ocala.”
“Because I got a call from a friend. He’s been seen in town. Alone, thank goodness. I want you to drive up there and check it out. Maybe his nurse is going to meet him there.”
“I guess that’s possible,” Merlene murmured, although if Cody were right, that definitely wouldn’t happen. But who was she to argue with her client?
“I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon,” Merlene said, now thinking with pleasure of a visit upstate courtesy of Pat Johnson’s expense account. The scenery in northern Florida reminded her of the Midwest—more woodsy, a lot less people crowding the roads. More room to breathe. She could leave as soon as she finished her testimony in the Harris divorce. The trip would provide a much-needed break from city life.
“Even when he comes back to Miami I want you to stay on this,” Mrs. Johnson continued. “I need to get absolute proof of his infidelity. Remember what I told you about my friend at Union Farm Insurance. One word from me and the job is yours.”
“Of course I’d appreciate that, Pat.” If she could nail a high-billing insurance gig, maybe D.J. could finally retire.
“Then do not let my husband out of your sight. Have you got a pen? I’ll give you directions.”
“Trouble,” Merlene muttered when she’d disconnected, staring at the address she’d jotted down, wondering if it would be hard to find. Her client might want her to stay on the case, but Detective Warren would not be happy. No indeed.
She relaxed against her sofa cushions, her thoughts drifting to Cody Warren. She couldn’t stop thinking about the man and his piercing blue eyes that noticed everything. What was really strange was how she actually liked how they circled each other, seeing who would give up information first. Enjoying that kind of conversation made absolutely no sense. He’d probably turn out to be another macho cop convinced he knew everything, one who didn’t care who he hurt as he shoved his way through life.
No, that wasn’t fair. After all, he had clued her in about the doctor and his nurse. He didn’t have to do that. He could have let her spin her wheels for weeks chasing the pair trying to catch them together. But then he’d probably told her so she wouldn’t keep sticking her nose into his big case.
His case. She sighed, tapping the pen against her chin. D.J. always cautioned her not to interfere with active police investigations. And she supposed his case was important, would in some way protect the citizens of Miami-Dade County. For sure Cody acted as if he thought the
case was vital, although he wouldn’t tell her anything specific.
So should she clue him in about Johnson being in Ocala? After all, he’d helped her. How had he put it? Trade information? Actually, telling him might be fun since he didn’t know where the doc was. Did the cops even know about the horse farm in Ocala? If so, had they bothered to look there?
She wrapped her arms around her knees and smiled, deciding to find Cody before her drive to North Florida. How would Mr. Don’t-Interfere-with-My-Case Warren react when she supplied him information he didn’t have? She nibbled at her bottom lip, picturing how he’d respond to her news, how those eyes would drill into her. Maybe she could get more details out of him about what the heck was going on with Dr. Johnson, why the cops were so hot to find him.
She’d follow D.J.’s advice and not reveal to Pat Johnson anything Cody told her. Still, her client already suspected something was up and blamed Nurse Linda Cole. But Cody insisted the nurse and the doctor were not involved romantically.
So what was really going on?
* * *
CODY RECOGNIZED HER by the maddening sway of her hips and the bounce of that amazing cascade of hair. He knew he’d run into Merlene Saunders again but hadn’t expected it to be so soon, and definitely not in the lobby of the Miami-Dade County Courthouse.
What was she doing here? For sure not following Nurse Cole for Pat Johnson. The nurse had shown up in Dr. Johnson’s office this morning like clockwork.
He was anxious for his conference with the prosecutor on the Johnson case, but seeing Merlene made him want to slow down and find out what she was up to.
“Hold it,” he shouted, and stuck his hand into the closing elevator. The doors jumped open and he squeezed in the crowded car beside her.
“Morning,” he said, letting his gaze wander over her tiny but shapely form. She did indeed look good.
“Detective Warren,” she said.
He smiled down at her, noting her briefcase and a professional navy blue suit. Leaning over, he spoke close to her ear. “If I didn’t know better, Merlene, I’d say you were a lawyer ready for trial.”
She switched her briefcase to the front of her body and grasped it with both hands. “I’m here as a witness.”
“Ah. Keeping Miami-Dade County safe from cheating husbands?”
Smoky-gray eyes shifted from the elevator door to meet his gaze. Her discomfort was easy to read. “And to think I’d decided to help you.”
Damn. He’d forgotten she had no sense of humor. “Help me?”
She shrugged and raised her chin.
The elevator stopped on six, and he nodded at two smiling clerks from Judge White’s office as they exited. “Ladies.”
When the doors closed and the car resumed its upward motion, he turned back to Merlene. “How are you going to help me?”
Although all eyes focused politely elsewhere, he knew the remaining occupants of the car listened to their conversation. Merlene knew it, too, and shot him a chilling glance, one meant to shut him up.
He caught her gaze and smiled. She hesitated, then shook her head. Pleasure slid past Cody’s defenses as her full lips curved into a tentative smile. She faced the burnished metal doors again.
“Never mind,” she said. “Maybe I’ll call you later.”
“Why not talk now?”
“I’m due in court.”
He studied her profile, thinking she was as lovely in the harsh, artificial light of the elevator as she had been in the softer, muted shadows of early evening. A subtle, warm fragrance of citrus—was it lemon or orange?—hung in the air.
As the car slowed down for the tenth floor—his stop—he said, “Last chance, Merlene.”
She threw him an unreadable look. “Good luck, Detective.”
Tucking his arm into hers, he drew her out of the elevator with him.
“Hey...” She pulled away, but the doors had already closed behind them.
Cody released her arm and threw her a grin. “Now you know how it feels to be abducted.”
“This is not the same and you know it.”
“No?”
“No.” Merlene jabbed the call button, but at this busy time of the morning in this old building it would take forever for another elevator to arrive. She was already nervous about testifying, and now she’d probably be late. Damn Cody.
“I need to be on the twelfth floor in about two minutes,” she said, “and now—thanks to you—I’ll be late.”
“Maybe you should have left home earlier.”
She punched the button again, knowing her impatience wouldn’t hurry the machinery in the least, wishing she could jab her finger into Cody’s chest instead.
“What’s going on, Merlene? I know you have something to tell me.”
“And how do you know that?” Furious, she turned to confront him but was stopped by his probing gaze, a look that brought all of her senses to full alert. Warmth spread outward from the spot on her arm where he had touched her.
“Because I’m a detective,” he said.
“Yeah? Well, so am I.” And she had never been as aware of a man as she was of Cody Warren at this moment, of his height a full foot over her, of the confident way he stood, of a muscular body full of power and authority. Sexy as hell, and infuriating.
Turning back to the elevator, she looked up at the light. At least a car was descending. But of course it stopped on twelve—her floor.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm herself. “Did you ever find Dr. Johnson?”
“No. We still don’t know where the hell he is.”
“I might know.”
He took a step closer. “Yeah? Where?”
“His wife thinks he’s in Ocala. I’m driving up this afternoon to check it out at her request.”
“She thinks he’s staying at the ranch?”
“Exactly.” So Cody knew about the ranch. Of course he did. She took a sideways glance at him and decided he looked confused. Yes, this was fun.
“Why would the doc go to the ranch in the middle of the week? He had a calendar full of patients.”
“I don’t know why, but a friend spotted him in town and my client wants me to investigate. She thinks he’s there with Nurse Cole on some sort of romantic getaway.” Merlene shrugged. “We know different, of course, but I couldn’t convince her.”
Cody ran a hand through his thick, sun-streaked hair. “Going to Ocala right now makes no sense.”
“What do you mean? Why doesn’t it make sense?” She’d given Cody some good info. Maybe he’d share some in return.
“Did you tell Pat Johnson about the police investigation?”
“I know better than that.” She sighed. Cody loved to answer a question with a question. Great strategy to wiggle off the hook. And once again, she learned nothing.
“I was wondering if that’s what made Johnson disappear,” he said.
“Well, if he knows, I promise that info didn’t come from me.”
“Thanks,” Cody said. “I appreciate it.”
“I can tell you this, though,” Merlene said. “Pat suspects her husband is into something illegal and that our Nurse Cole led him down that crooked path.”
Cody laughed. “Yeah, women are a bad influence.”
“Not funny. She’s worried about her kids.”
“Yeah, I’m aware he has kids.” He shook his head and after a pause said, “Ocala doesn’t add up.”
“Maybe not,” Merlene agreed, “but as long as my client pays my bill, I do what she asks.”
Cody jammed balled fists into his pants pockets; body language that told her he was really worried about something. What was it? Damn. Why wouldn’t he tell her anything?
“Do you carry a gun?” he asked.
“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?