To Trust a Cop. Sharon Hartley

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      Fascinated, he watched her absently twirl a strand of thick hair around a long, graceful finger, the diamond ring flashing with her movements.

      “I’ll run it by D.J.” She dropped her hand to the steering wheel and narrowed her eyes. “But don’t feed me any nonsense about you pulling my license if I don’t back off. I know you can’t do that. It takes months...probably a year to suspend a P.I.’s license.”

      “I didn’t say one word about suspending your license.”

      They’d arrived back at Linda’s apartment. Without speaking again, Merlene pulled in next to his white, unmarked unit.

      “Are you going or staying?” he asked, not caring that he sounded sharp.

      “Going. For now. I’ll let D.J. tell me what to do. I trust him.” She met his gaze as if daring him to object.

      “Fine,” Cody said. “I don’t want to say, ‘See you around,’ exactly, but...”

      She crossed her arms. “I won’t promise to stay out of your way.”

      “Then I guess I will see you around.”

      * * *

      “LICENSING BOARD?” Merlene stared at D. J. Cooke behind his cluttered desk. She’d thought her boss looked more tired than usual. Now she knew why. “What do you mean you’ve heard from the licensing board?”

      “Something about your client’s husband,” D.J. said with a sigh. “Interference with the police. They’re sending an investigator out next week to interview me.”

      “They’re starting an investigation?”

      “Routine, I’m sure,” D.J. said.

      “Damn that Cody Warren,” Merlene muttered. “I knew he was nothing but trouble.”

      “Cody Warren?”

      She nodded. “That’s the cop who rousted me off surveillance on the Johnson case.”

      “Cody. Doggone it. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a dog’s age.”

      In spite of her annoyance, Merlene grinned at D.J.’s wrinkled face. Her boss always resorted to Ozark slang on a trip down memory lane.

      “He remembered you, too,” she said. “He said you were a good man. His exact words.” She stared at her lap, organizing her notes from the surveillance. “That’s the only nice thing he said all day. I should have known he’d pull something like this.”

      D.J. made a clucking sound. “Little Cody. I’m glad he stuck it out.”

      “Well, he’s not little anymore,” she said, remembering the way his white shirt had stretched across a muscular back.

      D.J. didn’t seem to hear her. “It sure was rough on him there for a while.”

      She raised her gaze. “What was?”

      D.J. sighed. “Bad business. His dad was a longtime beat cop and got caught shaking down shop owners for protection money. Cody was a rookie when the scandal broke.”

      “He seems to have survived.” So she and Cody had the same rotten luck when it came to their parents.

      “I can’t rightly recall what happened to Bill Warren, but Cody became a cop who plays it strictly by the book.” Tapping his glasses against his cheek, D.J. swiveled in his chair and looked out the office window. “He worked in homicide for a while, then asked for assignment to the fraud division.”

      Merlene followed his gaze outside to a suburban backyard. Two small brown squirrels chased each other around the gnarled trunk of an avocado tree. Her boss conducted business out of his home now, taking only an occasional case, allowing Merlene to work as many surveillance jobs as she could land.

      She watched the squirrels fuss at each other. Probably squirrel husband and wife, she thought. But at least one of them still wanted the other.

      D.J. coughed. Not liking the sound, she shifted her gaze back to his face and really didn’t like what she saw. D.J. looked exhausted. No, more than that. He looked sick, his face as pale and white as his hair.

      “Hey, are you okay, boss?” she asked softly.

      “Fit as a fiddle,” he said with the wave of a thin hand. “Don’t worry about me.” D.J. swiveled back and placed his forearms on the desk. “I’ve handled much worse problems in my career.”

      She nodded, thinking he definitely didn’t need the stress of a Division of Licensing inquiry at this stage in his life.

      “What should I tell Mrs. Johnson?” she asked.

      “You’ve never seen the doctor and the nurse together away from the office?” D.J. asked.

      “Never.”

      “Call your client. Tell her you’ve got nothing. Let her make the decision.”

      Merlene nodded. “Good enough. I’ll even offer to refund some of the retainer.”

      “Is money part of the problem in this marriage? From the home address, I thought they were loaded.”

      “Could be. I definitely get the feeling the doc keeps her on a tight leash,” Merlene said. “And I remember what it’s like to be divorced, broke and unemployed. Scary. Maybe she’s got nobody to help her. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know where I’d be right now.” D.J. and his wife had been there for her when she hit rock bottom after the divorce.

      “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 СКАЧАТЬ