Sharon Hartley - To Trust a Cop

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.