Неизвестный - 3. In Pursuit Of Justice

Watts merely regarded her with his bland, laid-back to the point of stupor expression and said, “Because it’s bullshit. And if I had any idea who started that talk, I’d wait for them out here in the parking lot some night after dark and kick the crap out of them. Cruz was a cop who died in the line of duty, and you don’t tarnish their badge until you see it carved in stone.”

Rebecca started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. There wasn’t any reason to comment. For once, she and Watts were in perfect agreement.

Three hours later, Rebecca dropped Watts off in front of the 18th. “I need to stop around to Sloan’s office and put in an appearance,” she said. “You want to write this up and run those names through the computer?”

Sure,” Watts said, considering it wise not to mention that she was supposed to be on desk duty and he was supposed to be the leg man. Whoever thought they could put Frye behind a desk didn’t know her very well, or knew her well enough to know that it would be a sit down job in name only. “Hey Sarge,” he added as if in afterthought, “if you’re going to be poking around in other departments, you might not want to spread around why.”

Rebecca studied him thoughtfully. Not counting the period of her recovery, she and Watts had really only worked together a few weeks. She had absolutely no reason to trust him, but she finally had to admit to herself that she did. “What are you saying, Watts?”

“I’m not saying anything,” he said innocently. He looked like he was about to scratch his balls, and then thought better of it, putting his hand in his pocket instead. “I just think it pays to be careful until we know what happened to Hogan and Cruz.”

“You think we have a mole?”

“Don’t you?” His expression didn’t change, but his eyes grew hard.

She looked away for a second, thinking of all the inconsistencies that had surfaced in just a few days. Homicide had apparently dropped the investigation of two dead detectives; files were missing from the crime scene lab concerning the deaths of the same two cops; arrest reports containing information that might have pointed towards a local child pornography network had been buried; and, finally, she had been quietly assigned to an investigation that was being run from outside the department but which seemed to have connections to local organized crime figures. She was beginning to wonder exactly who Avery Clark was investigating. “Yeah, Watts, I do. So you watch your back, too, okay?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Sarge. I don’t intend to make waves.” Whistling, he turned and walked away.

She watched him for a minute, wondering how many people he had fooled with his nonchalant facade. Watts was a good cop, and that was one department secret she was happy to have uncovered. Just as she was about to pull away, her beeper went off and she recognized the University Hospital’s number. She fished her cell phone from her pocket and punched in the number even as she headed across town toward University City.

“This is Frye,” she said when the call was picked up.

“It’s Catherine, Rebecca.”

Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat. “Hey. I’m just on my way over. Can I see you?”

“I’m in my office.”

“Is everything okay?” There was an odd formality to Catherine’s tone that made Rebecca uneasy.

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

“Okay,” Rebecca replied suspiciously. It hadn’t been her experience that when a woman wanted to talk to her that it was something minor. Especially not when she and that woman had parted on less than perfect terms the night before.

Catherine laughed, picking up on Rebecca’s uncertainty. “And I wanted to tell you that I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“Good. Drive carefully.”

An instant after Rebecca knocked, Catherine answered the door.

“Hi,” Rebecca said, feeling uncertain.

“Hi.” Catherine took her hand and pulled her into the waiting room that adjoined her office. She closed the door behind Rebecca. “Joyce is at lunch, and I don’t have a session for an hour. What about you?”

“My schedule is my own. I’m still on light-duty, remember.”

“Yes, I know that’s what it’s called,” Catherine said dryly. “Come on back to my office.”

Catherine locked her inner office door and motioned Rebecca to the couch, then settled beside her. Before she could speak, Rebecca slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her. It was more than a simple hello kiss. There was an edge to it, an underlying pulse of hunger that immediately aroused her. She kissed her back, for longer than she should have, but she liked knowing that she stirred this desire in her lover. Finally, she broke away, her palm against Rebecca’s chest. “I’m working,” she gasped. “I have to see patients in less than an hour. I can’t sit here all afternoon in a state of sexual frustration.”

“I could fix that in just a few minutes.”

Catherine laughed. “I have no doubt that you could. But I think I’d rather anticipate now and be satisfied later at a slightly more leisurely pace.”

“Then that’s what you shall have,” Rebecca to promised, lifting Catherine’s hand from her chest and kissing her palm. Serious now she asked, “What did you need to see me about?”

Catherine appeared uncharacteristically hesitant as she glanced away, and then met Rebecca’s gaze squarely. Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, “I was contacted by Agent Avery Clark this morning. He requested my services as a consultant to a task force he’s running.”

Rebecca stiffened and her eyes grew cold. “Son of a bitch,” she said softly. “How did he get your name?”

“I’m on the list of departmental consultants,” Catherine said. “He also mentioned Captain Henry.”

Rebecca got up and quickly crossed the room to the window that fronted the street. She’d stood there once before, the first night she’d met Catherine, but it had been dark then. She watched University students come and go, carefree and confident. It was a beautiful early September day. Without turning, she said, “What did you say?”

“I said I would get back to him. This is your task force, isn’t it?”

“No,” Rebecca said sharply, her back still to the room. “It’s Clark’s task force.”

“You know what I mean.”

There was no anger or accusation in Catherine’s voice, and Rebecca realized that Catherine had not instigated the situation. Turning to face her, she tried to figure out why she felt like punching something. “I’m sorry. You caught me off guard. Yes, it’s the task force I’m involved with — the pornography prostitution investigation.”

“I work with the police fairly frequently, Rebecca. It’s likely that you and I will come into professional contact from time to time.”

“I know. Why didn’t you give Clark your answer earlier?” She tried and failed to keep the anger from her voice.

“Because this is the first time it’s come up for us,” Catherine said gently. “I wanted to see how you felt about it.”

“The last time you and I worked together it ended badly.”

“This isn’t the same thing, though, is it?” When Rebecca was silent, Catherine rose and crossed to her. “Is it, Rebecca? You said this was more or less an administrative assignment for you. That it wasn’t dangerous. Is there more to it than that?”

“No,” Rebecca said, deciding that there was no point in bringing up her suspicions and speculations about something going on behind the scenes in the department. She didn’t really have any facts, and there was no point in worrying her for nothing. Still, she didn’t like the idea of Catherine being anywhere near the investigation. “I wonder why he isn’t bringing in his own people. If there’s one thing the feds have plenty of, it’s profilers.”