To Trust a Cop. Sharon Hartley
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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 thought she might be sequestered, not allowed to hear the other witness’s testimony until sworn in, but her client’s attorney informed her there was a chance the case could settle thanks to her surveillance. Merlene secretly crossed her fingers. She certainly hoped so. She hated testifying.
But, man, had this Mr. John Harris ever changed his story since his wife had filed for divorce. At first he denied any wrongdoing, but he couldn’t do that under oath once he’d viewed her video of his frequent visits to his secretary’s town house.
Poor guy. She thought Harris might actually cry. Not that she had any sympathy for him. She remembered Carol Harris’s tears when she watched the video that confirmed a wife’s worst suspicions. Because of Merlene’s surveillance, John Harris would have to cough up a lot more money per month for his wife and kids.
Of course he could afford plenty of alimony and child support. She’d seen his income tax returns for the last three years. She’d never realized one person actually made that much money.
Judge Robinson summoned the lawyers up to the bench for a sidebar conference no one else could hear. Were they about to settle? Glancing at her watch, Merlene hoped she’d be called soon or they reached an agreement. She planned to leave for Ocala by one, but that wouldn’t happen at the pace this hearing plodded along. She might have to wait until tomorrow.
As happened all too often, her thoughts drifted to Detective Cody Warren, he of the piercing blue eyes and wide shoulders. No question Cody made her nuts. She couldn’t remember ever responding to a man the way she did to him. And it made no sense. How could he infuriate her but make her feel totally alive and glad to be with him at the same time? And Cody was likely married. Men that looked like him always were.
She glanced at John Harris, who still waited in the witness chair. Out of nowhere she hoped Cody wasn’t a cheating husband like this man.
An envelope thrust into her lap jarred Merlene from her thoughts. As she glanced up, her breath caught when she found Cody standing to her left. He smiled and winked, then hurried up the aisle. She turned in her seat and watched him exit the double swinging doors.
She took a quick glance around the courtroom. The judge and counsel were still engrossed in their bench conference. She took a deep breath. No one else had even noticed Cody.
Relieved that he hadn’t waited around to watch her testify, she slashed open the envelope with her pen.
In large spidery scrawl he’d written: “Meet me before you leave for Ocala. After three I’ll be at Tamiami Little League Park. Find me. It’s important. Cody.”
Her heart racing from his startling appearance, she read the note over and over. He’d underlined “important” twice and used an exclamation mark.
Cody wanted her to meet him at a Little League park? What could be so important?
And who did he think he was? Her boss?
She bit her lip as she slipped Cody’s note into her briefcase. If she postponed her trip until three, it would put her into Ocala after dark. But the hearing hadn’t even resumed yet, and from the amount of questions the judge was asking the lawyers, it looked like it might be a while before the testimony resumed. She’d already considered the option of postponing a day.
Should she find Cody later? Of course D.J. would want her to cooperate.
Still, when would cops ever stop telling her what to do? This one in particular enjoyed ordering her around, making her life miserable. Merlene crossed her legs and edged down her skirt, wondering how her spirits could possibly lift because she anticipated an afternoon meeting with Detective Cody Warren.
If she were honest with herself—always hard to do when it came to Cody Warren—she liked the idea that he’d sought her out and wanted to meet with her. She liked it too much. Was it about the case? Of course. What else could he want to see her about? She doubted he found her as attractive as she found him. No way would his steady cop’s heart race as hers just had if she showed up unexpectedly in his life. She’d practically had to fan herself with her notebook when she saw him. She could tell herself her reaction stemmed from nerves over her imminent testimony, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.
Yeah, she’d meet Cody later. She wanted to know what was up. Heck, she looked forward to another one of their standoffs where they jockeyed for position and each other’s information. Jockeying for position? That thought brought up all kinds of erotic notions and rocketed a shiver down her spine. What was wrong with her?
Judge Robinson banged his gavel and called the hearing back into session. Merlene shook her head and forced her attention away from images of a naked Cody Warren.
* * *
THE CRACK OF a ball slamming into a bat echoed through Tamiami Park. Merlene paused next to a game in progress as the image of her little brother punching a mitt flooded her memory. Donny had loved to play first base more than he’d loved to eat, and she’d loved watching him.
She took a deep breath. How long had it been since she’d remembered the fun of watching kids playing baseball? Too long.
She relaxed as she inhaled the sweet fragrance of freshly mowed grass. Four or five boisterous games were in progress on fields surrounding her. A carnival atmosphere enlivened a park full of squealing kids and boastful parents. Oh, look at that young catcher in his bulky uniform. Merlene laughed, remembering how once in a pinch she’d subbed as an umpire for Donny’s game. What a disaster that had turned into.
A light breeze ruffled her hair and brought the fragrance of fresh popcorn and cotton candy. Donny’s usual after-game snack had been a lime snow cone. She closed her eyes and tasted the sweet-tart flavor of her little brother’s favorite treat.
After a nostalgic moment or two absorbing this familiar all-American scene, Merlene remembered why she’d come.
Right. Back to business. So how would she locate Cody? No help but to look for him game by game.
With fingers entwined in a tall chain-link fence behind home plate, she searched the closest field, figuring Cody must be coaching his son’s Little League team. Of course, the man was married and had kids. The absence of a ring never meant a thing. She ignored the nagging sense of disappointment that accompanied her thoughts.
She considered leaving without finding him. How embarrassing that she’d allowed her imagination to take off like a runaway train.
But no. What did she care if the man had ten kids? She’d come on business, pure and simple. And, damn, she wanted to find out what was so important.
At the third game she visited, she looked up at a tap on her shoulder.
“Keep your eye on the shortstop. We’re convinced he’s headed for the majors.”
“Yeah?”
Cody towered over her, his eyes hidden by dark sunglasses. “No doubt about it.”
Merlene judged the shortstop in question to be around eight or nine, his hair a similar light brown color