she noted. “Who knows? Maybe this scared him enough to start him thinking.”
“We can always count on Ricky to badger him about that.” Cruz chuckled. “Ramsey might not know it, but his little brother saved his butt for him, big time.”
When they arrived back at district headquarters, Madeline declined to go in with Cruz.
“We need to plan our next move,” he argued, surprised at her reluctance.
“It’ll have to wait until tomorrow, at least for me. I have something else I have to do tonight.”
He frowned, but shrugged as she got into her car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Madeline drove back to Internal Affairs and unlocked the file she’d started last night and sat back down at the computer. Last night she’d discovered the owner of the building Cruz had visited last night. A check of the tenants had listed Daniel A. Chambers as a tenant on the third floor. Now she had a place to start. She scoured every file she could for information on him. He had no criminal record, but seemed to have a parking ticket problem that he needed to see to. She switched to a different data base, and asked the computer for all properties and businesses with his name on them.
While she waited impatiently for the information to appear on the screen, her mind wandered. She’d been having an unusually difficult time concentrating since trailing Cruz last night, and her stomach was tied in what seemed to be permanent knots. This constant uncertainty about him, the continual search into his background, was having an undeniable effect on her. Until she’d been paired with Cruz, she’d never before had difficulty maintaining a single-minded attention to an investigation. But he’d been the exception to many of her rules to date.
Determinedly she moved her gaze to the screen, and her eyebrows lifted as she read the impressive list of properties under Daniel Chambers’s name. Halfway down the list Chambers’s name became paired with others, apparently partners of his. When she noted Cruz’s name listed next to his, she had to blink, wondering for a second if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Cruz was listed on three different properties with Chambers, but Madeline couldn’t be sure from the names exactly what kind of businesses they were.
Deciding the telephone would be a quicker route to her answer, Madeline reached for the phone book and the receiver. By the time she had called each business on the list, she was certain she’d found the source of Cruz’s second income. But she still wasn’t sure she believed it. Dropping the receiver in its cradle, she leaned back in her chair, bemused. The irony of what she’d just learned didn’t escape her.
Cruz Martinez was in the restaurant business.
Chapter 14
Madeline couldn’t prevent a wry smile at the revelation. It should come as no great surprise to her, after all. The man had been commenting on her eating habits since she met him. Everything from her choice of dining establishments to her meal selections had warranted discussion. And he’d certainly proven to her when he’d come to her apartment that he could cook.
Madeline glanced at her watch, then signed off the computer and returned to her desk. Rapidly she began to type up a report for Brewer detailing what she’d found tonight. She knew she still didn’t have anything conclusive to report. Just because she’d discovered the source of Cruz’s extra income didn’t mean he couldn’t also be involved with the gun suppliers. The end product was as concise and analytical as usual. When she’d finished, she paper- clipped the pages together and slipped them into a file folder. Most of the other workers had left long ago, and the building was dim, except for lights at the desks of a few others working late. As she stretched her stiff shoulders tiredly, a voice came from behind, startling her.
“You’re sure working late, Casey. Hope that means I can expect to see a report from you sometime soon.”
Madeline willed her muscles, which had all tensed at the unexpected voice, to relax. Turning her chair to face the speaker, she said mildly, “Captain Brewer. You’re here late, too. I didn’t expect to see you.”
The captain looked a bit haggard. Right now his suit coat was slung over one arm and his tie had been loosened. She noted absently that the bald spot on the top of his head seemed more pronounced. She felt an unusual pang of compassion for him. He looked as if he’d spent a few days in misery. However, at his next words, all her empathy disappeared.
“I’m beginning to think I made a mistake assigning you to Martinez. I need some answers, and I need them fast. When are you going to have them for me?”
Her fleeting sympathy gone, she was left with a familiar desire to see him strangle on his tie. She had to content herself with the satisfaction she felt at seeing his face when she handed him the file folder in her hand. “Here you go, Captain. I was going to leave this on your desk. Although my investigation on Martinez isn’t over, I do have some new information for you.”
She waited with far more equanimity than she was feeling. It was second nature for her to hide her feelings behind an emotionless mask when dealing with him. His reaction wasn’t long in coming.
He snapped the file folder and uttered a foul imprecation. “Is that all you’ve got?”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she answered caustically. “Exactly what is it you were hoping for? I told you the investigation wasn’t finished.”
“What I was hoping for,” he muttered bad-temperedly, “was that one of my people would get something,
“You mean none of the other investigations have come up with anything on the other detectives, either?” she asked slowly.
He shook his head morosely. “And if all five detectives do check out, it could mean the snitch was wrong about a cop being involved in the gun supply. Hell, maybe the snitch was high and dreamed the whole thing up. But you can bet I’m going to have a bloody time convincing the brass of that. They’re worried about the department’s image, and they want to see someone’s head on the block.”
From Brewer’s aggrieved tone it was plain that he was more worried about having to answer to his superiors than he was about making sure a cop wasn’t falsely accused. Madeline swallowed her sense of disgust. It was an emotion she was used to feeling around him. She rose, reaching for her suit jacket and purse.
“So how’s the rest of the investigation coming?” he inquired as she slipped into her coat. “How close are you to nailing the supplier?”
“It’s coming together,” she answered shortly. “I really don’t think it will be much longer.”
“You don’t think so, huh?” When he said nothing else, Madeline stifled a sigh and started to walk away.
“Casey.”
His voice stopped her, and she took a breath before turning to face him inquiringly.
He tapped the file folder with one finger. “Good work on this. Factual, as always.”
The compliment took her by surprise, and made her a little wary. “Thank you, sir.”
“Tell me something. Forget the hard evidence we’re looking for. What’s your gut feeling on Martinez? If you had to guess, I mean. Is he dirty?”
She stared at him for what seemed an eternity. “I don’t know” was on her tongue, waiting to be uttered. She was a meticulous investigator; she didn’t draw conclusions without proof. But she knew the captain well enough to know that he wouldn’t let her get away with that. He was asking her, in a rare moment off the record, to reveal what her instincts told her about the man she was investigating.
Instincts. She shied away from the word. She hadn’t relied on instincts since the one time they’d led her astray, by allowing her to trust Dennis Belding. She considered them now. For the first time she pushed aside all the logic, all the facts she’d found in this convoluted case, and concentrated purely on what she felt. What her innermost feelings told her. It was surprising how clearly the answer came to her.
“No,” she said evenly. “I don’t think so.”
Brewer merely grunted again, and flipped open the file she’d given him. But she couldn’t dismiss her own words so easily. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to think them, much less say them out loud. She turned away from the captain, shaken. Something inside her wanted to call the words back; another part stood by them. Swiftly she walked from the building to her car.
Once she got into her vehicle, she sat motionless. She hadn’t come up with the kind of positive proof that
