Shawn quickly corrected him. “Unless he’s banging that sexy reporter. Then wouldn’t you consider her a suspect as well?”
“Good point. But good luck getting either one of them to give up that information, if it’s true.” Flashing the papers Shawn gave him, he said, “I’m hoping the phone records will give me a little something. Otherwise, I got nothing. How ‘bout you? What do you have going on this week?”
He rolled his eyes. “Same old smack heads, different day.”
They both turned their chairs in the direction of the door upon hearing Chief Holden clear his throat as he entered the room. He held a large cup of coffee in one hand, his other stuffed in his left front pants pocket. “Good morning. Hope you all had a nice weekend. Although I know you spent half of it here.” Shawn gave Martinez another roll of his eyes. “You’re work is appreciated, Johnson.”
“Well thanks for letting us know, Chief.”
He raised his mug and took a sip of his coffee. “So, word on the wire is one of our favorite felons is due to be released by the end of the week.”
Shawn scrunched his forehead in frustration showing his wrinkles and asked, “Oh yeah, who’s that?”
Martinez chimed in, “This should be interesting.”
“I’m afraid just a little more interesting for you, Martinez,” he said looking at him over the top of his black frames. “Steve Robinson was granted parole. He’s due to be released Friday.”
The look on his face was pure shock. “Friday? They just had the damn hearing!”
Shawn hung his head slightly as if waiting for the room to explode.
Shaking his head and holding his hands out waiting for an explanation, Martinez said, “Chief? Has Elizabeth heard about this?”
He breathed deeply and hung his head as well for a moment. He scratched the top of his head and pushed his long fingers through his white locks. Looking up at Martinez he informed him, “I can only tell you what I know and at this point it ain’t much. I’ve seen parole approvals go quickly but this has to be a record. As far as Elizabeth, I assume Marilyn informed her. I guess I figured you would have talked to her this weekend.”
Guilt washed over him. “I – I’ve been so busy with this investigation, I haven’t even touched base with her. I mean I did but… Shit!”
“Well, I’ll let the two of you sort that out. In the meantime, Johnson, I need you to get a hold of Robinson’s parole officer. We’re gonna want to get a head of the game. Far as I know Robinson gave a Silverton address. He’ll do an about-face and when he does, I want to be ready. We need to be updated by his PO with every meeting he has and I want you or someone from this department at every random search of his residence. Also, find out how often we can conduct a random search and make sure it’s done. Keep a close eye on him.”
Giving the chief a nod, Shawn rolled his chair into his desk and went back to work. Martinez immediately spoke up. “I want in on this, Chief.”
He took a big gulp of his coffee, savoring the flavor for a moment. He pushed his lips together and stared into his cup thinking. “Now I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Martinez.”
“Oh, come on! Chief, I need this.”
“You’re too close to this. The last thing I need is Robinson reverting back to his old ways and a charge not sticking because you have a conflict of interest or heaven forbid he dream up some harassment lawsuit against the department. I don’t need the headache. Johnson’s got this handled. He’s drug enforcement. You’re homicide. Period.”
“Seriously? I wouldn’t jeopardize my career or the department for that asshole. I just -”
He turned his back to Martinez and headed towards his office. “End of discussion. Johnson will keep you abreast of the situation. Right, Johnson?” With that he walked out.
Shawn turned to Martinez. “Don’t worry man. I got this! I’ll keep you updated. Besides, we roll together all the time.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Once in a while I may have to make a stop and you just happen to be there.” He gave Martinez a wink and looked back at his computer screen.
Martinez pursed his lips thuggishly and slowly nodded his head. Returning to his own computer, he opened his email from Investigator McMurphy, which read, “Detective Martinez, please find below the original message I sent you regarding the date and time change of the parole hearing for Steve Robinson. If you have any other questions, please do not hesitate to contact me.” He was frustrated to see the message was indeed sent to his email address the previous Monday. Somehow, it was never received. The clock on his computer read 8:45 am. He knew Elizabeth would be downstairs getting ready for the influx of victims at municipal court. “Hey, Johnson, I’m gonna head downstairs and make a phone call then see if I can’t catch up with Liz real quick, in case Chief comes looking for me.”
Almost irritated by the interruption, Shawn didn’t look up from his work. “Yeah, sure, man.”
Martinez rose from his chair, grabbed his cell phone and headed for the stairwell. His feet slid down the stairs with agility. Reaching the heavy, steel door, he pulled the handle and walked through the police station lobby and past the records window to outside. He pulled up a contact on his phone and hit send.
“Yo, Medicine Man, here. What’s your ailment?”
“Miles, it’s Martinez. I need a favor.”
“Sup, Martinez.” Miles Murphy was parked on the side of the road and looked up over his dark sunglasses at the flashing police lights in the rearview mirror of his Cadillac. “You be like my guardian Angel, brotha. Da big man upstairs be lookin’ out, my man. Yo, whachu need?”
“I got a job for you, Miles.
