Page 15 of Heat of Justice

“Uh, no.” Cody cleared her throat. “I think that’s it.”

“Good. Then we’re done here.”

Reed stood up and walked to the door without waiting for confirmation.

“Hold it,” Cody prompted, earning herself a stormy glance she chose to ignore. “Take this. Call me if anything more comes to you.”

Reed took the card she handed to her, barely glanced at it, and shoved it in her pocket.

“You will keep me posted.”

Though she made it sound like an order, Cody did not need to be psychic to sense her level of anxiety. For this reason, she was not reluctant to answer.

“You can definitely count on it,” she approved. “I’ll speak to you soon, Ms. Reed.”

chapter 6

Cody watched her leave. Reed walked proudly and, some might say, with a hint of arrogance in the tilt of her head. Like she did own the place, and everyone in it as well. Except that now, Cody knew a lot more about what was going on with her under the surface than Reed let on. She went back to her office, cast a thoughtful glance at the empty crime board, and decided that she would take a look into the Cassie Winters case after all. Swinging by the woman’s apartment on the way home seemed like a good idea to kick things off.

“Later, Lance,” she tossed on her way out.

“See ya.” He nodded and rolled his eyes as the phone went off again. “Fun never stops.”

“Come on, you love it.”

“Yeah, right. Watch out for the crazies out there.”

“Of course not; where would be the fun in that?”

He laughed and waved her off. Thirty minutes later, Cody parked her unmarked unit in front of a two-story building on the outskirts of what used to be Lewiston town. Now it was referred to asold-Lewiston, to differentiate it from the sprawling urban area that had sprung all around it. Lewiston used to be a surfer town. Low on crime, easy on the families who lived there. Now, part of it attracted rich people who could afford the old homes and sprawling mansions with striking views of the ocean. The other part, where Cody hoped to find Cassie Wintersalive and well, was a little more run-down. Definitely grittier. Surfers still hung around the place, also popular with a number of artists, and the odd drug dealer. Cody took a second to assess her surroundings as she got out of her vehicle. The apartment building appeared in fairly good nick. Of course, there was graffiti on the side, and the front door’s locking mechanism seemed to be busted. She’d seen a lot worse. Inside, she opted for the stairs instead of the tired-looking elevator. Music, the sound of a TV, or a crying baby, could be heard from behind some of the doors she passed. She paused in front of Cassie Winters’ apartment and had a quick listen. Male voices. Sounded like a group of them in there. Cody knocked once and stepped out of the line of the spy hole while she waited. It did not take long.

“Yo!” The door swung open on a lingering cloud of cigar smoke. A stocky, balding guy about six feet tall, dressed in blue jeans and a grey tank top that may have once been white, eyed her speculatively. “Huh. You’re not the pizza guy.”

“Correct, I’m not.” She lifted one side of her shirt to display the badge on her belt. “Detective Cody Miller, Lewiston P.D. I’m looking for Jack Winters.”

“Yeah, he’s in.” As he said this, the man also raked his eyes all over her from top to bottom.

“Problem?” she asked, as he looked baffled.

She also did not like the way that he fixed her.

“No, no.” He shrugged. “You’re not what I expected, but come on in.”

Alert and ready, she walked in after him into the darkened apartment. It stank of cigar smoke and cheap alcohol. The source of it all was the kitchen, where three other men sat around a table, playing cards. A reasonable stack of twenty-dollar bills was piled in the middle. Empty beer bottles lined the counter; Cody spotted some on the floor next to their chairs. The men all looked pretty much the same. Big beefy guys who mayhave been athletic and healthy once upon a time. Judging from their current appearance, Cody bet none of them had seen the inside of a gym in a good few years. The only lifting they did now probably just involved beer bottles.

“Jack Winters?” she repeated.

“That’s me.” The one directly in front of her leaned back in his chair to give her the same sort of once-over that the first one had.

“Huh,” he grunted when she introduced herself. “They run out of Pamela Anderson or what?”

His buddies all laughed.Inside joke?Cody wondered. It was clearly at her expense. Their eyes roaming all over her were like little critters crawling on her skin, and she fought the impulse to shiver.

“Anyway, go on,” he grunted, staring at her breasts.

“I’m sorry?”

“Let’s see what you got under there.”

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