“How do you know that?” she asked.
“Oh . . . I don’t know. I guess maybe I heard it on the news or read it in the papers,” he said.
“It’s interesting how something like that sticks in your mind, isn’t it, Doc?” Max said arching her brow. “She is a beautiful woman. I’ll give you that. So why do you think this person, whom you don’t seem to know, showed up in her office?”
“Detective, will you please stop that damn pacing?” he barked. “You’re making me nuts.”
“Sorry, but it helps me think better.” She continued her pacing. “So what did this person want?”
“I don’t really know why this person went to see her, and now I’m wishing I hadn’t said anything at all.”
“So let me see if I have this right. You don’t know her on a personal level, yet you know she’s not married, and she called you to say someone was snooping around? Do I have that correct?” Max stuck a folded piece of gum into her mouth and chewed. “You were having an affair with her, weren’t you?”
“No. I wasn’t,” he snapped back. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
Max held up the photograph. It was obvious he was trying not to react, but his initial wide-eyed expression gave him away.
“Where did you get that?”
“I have access to a lot of things, Dr. Barrett. Do you know when it’s dated?”
“I have no idea.”
“June 2011. That was the year she ran for office.”
“Then it had to be a campaign party. I told you, I contributed to her election.”
“You did? I actually don’t have that in my notes. When exactly did you tell me that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, but I know I told you.”
“Do you think you meant to tell me, but it slipped your mind?”
“Yeah, that might have been it. Geez, you know how that goes.” He stopped for a minute and bridged his hands over his eyes as though thinking.
“I have a few problems with that, Doc. First, you said you’d just met her; second, if this was a campaign party, where are all the other guests, and why are you both in bathing suits and standing so close together? We think you’re lying and the two of you were having an affair.” She handed him the photograph. “Take a good look.”
“No, Detective, we were not. What I actually think is that you have a dirty mind.”
She snorted. “You’re a clever man, Doc. I find it interesting the way you twist things around and push blame on the other person to get out of answering a question.” She arched her brow. “Now, answer the question. Why are you standing so close to the senator?”
“Christ, Detective, I don’t know. I don’t even remember anything about it. I’m just suggesting it was a party because I wouldn’t have been there otherwise. Obviously, there were other people onboard if someone took the photograph.”
“The senator could have a captain who sails her around who could have taken the photograph.”
“Here’s what I’d like to know,” Riley interjected. “If she was having a function, why would you have sailed out to meet her yacht?”
“What makes you think I sailed out to meet her yacht?”
“Your yacht is in the background.” Riley pointed. “See it?”
“Who the hell remembers that far back?” His hands flew in the air. “I probably missed the scheduled departure because of work and caught up to them.” Max and Riley looked at one another.
“I think it’s fascinating that you have an answer for everything.”
“That’s because I’m telling you the truth.”
“Were you invited to her victory party after she won?”
He ran a nervous hand over his face and stared into the distance. “I honestly don’t remember.”
“You can tell me you weren’t having an affair with this woman all you want, but I’m convinced you were, Doc.”
“No, dammit. She was a referral from Dr. Feinstein.”
“Doc,” Max said, “you must know that lying to me is not doing you any favors, because I’m going to find out sooner or later anyway. You know that, don’t you? You being in this photograph that’s dated in 2011 proves that you’re lying.”
He gave her a blank stare. “I guess I forgot.”
“Did you also know there are rumors circulating in your own hospital that you showed partiality to the senator’s daughter and gave her the transplant that was intended for someone else?”
“Look, I’m sure you know how well documented these transplants are—check the records. You’re the one who’s going to look foolish, Detective.” He stood. “Am I done here?”
“Not quite yet,” Riley said. “Do you have a military background?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“What did you do in the military?”
“The military paid for my medical education, and I served at their pleasure.”
“Is that where you and Jack Hughes first met?”
“No. We’ve known each other since high school.” He huffed out a breath. “I don’t see what any of these questions have to do with my wife’s death.”
“Well, you see, they do,” Riley shot back. “We believe the person who planted those bombs had military training.”
“Right,” he said dryly. “So, now you think I’m a suspect. Jack Hughes had military experience with explosives.” The detectives just stared at him without saying a word. “May I go now?”
“For today, sir,” Max said. “But I wouldn’t leave town if I were you.”
Barrett shot her a hostile look and walked out of the room.
“He’s lying,” Riley said.
“Yeah, something’s not right. Okay, I’m going to call Cory back in. Maybe we should investigate this together.”
Riley smiled. “You like him, don’t you?”
“I respect him for his work ethic, except when he lies his way into a witness’s house. But we also need to protect our reputation. What if his suspicions are right about Barrett having an affair with the senator? I don’t think the lieutenant would be pleased that I missed something so significant.”
“But you do like him, though, right?” Riley ribbed her.
“For chrissake, Riley, yes, I like him—a lot.” Riley didn’t comment, but his appreciative smile told her he was on board with the idea. “Regardless, the major thing here is I think he’s brought something important to the table with this case—things we can’t ignore.”
Max walked back to her desk and punched in Cory’s phone number. He answered on the second ring, and she started talking the minute he picked up without first saying hello. “I think the things you’ve presented are significant enough that we should seriously discuss them together. Why don’t you come over so we can talk?”
“Excellent, Detective. When would be a good time?”
“Can you make it in the next half hour?”
“Cory Rossini to see Detectives Turner and Riley,” he said, standing at the desk sergeant’s counter waiting for the stern female to tell Max he had arrived.
“Sit over there.” She gestured. “I’ll let you know when they’re ready.”
Cory was surprised that Max actually admitted he might have been right. He sighed and decided they’d definitely make a good team. All that was left to do was convince the stubborn woman that if she thought what they had was a slight infatuation, she’d better guess again—he was dead serious about getting to know her, hopefully even having a relationship with her.
Cory meandered over to the row of folding chairs and sat down, watching the sergeant’s mouth move as she spoke into the phone. “Okay, Mr. Rossini,” she called to him a few minutes later. “Officer Monteague will walk you to the interview room. You have a good day.”
It was a few minutes before he would see Max’s face. His heart had already increased its dance and was now doing a rumba. Despite her tough exterior, he prayed Max’s heart was racing as fast as his. He told himself she
was a cop and had to be very selective when showing her emotions. If he wanted her in his life, he would have to settle for the romance when they were alone together, because that’s what counted.
“Good afternoon, Cory,” Max said. “Thanks for coming over. Can you tell us what you’ve been doing since we last spoke?” He handed her a bouquet of red roses. Her surprised expression made him feel good. Riley smiled as he walked away.
“Thank . . . you,” Max said, and swallowed hard. “Why did you give me flowers?”
“Because we’ve been at odds with one another recently, and I wanted to let you know how much you’re starting to mean to me. Can we start over?”
The moment was lost when her peers began whistling and clapping hands. Max’s face turned a brilliant crimson.
“Oh God, Max, I’m sorry. I didn’t think . . .”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Give me one minute and we’ll talk.” She called out to a woman in the clerical pool. “Would you mind putting these flowers in water for me?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling at Cory. Max turned back to Cory.
“Okay, let’s talk,” she said, and together they walked to the interrogation room, where Riley was already waiting. Inside, Cory walked to the coffeepot and filled a cup. Adding sugar packets and milk, he stirred the liquid and set down on the table. “I met with a friend of mine named Greg Barton. He’s a member of the Bayside Country Club, and he informed me the senator and Barrett have been having an affair for at least two or more years that he knows of. The way they cheat is by sailing their yachts out to sea and anchoring.”
“How interesting. Is that just idle chitchat, or did he see this firsthand?” Max asked.
“He saw it firsthand. What he said was he and his family followed Barrett out to sea, not intentionally, but when they’d finished sailing around they returned and both yachts were anchored right next to one another.
“And yesterday was my appointment with Melanie Chambers, the transplant coordinator at Mount Sinai. As it turned out Mrs. Chambers was out of the office and a Kelly Sweetstone met with me instead. She was pretty adamant about it being impossible for there to be any wrongdoing when it comes to transplants. She gave me a detailed list of tests that are performed before the surgery and what could go wrong.” He arched a dark brow. “I even asked if it was possible to fix the records, but she denied the possibility.”
“Why wasn’t the actual transplant coordinator meeting with you?”
“I don’t know,” Cory said. “Her secretary said she had to leave. Again, no other explanation except ‘these things happen.’ But it seemed pretty interesting to me that she left in the middle of the day when she had an appointment. Maybe my imagination is getting carried away, but I just have an odd feeling about it.”
“Honestly, she could have left the office for a perfectly legitimate reason,” Max added.
“But I’m finding myself really wondering why two women in the same hospital leave suddenly during work hours,” Cory said. “I really don’t like the sound of that, Max.” His lips tightened. “Isn’t there a way you could find out?”
“We can check their names in the database and pull up relatives and associations. If you feel that strongly, we should definitely find out what we can. Again, it may be nothing.”
“I know, but I just have this feeling in my gut. I want to know more about it and see if it relates to our investigation,” he said and made a face when he tasted the bitter coffee.
Max laughed and continued. “It’s been sitting there for a while.” Cory pushed the cup aside. “We’ll be checking everything we can to see if these things are related.” Max brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. “But back to this Sweetstone woman at your meeting. Did she say the records couldn’t be falsified?”
“That’s what she said.” Cory’s mouth twisted into a smirk.
“That’s a bunch of bull,” Riley said. “I’m sure there are many ways those in the know could figure out how to bypass the rules without getting caught. At least, without getting caught right away.”
Cory continued. “Near the end of our conversation, she finally admitted anything was possible, but that it was highly unlikely and that several employees would be putting their jobs on the line to do it.”
“Maybe the doc is a cult leader like Charles Manson, and his followers march to his command,” Riley suggested.
“Yeah, right,” Max said. “You have to admit he’s pretty damn hot looking, though. I might even join his cult.” When Max noticed their expressions, she laughed, and her hand automatically shot up to a stop. “Just kidding, you guys. The truth is I can’t imagine anyone being dumb enough to risk their job for him or anyone else. Unless of course, it was for a promotion or more money. However, if that was the case, then that’s where our focus needs to be right now—on the financials and how and why this could have been pulled off.” Checking the time, Max made a face. “I’m tired. Let’s call it a night. We’ll be working plenty in the coming days.”
“Tonight, though,” Riley said, “I’m glad we’re not working overtime. It’s my son’s ninth birthday. I missed his birthday party last year, and he hasn’t let me live it down since. I don’t want the poor kid developing a complex.”
“Well then, scoot,” Max said, shooing him away with her hands. “And wish your son a happy birthday from me.”
“Thanks for helping us out here,” Riley said and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed out the door. “Have a good evening.”
“Thanks, you enjoy the birthday party,” Cory said to Riley. After the door closed, Cory turned to Max. “So what do you say? Will you have dinner with me so we can talk about what we’re going to do?”
“Sure,” she said, forcing down her excitement at the prospect of being with him again. “Let me tell the lieutenant what’s going on. I could meet you at the restaurant. Where did you want to go?” he asked.
“How about Café Monarch?”
“Okay. See you there in a hour or so.”
Cory watched the sway of her hips as she walked away, realizing just how much he’d missed her. He’d tell her tonight he was sorry for his outburst. Gathering up his files, he stuffed them into his briefcase and left the building.
An hour later, Cory spotted Max snaking her way between the tables to where he sat chewing on bread. Just the sight of her gave him goose bumps, something he’d never felt before with any other woman.
“I was afraid you weren’t going to show,” he said, standing to greet her.
She gave him a quizzical glance. “Why would I not show?”
Cory shrugged as he pulled the chair out for her and inhaled the flowery scent of her hair when she sat down. “A million reasons, I suppose.” Max placed the cloth napkin on her lap, just as the waiter arrived and poured her a glass of red wine.
“I took the liberty of ordering you a glass of Pinot Noir. I was pretty sure that’s what you wanted the last time we got together, even though you tried the Sangiovese.”
“What a memory.” She picked up the glass and smelled the bouquet and moaned. “Mmm, the nose on this wine smells like a candied apple.” Drawing in a small sip, she swished it around in her mouth, swallowed, and grinned. “Total perfection,” she said to the server who stood waiting. “Thank you.” She held up her glass to Cory and toasted him. “To this case. May we enjoy lots more Pinot Noir. By the way, have you ever tasted Sea Smoke? That wine is so damn good, forget about pouring a glass—just give me a straw.” The busboy replenished the bread.
“No, I haven’t tasted it, but your enthusiasm makes it sound appealing. Listen, I’m starved. Do you mind if we order first and talk while we’re eating?”
“Not at all. It’s been another one of those days where I almost skipped lunch and I would have completely if Riley hadn’t gone outside and bought me a hot dog.” Max suddenly stopped and laughed.
“You mean like the hot dog I wanted to buy you at Yankee Stadium?”
No
dding in agreement, she said, “Exactly.”
“What do you feel like eating?” he asked when the waiter approached.
“I’m not sure. What are you having?”
“Steak.”
“Mm, that sounds good. Then I’ll have what he’s having.”
“How would you like that cooked?”
“Medium.” After the waiter left she continued. “This wine is yummy.”
“Good. Listen, Max, how about we call a truce?” he asked.
“A truce for what? The case, us, or . . . ?”
“How about a truce about everything?” His smile suddenly relaxed.
They both started talking at once. Cory backed off. “I’m sorry, you go first.”
“Can we start with discussing our conversation about you talking to Barrett’s friends? It’s been bothering me that you didn’t give me a chance to explain my frustration and why I was upset.”
“Please do. I’d like to clear the air.”
“When I called you that day, I’d just finished listening to a number of complaints about you, and before those calls, I was already feeling the pressure of not being able to close this case as quickly as I had hoped. It had nothing to do with your continued investigation. You can investigate as much as you want, but you used the NYPD to get your foot in the door, stretching the truth to fit your needs without considering mine or the department’s, and you know better.”
Cory nodded. She was right. He did know better. Releasing an embarrassed sigh, he inched his opened palm across the table, hoping she’d accept his invitation. She slid her hand inside his, and he released a contented smile. “I am sorry about that,” Cory added. “I could give you a million reasons why I let my emotions cloud my judgment, but they’d only be excuses . . .” He paused momentarily, then continued, “I am sincerely sorry for using the NYPD as a means of getting them to talk to me.”
“You made me look foolish.”
“I swear, that wasn’t my intent at all.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“Okay, that’s fine. At least I know you won’t do it again.”
“No, I won’t.” His eyes scanned her face, stopping to look directly into her eyes. “I’ve really missed seeing you, and I’m going to do my hardest not to cross that line ever again, because I do want to get to know you, but understand that I’m not perfect. I’m probably going to make some mistakes, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop getting closer to you.”
Blind Retribution Page 18
