“And I’m not going to stand by and let it happen again. I can’t lose you, Hez. I just can’t. There’s very little danger to this. It will take some time anyway, and I’ll confer with you every step of the way.”
A long silence ensued before he gave a heavy sigh. “Fine. Got a pen?”
She dug a pen and notepad out of her purse. “I’m ready.” She jotted down the name Bruno Rubinelli as well as the email and phone number he gave her. “Sounds like a mob enforcer.”
Hez chuckled. “Bruno is more dangerous than any enforcer, so tread carefully. If you make him mad, you’ll find your Social Security number up on a billboard in Times Square or somewhere else equally public.”
She dropped her pad and pen back into her purse. “I’d better get out of here. Cody is staring at Boo Radley like he’s daring him to come closer. I have to referee.” She ended the call in time to pick up Cody and run with him in her arms and Marley on her heels before the gator took up the dog’s challenge.
***
Hez wanted to look as professional as possible for his meeting with Hope, and he couldn’t do that wearing a hospital gown and a five-day beard. He didn’t bother trying to make his hair presentable—it would be months before that was possible. His cousin Blake had suggested that he shave the other side of his head and wear a Mohawk for the rest of the semester.
In addition to unhelpful hairstyle advice, Blake had also provided clothing from Hez’s condo and some toiletries, soHez looked and felt basically presentable. He still tired quickly and his head throbbed if he moved suddenly, but he felt almost normal. Most important, his brain fog seemed to be lifting. He needed to be as sharp as possible by the time Hope walked through his door.
Hope wasn’t just an old friend visiting him in the hospital. She was the prosecutor he had persuaded to get the warrant that led to that embarrassing roadblock a week ago. Coming up empty in a significant operation like that must have been humiliating for her, and it would make perfect sense for her to blame him. He would if he were in her place. So how did he convince her to give him a second chance? Because if he couldn’t do that, the Justice Chamber investigation wouldn’t get very far.
A crisp rap on his door announced Hope’s arrival. “Come in,” he called.
She opened the door and entered. She wore a conservative navy suit, and her hair was pulled back. “Good to see you, Hez. How are you feeling?”
“As good as can be expected under the circumstances. Better actually.” He glanced over her attire. “Please tell me you just came from the initial appearance for the guys who put me in the hospital.”
She shook her head. “I wish.” She perched on the chair beside his bed. “I did just come from court though, and the hearing would have interested you. It was a scheduling conference for Deke Willard’s murder case.”
Hez arched an eyebrow. “Murder? Of Beckett Harrison?”
She nodded. “We got the indictment last week, thanks to a jailhouse snitch, who is now in protective custody, of course.He wore a wire and got Deke to confess to calling the hit on Harrison and making it look like a suicide. The guy couldn’t help bragging.”
“They never can.” Hez held out his fist. “Congratulations!”
She smiled and bumped her fist against his. “Thanks. Deke’s lawyer is already sniffing around for a plea bargain.”
“So your boss will get his murder conviction after all—though probably not the way he wanted it.”
She sighed. “A win is a win, but I’m sure he would have preferred something splashier.”
Hez kept his tone casual. “Maybe we can give it to him.”
Her brows went up. “Oh? How can we do that?”
“By bringing down that smuggling ring. We’ve got a couple of promising new angles, but we’ll need your help.”
She groaned. “That’s what you said last time. It didn’t turn out well.”
“I know, but this time will be different. Really.” That sounded pathetic, so he hurried on. “We’re approaching the smuggling pipeline from a couple of different angles.” He told her about Savannah’s idea and Ed’s renewed contact with his source. “I don’t think we’ll need another roadblock or anything like that.”
She drummed her fingers on the chair’s padded vinyl armrest. “Are you going to need another warrant?”
“Um, maybe.”
She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I won’t be able to get one based on the same anonymous source who was wrong last time.”
“I’m not sure he was wrong. We know there’s a mole in the PHPD. What if that’s not the only one?”
She gave a quick nod, like she’d already considered thepossibility. “Could be, but it won’t help me get a warrant. I’ll need enough supporting evidence to show probable cause, and the bar will be higher this time because of what happened last week.”
“I understand. What will you need?”