All I've Ever Wanted - Adrianne Byrd [8]
His cell phone rang.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, partner. Any new news?” Dossman’s inquisitive voice filtered through the line.
“Not yet. What about you? How are things coming?”
“I’m waiting for a judge to sign a warrant to let us search Underwood’s home for his date books, calendars and memorandums. There’s no one there who can give us a consent to search. That’s why I called. What do you say you meet me at Underwood’s residence around five o’clock? I should have this taken care of by then.”
Max jotted the address down in his notebook and agreed to meet Dossman. He hung up just as Detective Washington returned, shaking her head.
“Well, there’s definitely no shortage of footprints out here. Being that this is supposedly a popular place with the local kids, we could spend a lot of time following tracks and still end up following the wrong trail.”
Max removed his shades and sighed with frustration. “The evidence still needs to be cataloged, too. That might lead us to the right trail. By the way, how many casings did we find?”
“Twenty-five, so far.”
“It looks like you were right. They were chasing something.”
“Or someone.”
Max remained silent for a moment, then said, “Maybe someone stumbled on the scene.”
“A teenager,” Washington suggested.
“That would be my first guess. And since we haven’t found a second body, I’m willing to bet that we’ve got ourselves a witness out there somewhere.”
Chapter 5
Max parked his car behind Dossman’s Buick and took a quick glance at his watch. Five-fifteen. He wasn’t too late. He climbed out of his car and stared up at Underwood’s impressive three-story home. “I knew I should have gone to law school,” he mumbled sarcastically under his breath.
Slowly, he pivoted on his heel and took in the long spiraling driveway, the lush landscape and the idyllic location. “Nice.”
When he heard the front door open, he turned and locked gazes with his partner. “Can you believe this place?”
“Wait until you see the inside,” Dossman said.
Max shook his head and followed his partner inside. His brows rose with suspicion at the home’s picturesque décor. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“Wish I was.”
“Exactly how much does an A.D.A. make?”
“You tell me and then we’ll both know.” Dossman shrugged. “This has to be the cleanest place I’ve ever been in. I’m almost afraid to touch anything.”
“Was anyone here when you arrived?”
“Yeah, the ex-wife.”
“Judge Hickman is here?” Max asked, surprised.
“Believe it or not, she lives here.”
“Where is she now?”
Dossman tilted his head toward the ceiling. “She’s upstairs, crying her eyes out.”
He didn’t believe it. “I was under the impression that she hated Marion’s guts.”
“Well, she did marry the man three times. He must have been doing something right.”
“They’d also divorced three times.”
“According to Judge Hickman, they’d reconciled their differences and were engaged to be married again next month.”
Max lifted his brows in incredulity.
Dossman shrugged. “What can I say? If at first you don’t succeed…”
Just then their attention was drawn to the sound of footsteps overhead. Seconds later, Judge Sandra Hickman descended the staircase.
Sandra, a handsome, statuesque woman with kind eyes, met the men’s gazes and lifted her chin. A veteran of her courtroom, Max had difficulty believing that the subdued woman standing before him was the same tyrannical judge who would hold a person in contempt for having looked at her the wrong way.
“Good evening, Detective Collier.” She smiled politely, and wiped at her tear-reddened eyes.
He nodded in acknowledgment. “Judge.”
“Can I get you gentlemen anything from the kitchen?”
“No, ma’am,” the men answered in unison.
Her smile wavered briefly. She turned, and stopped. “Is there anything I can do to help you with your investigation?”
Max didn’t know what to make of this gentler Judge Hickman. He’d fully expected to have to fight her for the smallest piece of information.
He decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “If you have a few minutes, I would like