Justice for All Read Free Page A

Catherine’s hand. “You have it.”
    “Good enough. I’ll leave prescriptions for you at the nurses’ station. You can pick them up on your way out. I want to see you next week in clinic.” Ali started toward the door, then looked over her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. Keep the rest of your people that way too.”
    “I plan to,” Rebecca said.

    *

    Watts was slouched against the wall next to the door when Rebecca and Catherine walked out.
    “You really should go downstairs in a wheelchair,” Catherine murmured.
    Watts grinned and Rebecca shot him a look. “By the time someone finds one, I could be relaxing in the car. You did park out front in the fire lane, didn’t you, Watts?”
    “Right at the curb, Loo.”
    “Good enough. Let’s go.”
    Catherine sighed. “I can’t fight you both.” Then she stepped closer to the big detective. “I’m counting on you to look after her, William.”
    The smirk disappeared from Watts’s face and he straightened, warmth replacing the usual sarcastic gleam in his eyes. “Yes ma’am. I’ll do that.”
    “Move it, Watts,” Rebecca grumbled. The last thing she needed was babysitting. She kissed Catherine’s cheek. “I’ll see you later. Don’t worry.”
    Catherine brushed her fingertips over Rebecca’s uninjured cheek. “Get some rest.”
    “I won’t do anything strenuous. Promise.”
    The three rode down in the elevator together and then parted in front of the hospital as Catherine hurried off to the medical arts building down the block. Rebecca eased into the front seat of the department-issue Crown Vic and was instantly at home. The interior smelled of smoke from Watts’s cigarettes, grease from the McDonald’s containers on the floor in the backseat, and the unmistakable scent of dozens of bodies. For the first time in days she felt like herself.
    Watts settled his belly behind the wheel and pulled out into traffic. “Your place or the doc’s?”
    “Neither. Let’s head to the office.”
    “I don’t want to get my balls in a vise here, Loo. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
    “No one said I couldn’t sit in a chair and talk.” Rebecca leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Assemble the troops.”
    “I ought to be wearing a cup,” Watts muttered. “My balls are aching already.”
    “Shut up, Watts.” Rebecca smiled to herself when she heard his happy chuckle.

    *

    JT Sloan took the call at just after 2:00 p.m. Watts’s message to meet at the unofficial headquarters of the HPCU in her private office building was a welcome reprieve to a life prison sentence. She’d just spent the last five hours working with two detectives who, along with her, made up the fledgling Electronic Surveillance Unit at the Philadelphia Police Department. In a moment of pure insanity, she’d signed on as the civilian consultant to help set up the unit and train the newly assigned detectives whose knowledge of cybersleuthing began with being able to turn on a computer and ended with signing on to the Internet for their e-mail. Fortunately, they made up for their lack of knowledge with eagerness. Still, there was a limit to how long she could rein in her temper, not one of her talents.
    “Gotta run, fellas,” she said, clipping her phone back to her belt. “Go ahead and start the downloads from the archives.”
    Lloyd Elliott, a sandy-haired, boyish-looking detective who was the reverse of Sloan’s black haired, blue-eyed good looks, straightened up in his chair in alarm. “Without you? What if—”
    Sloan waved a hand and headed for the door. “There’s nothing you can do I can’t fix. Have fun.”
    Hearing their grumbles as she made her escape, she laughed. There was a lot to be said for being her own boss. On her way to her Porsche, she made another call.
    “Michael Lassiter’s office,” a smooth, sophisticated voice answered.
    “It’s Sloan. Is she around?”
    “Of course, Ms. Sloan. I’ll get her.”
    “Just Sloan,”