sat in leather chairs across the desk from Dr. Grissom, Dodson’s dislike of Dr. Grissom intensified. The cardiologist’s appearance only served to fuel Dodson’s—and he knew Brantley felt the same way—immediate abhorrence. The doctor’s dark hair was slicked back. He wore black Gucci shoes, Armani slacks, a silk shirt, and gold-plated cuff links that protruded from under his starched white lab coat. He was a handsome man in his midthirties who clearly had a sizable income, most likely a large bank account, and he knew it.
Brantley and Dodson had previously decided to double-team Dr. Grissom. Dodson took the lead as bad cop and cut right to the chase. “We’re not here about parking tickets, Dr. Grissom. What can you tell us about a young lady named Jessica Caldwell?”
“What about her?” A smirk emerged, revealing the doctor’s bright teeth.
Dodson wanted to slap the smirk off the doctor’s face.
Brantley cleared his throat and took over the questioning. “Do you know her?”
“Yeah, I know her. What’s this about, anyway? Is she saying I did something to her? Because if she is, she’s lying.”
Dodson glanced at Brantley, whom he knew was trying to measure Dr. Grissom’s demeanor.
“Did you know she was dead, Dr. Grissom?” Brantley continued.
“Dead?” The doctor’s eyes grew wide. “No, I didn’t know that. Of course not.” He straightened up in his chair and the smirk disappeared. “But what’s that got to do with me?”
“How did you get that cut on your face, Dr. Grissom?” Brantley asked.
Dr. Grissom touched a small bandage on his left cheek. “I cut myself shaving this morning.”
Dodson glanced at the photographs in Dr. Grissom’s office. None of them contained any likenesses of Jessica Caldwell. But another attractive young woman appeared in several of the photos, including one of her in a wedding dress. He also noticed the gold wedding band on Dr. Grissom’s left hand.
“Were you seeing Ms. Caldwell socially, Dr. Grissom?” Dodson resumed the lead in the questioning. What he really wanted to do was drag the arrogant doctor down to the station for questioning on their turf, but he and Brantley didn’t have enough evidence yet. Maybe later, Dodson hoped.
Dr. Grissom’s vision shifted from Brantley to Dodson and he shrugged. “I’ve been to dinner with her a couple of times. That’s all.”
“Does your wife know about that?” Dodson continued.
“Now, just a minute!” Dr. Grissom shouted. The veins in his temples bulged, and his face grew red. “It’s no concern of yours what my wife knows, or what she doesn’t know.” He gritted his teeth. “I think it’s time the two of you left.”
“Did you see Ms. Caldwell last night, Dr. Grissom?” Brantley pressed.
“I’m not answering any more questions, and I told you to leave. Don’t make me call security.”
“Don’t threaten us, Dr. Grissom,” Brantley responded tersely. He straightened his back and glared across the desk at Dr. Grissom. “You know that security’s not going to do anything to us. Sergeant Dodson and I are going to leave, but I’m sure we’ll be back. And when we do come back, we’re not going to be as nice as we were this time.”
Brantley and Dodson stood and walked toward the office door. Just as they were leaving the room, Dodson turned and fired one last question. “Dr. Grissom, can you tell us where you were last night?”
“Get out!” the doctor shouted from across the room.
The Vidalia restaurant, Washington DC
“How are things on the Senate floor?” Porter McIntosh asked. He and Cooper Harrington sat at a corner table in the swanky Vidalia restaurant on M Street NW, approximately five blocks northwest of the White House. Porter had vetted Judge Shelton’s name with several friendly senators over the last couple of days. The time had come to approach Senator Proctor’s office about the plan.
“Things are going great.” Cooper scanned the lunch offerings,
Brantley and Dodson had previously decided to double-team Dr. Grissom. Dodson took the lead as bad cop and cut right to the chase. “We’re not here about parking tickets, Dr. Grissom. What can you tell us about a young lady named Jessica Caldwell?”
“What about her?” A smirk emerged, revealing the doctor’s bright teeth.
Dodson wanted to slap the smirk off the doctor’s face.
Brantley cleared his throat and took over the questioning. “Do you know her?”
“Yeah, I know her. What’s this about, anyway? Is she saying I did something to her? Because if she is, she’s lying.”
Dodson glanced at Brantley, whom he knew was trying to measure Dr. Grissom’s demeanor.
“Did you know she was dead, Dr. Grissom?” Brantley continued.
“Dead?” The doctor’s eyes grew wide. “No, I didn’t know that. Of course not.” He straightened up in his chair and the smirk disappeared. “But what’s that got to do with me?”
“How did you get that cut on your face, Dr. Grissom?” Brantley asked.
Dr. Grissom touched a small bandage on his left cheek. “I cut myself shaving this morning.”
Dodson glanced at the photographs in Dr. Grissom’s office. None of them contained any likenesses of Jessica Caldwell. But another attractive young woman appeared in several of the photos, including one of her in a wedding dress. He also noticed the gold wedding band on Dr. Grissom’s left hand.
“Were you seeing Ms. Caldwell socially, Dr. Grissom?” Dodson resumed the lead in the questioning. What he really wanted to do was drag the arrogant doctor down to the station for questioning on their turf, but he and Brantley didn’t have enough evidence yet. Maybe later, Dodson hoped.
Dr. Grissom’s vision shifted from Brantley to Dodson and he shrugged. “I’ve been to dinner with her a couple of times. That’s all.”
“Does your wife know about that?” Dodson continued.
“Now, just a minute!” Dr. Grissom shouted. The veins in his temples bulged, and his face grew red. “It’s no concern of yours what my wife knows, or what she doesn’t know.” He gritted his teeth. “I think it’s time the two of you left.”
“Did you see Ms. Caldwell last night, Dr. Grissom?” Brantley pressed.
“I’m not answering any more questions, and I told you to leave. Don’t make me call security.”
“Don’t threaten us, Dr. Grissom,” Brantley responded tersely. He straightened his back and glared across the desk at Dr. Grissom. “You know that security’s not going to do anything to us. Sergeant Dodson and I are going to leave, but I’m sure we’ll be back. And when we do come back, we’re not going to be as nice as we were this time.”
Brantley and Dodson stood and walked toward the office door. Just as they were leaving the room, Dodson turned and fired one last question. “Dr. Grissom, can you tell us where you were last night?”
“Get out!” the doctor shouted from across the room.
The Vidalia restaurant, Washington DC
“How are things on the Senate floor?” Porter McIntosh asked. He and Cooper Harrington sat at a corner table in the swanky Vidalia restaurant on M Street NW, approximately five blocks northwest of the White House. Porter had vetted Judge Shelton’s name with several friendly senators over the last couple of days. The time had come to approach Senator Proctor’s office about the plan.
“Things are going great.” Cooper scanned the lunch offerings,
Similar Books
