Read Justice Served: A Barkley and Parker Thriller for Free Online Page A

judge’s courtroom it means no one can
be ruled out as a suspect, including the honorable judge
herself.”
    Deep down Ray knew she was right—at least
where it concerned keeping an open mind about suspects. But that
wasn’t to say they had to go overboard with their suspicions.
Especially when they had absolutely nothing at this point to even
be sure the killer was a female, much less a very attractive
judge.
    As for his serious interest in Carole
Cranston, that was up for debate. He couldn’t dismiss being
enamored by her. What sane, straight guy wouldn’t be, given her
looks, presence, and position? But that didn’t necessarily mean he
wanted to get into her pants, or under her designer skirt. Did
it?
    “You’re going down the wrong road, Nina, if
you think Judge Cranston is our vigilante,” Ray said flatly. “There
are too many nuts out there capable of doing this to investigate
before we start pointing fingers at people whose job it is to
uphold the laws of this state. Not break them down.”
    Nina averted his stare. “You’re right,” she
relented. “Maybe I am a hound dog sniffing up the wrong tree.
Wouldn’t be the first time. Guess I can be overzealous sometimes in
an investigation where a vicious serial killer is cutting down men
left and right.”
    Ray recognized it worked both ways. He made a
teasing face. “How about overzealous all the time,
Parker!”
    She poked him hard in the side, causing Ray
to wince. “Don’t press your luck, Barkley. It can run out at any
time.”
    He chuckled, rubbing his suddenly sore side.
“I think it already has. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
    Ray couldn’t help but think about Carole
Cranston, the woman behind the judge. He imagined it wouldn’t take
much to get to like her in a big way, if given the chance.
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    The cab pulled away from the courthouse and
cruised down the boulevard towards its new destination. Carole sat
in back, pondering her day. Fresh on her mind was the encounter
with the two homicide detectives. Part of her was unnerved by the
gist of their investigation. The other part was somewhat piqued.
Mostly by Detective Barkley. She sensed that he also felt drawn to
her. She wondered if they would have the opportunity to meet again
under more favorable circumstances.
    I think I’d like that.
    The cab pulled up to the Jamaican restaurant
on Broadway. She had suggested the place for her meeting with
Vivian Wolfe. Surprisingly, Stuart’s wife had enthusiastically
agreed to it. Whereas Carole had remained dubious about becoming
involved in her ex-lover’s marital troubles. What right did she
have to tell Vivian, or any woman for that matter, she should bring
a child into this world if her desire was to terminate her
pregnancy?
    What if things failed to work out between
Vivian and Stuart? Carole pondered. Would Stuart be able to
properly care for his child, if called upon to do so? She could
well imagine the child becoming lost in the shuffle. Abandoned.
Neglected. Abused. Dysfunctional. Like so many others who were in
situations beyond their control.
    By the time the cab zoomed off, Carole had
decided to play it by ear and whatever happened, happened. Either
way, she considered this the very last marker Stuart could call in.
From here on, she considered them even in their debts and left to
fend for themselves in their personal trials and tribulations.
    * * *
    Vivian was already seated at the table when
the maitre d’ led Carole to it. Immediately she thought that Vivian
Wolfe was younger than she had imagined, perhaps in her mid
twenties. This made Carole feel positively ancient at thirty-five.
Vivian rose, and was nearly Carole’s height, and every bit as
shapely. She wore a light brown cap sleeve dress and sandals.
    Vivian Wolfe had a curly sandy colored shag
and brilliant café au lait eyes, matching her smooth complexion.
High cheekbones rivaled Carole’s and pouty lips were opened just
slightly in a sensual way.