out of the garage. She was startled to see Jack there.
“Those things will kill you,” Jack said, nodding at her cigarette.
“So will a head-on collision at high speeds, but I still drive fast.”
He gave her a grudging smile, and she offered him one back.
“I don’t smoke,” Jack said, and started back inside.
“Maybe we got off to a rocky start, Detective Murphy,” Brooke said before he could get away.
Hearing the signs of a truce, he carefully chose his words. Nothing was ever as simple as it looked, nor as innocent. The prosecutor had called her in for one reason, and that was to get Trent off the hook politically. Therefore, her interest in the case was tainted. She might be a great detective. But he didn’t trust her.
“I promised my chief I would cooperate. You’re welcome to look through my case files, but I don’t have the time to catch you up to speed without slowing down the progress of the investigation.”
“What progress?” she said testily. “You don’t have a motive. You don’t have a suspect. In fact, you don’t have any evidence except a bunch of bodies in the morgue’s freezer.”
Jack didn’t have to put up with sidelines calls. He was turning his back when Brooke put a hand on his arm. “We should work together.”
He pointedly looked at her hand until she removed it.
“We are working together,” he said. “And when I catch these guys, you can have all the credit, Brooke.”
She feigned a disinterested look, but he could tell his remark hit a nerve. The last thing he needed was another agency meddling in the case. She might be pissed off, but that was okay as long as she kept her distance.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Seeing yet another press conference being held at police headquarters, Jack climbed the back stairs that led to the squad room. When he opened his office door he found Moira perched on the edge of his desk. Smiling, she held out a CD-ROM.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“I talked to Marcie this morning. She said the flash drive was stolen.”
Jack raised an eyebrow as he took the silver disc.
“That’s a backup of the flash drive,” Moira explained. “I copied it to my laptop before you came over last night. And before you give me a lecture, you already know I’m not going to stay out of this. I can’t. It’s my job.”
Jack didn’t know whether to be angry or hug her. “Come with me,” he said, and led her down to the basement, carefully avoiding any news people. After several twists and turns Jack led her into an office where a sign on the outside of the door said VICE UNIT.
Inside, a woman a few inches shorter but not much older than Moira set behind a desk covered with computer equipment and two laptops. Her flawless skin was the color of yellow coal, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and even darker eyes that bordered on black.
Jack made the introductions. “Moira, meet Angelina Garcia. Angelina, this is deputy prosecutor Moira Connelly.”
Garcia smiled and reached across the desk. “I was wondering when I’d get to meet you.”
Moira took her hand and said, “Me, too. Jack says you are the genius behind their work.”
Garcia’s dark eyes grew wide at the compliment. “Funny, he never tells me that.”
Jack handed Garcia the disc. “This is a copy of the flash drive I told you about. Moira found the thumb drive in Nina Parsons’s office, and this is the only copy. It doesn’t exist. Understood?” After what had happened with Liddell last night, he didn’t want to take any chances, and he didn’t want to get Moira into worse trouble for not turning the copy over to Eric first.
“Sure thing, boss. I’ll get right on it,” Garcia said. She lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, “Is Detective Jansen still on this?”
Good question. Jack hadn’t seen or talked to Jansen since Tuesday, when Liddell had forced him to give them the name of the dancer, Samantha Steele.
“I’ll find out, but my guess would be no, he’s not working with us anymore,” Jack said.
Garcia inserted the disc and started scanning files. “If you’ve got a minute, I think I can give you something. This doesn’t look too difficult.”
Jack and Moira traded a look. They had both been stumped last night.
He asked Moira, “Did you get in trouble for taking the flash drive home?”
Moira’s face flushed at the memory of the dressing down she had received from Eric Manson in front of