Page 74 of Protect My Heart

Warden Richard Finden and his lawyer had their heads together. Jim’s jaw ticked as he watched them strategize. He wanted to reach out and throttle the dirtbag but calmly folded his hands on the table. The guy had screamed for his lawyer before the paramedics bandaged his leg.

The once respected man, who headed one of the state’s largest prisons, now sat with his wrists banded in handcuffs. He shifted in the metal chair.

Still sore. Jim fought to keep the smile from his lips. Tig got him good.

CJ started the recording and listed the case, date, and attendees of the interview.

Jim leaned in. Pain shot down his leg, but he schooled his expression. “Tell us about this journal. It must be pretty damn important to you.”

Finden’s counsel whispered in his ear before setting the pen down on his notepad. “My client would like to cut a deal.”

CJ arched a brow. “And why do you think we would be interested in a deal? We have him on camera with a gun in his hand, threatening Dr. Garcia.”

“Not to mention a list the length of my arm of other infractions, including dognapping, stalking, and kidnapping.” Jim added. No way he wanted this guy to get a second reduced from his time.

Finden sneered.

“As you know, my client is the warden at a maximum-security prison. And as such, he is privy to information that would be beneficial to the police.”

“Why should we care about prisoners that are already in lockup?” CJ asked.

“Not all the crimes Warden Finden has knowledge of have been prosecuted.” The left side of the attorney’s mouth hitched up.

Smug bastard. Jim might not have a fancy degree but he knew a thing or two about the law.

“Well, I do believe that would be withholding information.” Jim rubbed his chin and addressed CJ. “Wouldn’t that fall under obstruction of justice?”

CJ nodded. “Yes, Detective Swenson. You are correct. It can add up to five more years to his sentence?”

Ignoring Finden and his attorney, Jim continued chatting with his partner. “Not that an ex-warden would last past his first year.”

“If he did, it would be hell.” CJ shuddered. “You know what they do to cops in prison. Imagine what would happen to a warden.”

Jim turned his attention back to the now ashen Finden. They all knew a warden or cop would be in solitary for their own safety, but they also knew guards could be bribed. “I bet old Rich here knows exactly what the inmates would have in store for his welcome party.”

The legal counsel cleared his throat.

“Gentlemen, I believe this interview is over.” He stood and shoved his pen and papers into his briefcase. “I’ll take my offer up with the DA. My client’s bail hearing is Friday morning. Until then, good day.”

The attorney rapped on the door. An officer opened it and ushered them out.

Jim couldn’t hold his tongue a second longer. “That guy’s an overpriced shark in a custom-tailored suit. If he were any oilier we’d need to call the custodian to clean his chair.”

“He’s got a rep. His clients do minimum time.” CJ dropped the file on his desk. His hands ran through his short cropped hair. “I really want to pin this guy to the wall.”

“What I don’t get is why now? It’s been what? Twenty-five years since their military days.” Jim sat. A wince squeezed out. He pulled the pill bottle from his pocket and popped a stronger pain killer into his mouth. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to settle his thoughts then he pulled up his computer. “There wasn’t so much as a leaflet of paper in O’Roarke’s things. Just a picture Doc drew for him years ago. The only thing we found was the key in the knife, but we don’t have a clue what it’s to. The man didn’t have a bank box in town and it doesn’t match any of the lockers I know of around town.”

Jim propped his elbows on his desk and clamped his hands together. Resting his chin on them, he thought back through the items they found. “When we were going through O’Roarke’s effects, we found old boxing gloves. Doc couldn’t remember her father sparing. I did a quick search online of the local gyms.”

“Any hits?” CJ asked.

“Nothing that old. I got a request in for a list of the local business licenses. Until that comes through, I got nothing. Hell, when it comes I could still have nothing.” He fisted his hands in his hair.

It had been a while since Jim boxed. It might be a good way to work off some of his frustration. If he couldn’t pummel the warden maybe a good sweaty round in the ring would help. He punched the air. His hip throbbed from the movement. Boxing would need to wait a while.

“So, we don’t have a clue what this mystery key opens or where to find the journal that’s worth killing for.”

“Hell, we don’t even know what’s in it.” Jim’s head dropped to his hands. “Some days I hate this job.”