J is for Judgement

attraction was about. I ate my lunch, then gathered up my crumpled papers and my empty Pepsi can, depositing the paper bag in the nearest waste container. As if on cue, I saw Jonah moving toward me across the saturated courthouse lawn. He looked surprisingly good for a man who probably wasn't very happy: tall and trim, with a wash of silver showing in his dark hair just above his ears. He hadn't seen me yet. He walked with his head down, a brown bag visible in one hand. Though I was tempted to flee, I found myself nearly rooted in place, wondering how long it would take for him to realize I was standing there. He lifted his face and looked at me without a hint of recognition. I waited, motionless, feeling oddly ill at ease. When he was ten feet away, he stopped in his tracks. I could see the tiny flecks of wet glass plastered to his shoes. "I don't believe it. How are you?"
    I said, "Fine. How are you?"
    His smile seemed pained and slightly sheepish. "I guess we just did this couple days ago on the phone."
    "We're allowed," I said mildly. "What are you doing here?"
    He looked down at the brown paper bag in his hand as if perplexed. "I'm supposed to meet Camilla for lunch."
    "Oh, that's right. She works here. Well, that's convenient for you both with the station half a block away. You can give each other rides to work." Jonah knew me well enough to ignore my sarcasm, which in this case was automatic and didn't mean that much.
    "You never met Camilla, did you? Why don't you hang around for a bit? She'll be here any minute, as soon as court's recessed."
    "Thanks, but I have something to take care of," I said. "Anyway, I can't believe she'd be that interested. Maybe some other time." Jesus, Jonah, get a clue, I thought. No wonder Camilla was always mad at him. What wife wants to meet the woman her husband was boffing during past marital separations?
    "Anyway, it's nice to see you. You're looking good," he said as he moved away.
    "Jonah? I. do have a question. Maybe this is something you can help me with."
    He paused. "Fire away."
    "You know much about Lieutenant Brown?"
    He seemed puzzled by the subject. "Sure, I know him some. What in particular?"
    "Remember I told you CF hired me to check out this Wendell Jaffe sighting down in Mexico?"
    "Yeah."
    "Harris Brown was down there. In the room next door to Jaffe's."
    Jonah's face went blank. "Are you sure?"
    "Trust me, Jonah. This is not something I could be mistaken about. It was him. I was this close." I held my hand to my face, implying nose to nose. I repressed the fact that I'd kissed him right in the chops. That was still enough to make me shiver some in retrospect.
    "Well, I suppose he could be investigating on his own time," he said. "I guess there's nothing wrong with that. It's been a lot of years, but he always had a reputation as a bird dog."
    "In other words, he's persistent," I said.
    "Oh, shit, yes. he spots a perp in the distance, he'll hold a point till he drops."
    "If he's retired, can he still use the NCIC computer?"
    "Technically, probably not, but I'm sure he still has friends in the department who'd help him out if he asked. Why?"
    "I don't see how he could find Wendell without access to the system."
    Jonah shrugged, unimpressed. "That's not information we have or we'd have pulled him in. If the guy's still alive, we'd have a lot of questions for him."
    "He had to get his information somewhere," I said.
    "Come on. Brown's been a detective thirty-five, forty years. He knows how to get information. The guy's got his sources. Maybe somebody tipped him off."
    "But what's it to him? Why not pass the information on to someone in the department?"
    He studied me, and I could see his mental gears engage. "Off-hand, I can't tell you. Personally, I think you're making too much of this, but I can check it out."
    "Discreetly," I cautioned. "Absolutely," he said.
    I began to walk backward at a slow pace. I finally turned and moved on. I didn't want to be caught up in Jonah's orbit again. I've never really understood the chemistry between the two of us. While the relationship seemed to be dead now, I wasn't sure what had triggered the spark in the beginning. For all I knew, mere proximity might set the whole thing off again. The man wasn't good for me, and I wanted him at a distance. When I looked back, I saw that he was staring after me.
    By two-fifteen my office phone rang. "Kinsey? This is Jonah."
    "That was quick," I said. "That's because there isn't much to