Brown, Sandra-Friction

award me custody of my daughter. One has nothing to do with the other.”
Neal punched the record button on the video camera. “I wouldn’t count on that if I were you.”
Crawford let the remark pass without comment. He wasn’t going to be spurred into talking about
his custody petition with Neal Lester.
Nugent relaunched the interrogation. “You told us earlier that when Rodriguez busted in—”
“I said when the ‘shooter’ busted in.”
“Same difference.”
“The hell it is,” Crawford said. “As Sergeant Lester here will tell you, the devil’s in the details.
It’s my statement you’re recording, so, let’s keep it accurate, please. For the record, I didn’t know his
name until just now. Rodriguez, you said?”
“Jorge,” Nugent supplied.
Neal shot a glare at the younger detective, silently rebuking him for the gaffe, then came back to
Crawford. “That information doesn’t leave this room.”
“Like I didn’t know that?”
It seemed to rankle Neal that Crawford was also a law officer. His tone remained brittle. “Do you
recognize the name?”
“No.”
“Ever seen him before you two met on the roof?”
“No. He wasn’t even vaguely familiar. Have you asked the judge? The name mean anything to
her?”
“She says no,” Nugent replied. “But we’re going to check her court records and those of the late
Judge Waters.”
“Could be he held a grudge against her or Waters. Or maybe Rodriguez had a beef with the U.S.
justice system in general. Have you checked—”
“We’re on it,” Neal said tightly.
Crawford got the hint: It wasn’t his case. A Texas Ranger had jurisdiction anywhere in the state.
He could join an investigation or initiate one without invitation of any other agency, local, state, or
federal. But Neal was making it perfectly clear that, from where Crawford was sitting tonight, he was
to answer questions, not ask them.
Neal continued, “You said that when the shooter busted in you were on the witness stand.
Accurate enough?”
“Yes.”
“What issue were you and judge addressing?”
“You told me you have a transcript of the hearing.”
“We do.”
“So…” He looked over at Nugent, who was shaking peanuts into his mouth. “What’s unclear,
Sergeant Lester?”
“The judge commended you for keeping all your appointments with a therapist.”
“Right. She did. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“It could have a lot to do with how you reacted to the unfolding situation.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Don’t get your back up. I’m just doing my job here.”
“Right.” He gave Neal an icy stare, then shrugged. “Ask away.”