Sullivan's Law Read Online Free

her trademark.
    Carolyn kept her head down as she darted down the hall toward Brad’s office. Rachel wasn’t at her desk, and the door to his office was standing open. He looked harried, yet not to the extent he had earlier.
    â€œWilson took it fairly well,” Brad told her, referring to the head of the agency. “I just got off the phone with Hank Sawyer at the PD. He was amazed at the amount of work you put in on Downly. You’ve got all his known associates, local haunts, relatives, employers.” He flashed a confident smile, displaying a row of gleaming white teeth. “My bet is Downly will be behind bars before the day is over. Sawyer didn’t even mention anything related to the supervision problem. The average term of probation is thirty-six months. We may luck out on this one. The press certainly doesn’t know what we do. The idiots don’t even know the difference between concurrent and consecutive sentences.”
    â€œYou mentioned a new case,” Carolyn said, concerned that there might be repercussions. Brad Preston was a proverbial optimist. And all his emotions were out in the open. If you made a mistake or pissed him off, he pounced on you like a cougar. On the other hand, if he caught sight of a solution, he instantly moved on to the next problem. Although she’d resented the fact that he’d been promoted over her, she had to admit that Brad had been the better candidate for this stressful position.
    â€œYeah, the case,” he said, handing her a file. “The last thing we need is another parolee, right? The knuckleheads in Sacramento should take the heat for what happened with Downly. As soon as the maximum case levels are reached at the district parole offices, the overflow is dumped in our laps. We work for the county, not the state.”
    â€œWhy doesn’t field services handle the parolees?” Carolyn asked him. “Our job is to write court reports, reports that are mandated by law. That’s why the unit is called Court Services, even though no one seems to care.”
    â€œSame problem,” Brad told her. “Field services can’t possibly supervise the number of people we have on active probation.” He paused, then a moment later continued. “Okay, here’s the deal. After twenty-three years, they paroled the man who killed Charles Harrison’s son. This is a famous case. You must have heard about it.”
    Carolyn’s jaw dropped. “Are you referring to the deputy chief of the LAPD?”
    â€œHarrison, yeah,” Brad said. “But when his son was killed, he was the chief here in Ventura.”
    â€œBut why would you want me to handle this case?” Carolyn asked, glancing through the prisoner’s release sheet from Chino. “Even though the PD didn’t spot the problem with the Downly matter, that doesn’t mean it won’t come back to bite us.”
    â€œYou’re the bomb, sweetheart,” Brad said. “Look over the particulars. I’ll get us some coffee.” He leapt out of his chair and disappeared through the doorway.
    Carolyn looked up to ask him a question before she realized he was no longer in the room. Another one of the man’s unique traits was that he moved like a bolt of lightning. Where did all the energy come from? She knew he wasn’t on drugs. Brad always said he’d trade his frenetic energy for her ability to concentrate. When Carolyn put her mind to something, a person could drop a brick on her foot and she wouldn’t notice.
    She stared at the photo of her new parolee. Whereas Brad looked remarkably young for his age, Daniel Metroix appeared ten years older than his forty-one years. His skin was ashen, his dark brown hair was matted and dirty, and his eyes were lined with dark shadows.
    When Brad returned and shoved a steaming cup of coffee into her hand, she accepted it eagerly. “You know why I stopped seeing Eddie Downly,