Sullivan's Law Read Online Free Page A

don’t you?”
    â€œWe’ve already gone through it,” Brad said. “I was in your shoes until recently. I know how overworked you guys are. Downly left a ton of evidence at the scene. How do you think they fingered him as the rapist so fast?”
    Carolyn closed the Metroix file. “I have to take work home with me every night as it is, and I’ve never put in a request for overtime.”
    Brad gave her a chastising look. “Now isn’t the time to complain.”
    â€œI’m not complaining,” she said. “I’m attending law school, in case you’ve forgotten. The reading alone is killing me. Last night I fell asleep at the kitchen table in my clothes. And I’m not spending enough time with my children.” She stopped and sucked in a breath. “You don’t assign me thefts and burglaries, Brad. If you want me to do a decent job on the serious cases, you can’t expect me to ride herd on a bunch of probationers and parolees. And especially not a case as sensitive as this one. I know you’re my supervisor, but shouldn’t you rethink this?”
    â€œYou’re our top investigator,” he told her, riffling through his desk drawer and pulling out a bottle of Tylenol. “Never drink tequila on a weeknight.” Once he washed the pills down with his coffee, he continued. “What would take another officer several months to complete, you can knock off in a few days. Sometimes I think you know more about the law than half of our judges. When you recommend a fifty-year sentence, it’s a done deal. If you told the court a defendant should be taken out and shot, a few of the judges would start shopping for a shotgun.”
    â€œDon’t be asinine,” Carolyn said, her face flushing in embarrassment. “My recommendations are imposed because they’re well researched and appropriate. The judges know me, that’s all. They know I take my work seriously.”
    â€œNo,” he argued. “That’s power.”
    â€œWielding power in the courtroom doesn’t pay my bills,” she told him. “Why do you think I’m working so hard to get my law degree?”
    â€œPut in for overtime. Are you that much of a martyr?”
    â€œYou know what’s going on, Brad,” Carolyn told him, surprised that he’d make such a statement. “With the budget cutbacks, if we start putting in for overtime, they’ll start laying off people. Then we’ll have more work than we have now.”
    â€œI admit I assign you more difficult cases,” he said, bracing his head with his hand. He hadn’t taken the time to get a haircut, and with his blond hair almost reaching his eyebrows, his face took on a deceptive look of innocence. “Sure, it’s not fair. I don’t have a choice. You’re one of the few people who understands the complexities of sentencing. Assign one of our other officers a twenty-count case, with multiple victims and dozens of enhancements, and I’ll end up doing most of the work myself.”
    The cases kept coming like bullets, and the only way Carolyn could meet the mandatory deadlines was to start plowing through them as soon as they hit her desk. Officers who procrastinated either did a lousy job or ended up putting in twenty-four-hour days. With her outside commitments, Carolyn couldn’t afford to let her work stockpile.
    Supervising a parolee was not anywhere as complex as handling a pre-sentence investigation, however. Unless the individual violated, the only obligation was to monitor his activities on a monthly basis. On the other hand, supervision was dangerous. After glancing through the file, Carolyn knew Brad was placing her in a precarious position, the last place she needed to be at the moment. “Everyone and his dog are going to be looking over my shoulder with Metroix.”
    â€œGood observation,” Preston said sarcastically, tapping his