“Fraud and theft,” Millie said. “We think he’s been skimming client accounts, but the paper trail has been difficult to prove. The guy knows what he’s doing.”
Tate frowned. “A white-collar crime like that is a far distance from kidnapping, assault, or potentially murder.”
“Oh, he hated her,” Scott said.
“The guy’s a real blockhead,” Millie added. “I ended up testifying in their divorce case. He threatened me when I was leaving court and called me the other day. The moron thinks I’m his enemy now or something.”
Tate rolled his neck. “We’re executing a search warrant on Julie Dearth’s house later today, and I don’t have probable cause to bring him in for questioning. I am, however, asking him to come in.” He turned his attention to Scott. “As far as you know, does Julie have any other enemies?”
“Not that I know,” Scott said. “She’s friends with my mother, and I need to check in with her today anyway. I’ll ask her if she knows anything and call you if she does.”
Tate shut the top file folder. “If you don’t mind, would you please run me through everything you know about Werner Dearth? Both of you?”
Roscoe padded over and sat near Millie, placing his head on her lap. She started to pet him.
“No problem,” Scott said. “I’m happy to tell you everything I know about that asshole.” Was there a possibility that Dearth had harmed his wife? If so, how unhinged was he?
Chapter Nineteen
Millie didn’t make it past the first floor of HDD headquarters before being told that somebody would meet her. She waited quietly in the visitor area by herself with her hands clasped in her lap. Security had refused to let Roscoe inside, so Scott had taken him for a walk around the block.
Maybe she’d be assigned to a different case. She wouldn’t mind never seeing Werner Dearth again.
Agent Rutherford emerged from the elevator bank and walked toward her wearing his usual high-end suit. He wore a light gray pinstripe suit, complemented by a deeper gray tie. The ensemble flattered him. The guy had smooth blond hair, sharp blue eyes, and a jaw made to take a punch. She had wanted to land that punch more than once.
She stood, wishing she had worn jeans and a sweatshirt instead of this ridiculous suit that made her feel like an eighty-year-old schoolmarm. “Agent Rutherford, good afternoon.”
He handed her an envelope. “We’re in the middle of something right now, but here is the notice of your termination.”
Her ears started to ring. What? “You’re actually terminating me?”
“Yes.” His face remained implacable. “You blew our case because of your relationship with Scott Terentson.”
She hadn’t had a relationship with Scott. Well, until last night. Shock zipped through her. “Sheer chance brought us together when I positioned those listening devices,” she protested. Panic fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird battering her rib cage and seeking freedom.
“I understand that,” Rutherford said. “Apparently, Angus Force and his crew have been a bad influence on you, Agent Frost. You used to be good at your job, but hanging around with that team has destroyed any objectivity you may have had.”
Irritation snapped through her. “That’s ridiculous. Angus’s team has solved more crimes than any other unit here.” Their unconventional nature led to their location in Virginia instead of the main headquarters. She actually missed the team and wished she could call Angus right now. A thought occurred to her. “Wait a minute. For a while, Angus was my direct supervisor. Don’t you have to notify him?”
“He’s not your direct supervisor right now,” Rutherford retorted.
She looked down, trying to think, and caught sight of his shiny brown loafers. They probably cost more than her car. Not for the first time, she wondered where Rutherford earned all his money. It wasn’t any of her business, and contrary to public opinion, she wasn’t a computer hacker. She dealt with gadgets, not code.
“This isn’t fair,” she said, trying to keep her tone reasonable.
“I don’t really care. You’ve received notice. The procedure is outlined in the papers I gave you. You’ll have an opportunity to respond, and you may request a hearing next week. After that, a decision will be made.” He stared at her, his gaze hard. “I can tell you the decision will be that you’re out.”
This was unbelievable. Nobody matched her talent with gadgets. “You’re such a jerk,” she said.
“Name-calling? That’ll go in the report as well,” he said.
“Oh please, like everybody who’s ever met you doesn’t know you’re a jerk? I will fight this.” Without waiting for his answer, she turned and walked quickly out of the first floor into the frigid March day. The cold in DC currently surpassed that of River City. She looked both ways and caught sight of Scott and Roscoe headed her way.
“That was quick,” Scott said, reaching her.
Roscoe panted happily, probably still buzzed from the alcohol he’d licked off the floor earlier. But the dog seemed to be fine, so she’d just keep giving him water.
She scratched behind his ears. “We need to get this dog some help,” she murmured.
