Each of the five is being paired with an undercover detective from Internal Affairs. I’m to find out how Martinez lives, if he seems to have an extra source of income and who his associates are.” She stopped here, her face showing none of the distaste she felt for the case. Hers was an inherently private nature, and everything in her shrank from the obvious prying that would have to be done here, especially to another cop. She had a question of her own to ask. “How reliable is the snitch?”

“He’s proven reliable in the past, but we won’t be using him again. Three days after he gave us that information he was found in a Dumpster, full of bullet holes.”

“Then how do you know he wasn’t wrong, or feeding you a line?”

This time it was the captain’s turn to shrug. “We don’t. Which is why we can’t get warrants to look at the detectives’ bank accounts without more info. But this could be potentially damaging enough to the department that we have to check them all out. The brass will be breathing down my neck if we don’t find something soon.”

“If Martinez is as great a detective as we hear,” she observed, “he would surely be smart enough to hide any money he had gotten illegally.”

Brewer looked impatient. “Maybe, maybe not. You just do your job. If you uncover something in the course of the case that points to Martinez’s involvement, turn it over to us and we’ll have him removed from the assignment, pending a thorough investigation. You of all people should know how it works, Casey.”

Her lips tightened at the gibe. Yes, she knew how it worked. He could have been referring to her five years’ experience working for Internal Affairs, but she doubted it. The captain had a knack for returning to unpleasant memories, like touching a bruise over and over. She would have liked to make a scathing retort, but she swallowed it. Her voice was even when she asked, “Is there any other information you have on Martinez that I should know about?”