In Death 11 - Judgment in Death

going to sit still for having to squeeze another damn press conference into her schedule. And if he thought he could yank her off the investigation to make the proper noises to the media, he could just...
    Oh boy.
    It wouldn't help matters for her to march into Tibble's office leading with attitude. Any more, she thought, than this underlying pity would help if her suspicions regarding the killer's identity proved out.
    Her job was to close the case. And the dead, whoever they were, deserved her best.
    As for Ricker, she intended to close that circle as well.
    Tibble didn't keep her waiting. That surprised her a little. But it was nothing compared to the jolt she got when she stepped into his office and saw Roarke sitting there, cool-eyed and comfortable.
    "Lieutenant." From his desk, Tibble gestured her inside. "Have a seat. You've had a long night," he added. His face was calm, blank. As was that of her commander who sat with his hands on his thighs.
    It was, Eve thought, like coming in late to a high-stakes poker game. And she didn't know the price of the damn ante.
    "Sir. The preliminary report on Bayliss has already been updated with initial lab reports." She glanced meaningfully toward Roarke. "I am unable to specify regarding the evidence in the presence of a civilian."
    "The civilian came in handy last night," Tibble said.
    "Yes, sir." She, too, knew how to hold her cards close, and merely nodded. "It was vital to arrange the fastest transportation to Bayliss's weekend home."
    "Not quite fast enough."
    "No, sir."
    "That wasn't a criticism, Lieutenant. Your instincts regarding Captain Bayliss were correct. If you hadn't followed them as you did, we might still, at this point, be unaware of his murder. As I admire your instincts, Lieutenant, I'm about to follow them myself. I've made Roarke a temporary civilian attache as regards the investigation of Max Ricker, concurrent with your investigation of these homicides."
    "Chief Tibble -- "
    "You have an objection, Lieutenant?" Tibble spoke smoothly. If her head hadn't been busy exploding, she might have heard the whiff of humor in the tone.
    "A number of them, beginning with the fact that the Ricker matter is not priority. I am on the point of analyzing new evidence and data that I believe will lead to an arrest in the matter of my current investigation. The connection to Ricker exists," she continued, "is key, but it has no bearing on these leads or on the anticipated arrest. The connection is, I believe more emotional than tangible. Therefore, the pursuit of Ricker is secondary, and it is my belief that this pursuit can and will be continued subsequent to interview with the suspect in the homicides. I request that any steps in the Ricker area be postponed until my current case is closed."
    Tibble watched her. "You're now a target."
    "Every cop's a target. The killer is attempting to shift my focus from him onto Ricker. I don't intend to accommodate him. And respectfully, sir, neither should you."
    There was just enough heat in the last of her statement to cause Tibble's brows to lift. Just enough to have the corners of his mouth lift in what could never be mistaken for amusement.
    "Lieutenant Dallas, in my observations of your work, I have never perceived your focus shifting one degree once set on course. But perhaps I've missed something, or perhaps these current matters are more than you can reasonably handle. If that's the case, I'll assign the Ricker matter to another officer."
    "That's my second ultimatum in the last few hours. I don't like ultimatums."
    "You're not required to like it. You're required to do your job."
    "Chief Tibble." Roarke, voice quiet, interrupted. "We've taken the lieutenant off guard, after a difficult night. My presence here adds a personal level. I wonder if we might explain the reason I'm here before this goes any farther."
    It was nearly out of her mouth, the pissy little snipe that would tell Roarke in no uncertain terms she didn't need him defending her. But Whitney got to his feet, nodded.
    "I think we might take a breath here, calm ourselves down. I'd like some coffee, sir. With your permission, I'll get some for all of us while Roarke outlines the basic plan for Lieutenant Dallas's benefit."
    Tibble gave a brief nod, gestured to Roarke, then sat back in his chair.
    "As I've told you and have informed your superiors, I once had a brief business association with Max Ricker. An association," Roarke added, "which I severed upon