In Death 11 - Judgment in Death

pocket."
    "Yeah." Feeney sighed. "Yeah, you said. Anyway, the killer went right through the stages. I can follow it like a map."
    She nodded because it fit, and the dread in her stomach was ignored. On Feeney's face she read her own thoughts and her own conflict.
    "Okay, odds are we're looking for a cop, retired or active."
    Feeney crunched down on an almond. "Hell."
    "Both victims knew their killer and trusted him or considered him no particular threat." She moved behind her desk, brought up a wall screen. "Kohli," she began, drawing a diagram. "To Mills. Mills to Martinez. Roth connects to all three. At the center of it is Max Ricker. Who else connects?" As an answer, she brought up a list of the names of the task force from Illegals who worked on Ricker's case. "We run all these cops."
    She paused long enough to scan faces. "Inside and out. I want it done without sending up any flags. Concentrate on financials. Both Kohli and Mills had suspicious funds. Follow the money."
    "Sucks," McNab commented. His eyes were cool and flat as he studied the names. "Lieutenant, if these two were dirty, taking money from Ricker or one of his sources, why take them out? Why would another cop on the take go after them?"
    "You think there's honor among thieves, McNab?"
    "No... well, sort of. I mean what would be the point?"
    "Self-protection, covering your ass. Guilt, remorse." She lifted a shoulder. "Or it could be as simple as Ricker paying one more to cut down the field. Thirty pieces of silver," she mused. "Ricker's really fond of silver. You may not find the killer on this list. But you may find the next target. Thirty pieces of silver," she said again. "A symbol of betrayal. Maybe whoever killed these men wanted us to know they were wrong cops. We need to find out why. You start by finding out how many more are wrong."
    "Shit's going to hit the fan when this comes out," Feeney told her. "Some aren't going to be happy you tossed mud on the badge."
    "There's already blood on it. I've got to get to Central, then over to court. We'd better work out of here today. I'll get another computer brought in so you can network."
    The lock light was still on the adjoining door. She wasn't about to humiliate herself by knocking on it in front of her associates. Instead, she went out, walked down the hall and, swallowing pride, knocked from there.
    Roarke opened it himself, briefcase in hand. "Lieutenant. I was just heading out."
    "Yeah, well, me, too. My team's going to set up here today. It'd be helpful if they had another computer unit or two."
    "Summerset will get them whatever they need."
    "Yeah, good. Well..."
    He touched her arm, turning her so that they walked toward the steps together. "Was there something else?"
    "It's really distracting trying to work and knowing you're still torqued at me."
    "I imagine so. What would you like me to do about it?"
    It was said so pleasantly, she wanted to kick him. "I said I was sorry. Damn it."
    "So you did. How rude of me to still be... what was it? Torqued."
    "You're better at this than I am," she said grimly. "We're not on even ground."
    "Life has very little even ground." But he couldn't hold out against her misery and stopped halfway down the stairs. "I love you, Eve. Nothing changes that, nothing could. But Christ, you piss me off."
    The wash of relief at hearing him say he loved her warred with irritation that she should be slapped, again, for doing what she'd thought best. "Look, I just didn't want you involved in -- "
    "Ah." He tapped a finger on her lips to silence her. "There it is. There's quite a world of trouble with that single statement. As I doubt you have time, and know I don't, to explore that world right at the moment, why don't you, between your quests for justice today, give it some thought."
    "Don't talk to me like I'm a moron."
    He kissed her, which was something, but did so lightly before continuing down the steps. "Go to work, Eve. We'll talk about this later."
    "How come he's in charge?" she muttered. She heard him say something to Summerset, something quick and careless before the door opened. Closed.
    She started down, replaying the scene in her head, with all the sharp, pithy, and clever things she would have said if she'd had a few minutes to think about it.
    "Lieutenant." Summerset stood at the base of the stairs, holding out her jacket. It was something he never did. "I'll see to it that your associates have the equipment they require."
    "Yeah, great.