In Death 12 - Betrayal in Death

her desk, and tried to decide if she should alert Roarke that Summerset had, as Roarke had predicted, shaken her police tag.
    The hell with it, she thought. She had to get into the field. She was dumping the problem of Summerset into Roarke's lap.
    Even as she stepped toward the 'link, the problem walked into her office.
    "What the hell are you doing here?"
    "Believe me, Lieutenant, this visit is every bit as distasteful for me as it is for you." Summerset glanced around her cramped office, skimmed his elegant gaze over her stingy window, her lumpy chair. Sniffed. "No, I see it could never be as distasteful for you."
    She walked around him, shut her door with a bad-tempered slam. "You ditched my men."
    "I may have to live under the same roof as a cop, but I certainly am not obliged to have them following me around on my free time." He sneered, feeling much more like himself again. "They were inept and obvious. If you were going to insult me, the least you could have done was engage adequately trained individuals."
    She wasn't going to argue. She'd plucked two of the best available trackers. And both of them had already taken a lashing from the sharpest edge of her tongue. "If you're here to file a citizen's complaint, see the desk sergeant. I'm busy."
    "I'm here, against my best judgment, to give a statement. I prefer discussing this with you, under the circumstances. I don't wish to trouble Roarke."
    "Trouble him?" Her gut clenched. "What happened?"
    He glanced at the choice of seats again, sighed, then opted to give his statement standing.
    He had to give her credit. After one explosive oath, she fell silent. She listened, her eyes narrowed, flat as a shark's and just as ruthless.
    When he was done giving what he felt was an admirably concise and thorough statement, she hammered him with questions over points he'd never considered.
    Yes, he habitually stopped at that market, at that time, on his half-day. He most often observed the maxibus stop there as he enjoyed the rough ballet, so to speak, of passengers.
    Yost had come up behind him, slightly to the left side. Yes, he himself was right-handed.
    Yost had been wearing a sandy wig, a brush cut, military style, and a pearl gray overcoat. Light material, though it had been warm enough to go without a topcoat. The stunner had brushed Yost on his right shoulder, causing him to drop the syringe before the full dose could be administered.
    It had, apparently, caught the bystander mid-chest, but he was recovering well from that and the minor scrapes and bruises received on his trip down to the sidewalk.
    "Does anyone know you were carrying an illegal weapon?"
    "The grocer. Otherwise, I told the beat droid Yost had the stunner, and had attempted to attack me with it and hit the unfortunate man from Utah instead. I did, however, give the man's wife my card so that all medical expenses could be sent to me. It was the least I could do."
    "The least you could have done was let me and my men do our jobs. If you hadn't ditched the tag, we might have nabbed him when he went for you."
    "Perhaps," Summerset said evenly, "if you had been courteous enough to discuss your plans that involved me with me, rather than sneak behind my back, I might have cooperated."
    "My ass."
    "Quite correct, but we never explored the possibility. As it is, I managed to defend myself quite satisfactorily, made him extremely uncomfortable. It cost me some minor embarrassment and ten dollars' worth of overpriced grapes."
    "You think this is a joke? Is this a fucking joke?"
    His jaw tightened. "No, Lieutenant, I don't. If I found it even marginally amusing, I would not be in a police station. But I am here, voluntarily, and have given you a statement in the hopes this information may in some way assist you in your investigation."
    "You can assist me in my investigation by sitting your tight ass down until I arrange for a black-and-white to take you home."
    "I will not ride in a police vehicle."
    "You damn well will. You're a known target. I've got enough to worry about without having you dance around the city with a bull's-eye on your butt. From this moment on, you'll do exactly what I tell you, or I'll -- "
    She broke off as her door opened and Roarke came in.
    "Oh yeah, come right in, don't bother to knock. It's old home week."
    "Eve" was all he said, brushing a hand over her arm. But his eyes were riveted to Summerset's face. "Are you all right?"
    "Yes, of course." Should have known, Summerset thought