In Death 12 - Betrayal in Death

into her face..
    "Don't you start on me. You slept with the guy, for God's sake. What does that make you?"
    She put out an all-points on Michael Connelly, though she expected he would be well into the wind. Her only hope was that word didn't spread from Mick to Naples to Yost before she closed in.
    But even if the heist was aborted, she believed Yost would stick. He'd contracted for Summerset, and he wasn't the type to leave a job unfinished. It would give her time.
    And if she was lucky, very lucky, she could use Yost to hook Naples. Her case would not be closed in her mind until she had them both.
    "We proceed on the assumption that the hotel will be the target," she told her team. "Everything is set for it. Even if Connelly has bolted, Naples can still implement. He has all the data, and has gone to considerable expense. He'll want to make good on his investment."
    "If Connelly goes to him," Feeney put in, "they may still try for it, but they'll shift strategy. They may hit sooner, or wait, come at it from another angle."
    "Agreed. We put our counter-plan into place expecting adjustments, and expecting them to hit at any time."
    "We'll need Roarke and his top security team," McNab commented.
    "I'm aware of that. Feeney, would you discuss that level with Roarke?" She gestured to the adjoining door.
    He got up, knocked, and passed through.
    "Study the Connelly data until you know it backwards," Eve ordered, then went into the kitchen for coffee, and a moment alone.
    Peabody slid her eyes toward McNab, away, then back again. She was getting damn sick of the silent treatment. She hadn't done anything. He was the one who had jumped right on some redhead. Oh yeah, she'd gotten the word on that minor orgy through the grapevine. Little prick.
    "Have a good time on your date?"
    "Oh yeah. It rocked."
    "You bite."
    "Is that an invitation?
    She sniffed. "I don't go around with jerks who bounce on bimbos."
    "I don't go around with jerkettes who bounce on LCs," he tossed back.
    "At least an LC knows how to treat a woman."
    "Sure, if you pay him enough." He crossed his legs, examined the toes of his new Airstream boots. "What's the matter, Peabody, Charles's calendar too full? You sound like a woman who isn't getting any."
    "Screw you."
    "Any time, Peabody. You can even have it for free."
    She leaped up. So did he. "I wouldn't let you touch me again if you paid me."
    "Fine. I don't have time on some stiff-assed, cornbread uniform."
    "Break it up," Eve ordered. "Now!" If she wasn't mistaken, her aide was on the verge of tears. And McNab didn't look far behind. They were both giving her a bitch of a headache. "Private business on your own time, damn it. The two of you will work together through this, around this, or under this, I don't give a damn how you manage it. But when you're on my watch, you stand up and do the job. Is that clear?"
    "Yes, sir." It came from both of them, at a mumble, and would have to satisfy.
    "Peabody, check on Lane at the hospital, and see that the tag on Liza is still in place. I want an update on both. McNab, run a full analysis of Connelly's data. I want all possible adjustment scenarios on my desk within two hours."
    "Sir, Roarke -- "
    "Did I give you an order, Detective, or ask for a discussion?"
    "An order, Lieutenant."
    "Then follow it." She marched to Roarke's door, pushed it open. Both he and Feeney were behind the console. Both looked up.
    "Feeney, I've started McNab on an analysis. Will you see he gets started?"
    "No problem."
    She waited until the door shut after him. "I'm tired," she said, "I have a headache, and I'm pissed off at you."
    "Well, that should about cover it."
    "No, it doesn't. I don't have the time or the energy to waste having a sniping match with you like the one I just had the misfortune to overhear between Peabody and McNab. You were wrong to let Connelly go. But that's from where I stand. From where you stand, you did what you had to. We can't come together on that, but we need each other to finish this job. When it's finished, we'll have to deal with the fact that we're standing on opposite sides of a line. Until then, it's tabled."
    She turned for the door, gave it a shove, and found it locked. "Unlock this door. Don't mess with me now."
    "I'd prefer you shouted and got this done, but since it's not the anger so much that's driving you, you won't. I'll need a few moments of your time."
    "I've done all the personal business I'm going to do right now."
    "I hurt you. You