In Death 12 - Betrayal in Death

me at this number at all times. Thanks."
    "Jacoby?" Eve asked.
    "In a coma." Stowe shoved the 'link in her pocket. "Critical. His heart -- they may have to try to replace it. He took a direct hit. Clicked him off like a switch. I should have gone with him. He's my partner. I wanted to see you. Needed to tell you. I didn't tip Jacoby. He must have sensed something was up and tailed me. I didn't tell him about this. I didn't break faith with you."
    "If I thought you had, I wouldn't have Yost on ice waiting for you to book and interview."
    Stowe turned and faced Eve. "You tracked him, set up the op, and you took him down. It's your collar, Dallas."
    "We made a deal. You stuck to yours, I stuck to mine. He's at Central, maximum holding. They're expecting you."
    Stowe nodded. "You ever need a favor from the Bureau, it's yours."
    "I'll keep it in mind. You've got to stall him on the lawyer, keep him incommunicado until after oh two hundred hours. You have a little delay getting to Central, the paperwork gets lost for his transfer to your authority."
    "If I can't delay for fourteen hours, give or take, I shouldn't be working for the government. He won't tip anybody about your op. Whenever you want to interview him about your two homicides, I'll clear it. He give you that?" she asked, jerking her chin toward Eve's face.
    "I got it on the tackle, bringing him down."
    "You ought to put some ice on it."
    "Tell me."
    "It's been a pleasure." Stowe held out her hand. "Lieutenant."
    "Likewise. Agent."
    She ordered Peabody to find the closest 24/7 and buy some ice. In direct violation of orders, Peabody hit the closest pharmacy and brought back a cold patch with anti-inflammatories and a bottle of pain blockers.
    "Where's my ice?"
    "This is better than ice."
    "Officer -- "
    "Lieutenant, if you use this patch correctly, your face will not be swollen up like a beat-up ad blimp when you check in at the hotel to recon with security. Which means, Roarke won't haul you off to the MTs or administer first aid himself. Since you particularly dislike both of these eventualities, I suggest you take what I got you and avoid this future annoyance."
    "That was good, Peabody. Really good. I hate you, but it was good." Eve snatched the box, scowled at the instructions for the patch. "How the hell does this thing work?"
    "I'll do it. Just hold still."
    So Peabody opened the box, activated the anti-inflammatory, and affixed the patch over Eve's aching nose. The relief was considerable, and it was quick, but one look in the mirror had Eve swearing.
    "I look like an idiot."
    "Yes, you do," Peabody agreed, studying the result of the white strip over Eve's face. "But you looked like an idiot without it, too. Sir. Got your sun shades?"
    "No, I can never keep track of them."
    "Take mine." Generously, Peabody pulled hers out of her pocket, handed them over. "Better," she said when Eve slipped the dark glasses on. "A little better. Want some water to down the blocker?"
    "I don't want a blocker."
    "It'll give the patch a boost. Make it work faster."
    Though she suspected that was a lie, Eve took the tiny blue pill, swallowed, snarled. "There. Do you think I could get back to work now, Nurse Peabody?"
    "Yes, sir, I think that's the best we can do for you right now."
    She stopped by the hospital first to check on Lane. He was in a gentle twilight sleep, with his condition listed as satisfactory. The cover of allergic reaction was holding. Kept quarantined, he was allowed no visitors.
    Eve was informed his mother had been to the hospital twice, and had watched him through the view glass. Liza Trent had signed in once, and had stayed for under five minutes.
    If any other friends or associates had come by, they'd evaded the log. Eve had come armed with a warrant and was able to access copies of the security discs for Lane's floor with only half the usual hassle.
    "Michel Gerade," she said when she played the disc back in her office. He stood, frowning at Lane through the viewing glass. "Nice of him to visit his sick pal."
    "He doesn't look concerned so much as pissed."
    "Yeah, and he didn't bring a get-well present, did he? This confirms Gerade's presence in New York. If he participates in this attempted heist, we may link him solid to Yost. Diplomatic immunity won't cover his sorry ass on conspiracy to commit murder."
    "Neither one of the Naples men showed up on disc?"
    "No. I'm betting Gerade there drew the straw for errand boy. Make sure Lane is hospitalized as