In Death 29 - Kindred in Death

this? You have Feeney?”
    “He should be there now, with a team.”
    “I want in. Dallas, you have to let me in.”
    “I don’t have to do anything,” she said coolly. “Captain Feeney will have autonomy on e-details.”
    He got to his feet again, every line in his body tensed. “You won’t block me.”
    “Is that a question or a statement?”
    He remembered himself—and her. “A request.”
    “As I said, e-detail is under Feeney’s province. The work’s harder when it’s someone you care about. You already know that.”
    His throat worked as he nodded. “When Alice was murdered, Deena was a rock for me. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but she just kept being there until I had to. I’m going to be there for her now. I can handle it. In three years when I’m finished college, I’m joining the force. College first, that’s the deal I made, but then I’m going for the badge. I can handle it.”
    “Deal with who?”
    “With Roarke, since he’s picking up the freight the scholarship doesn’t cover. And you didn’t know that.” The faintest smile came back to his eyes. “I guess he knows how to keep things tight, too.”
    “Apparently. If Feeney gives you the nod, I’ve got no problem with it. I’m sorry you lost your friend, Jamie.”
    “Do her parents know?”
    “They found her this morning.”
    He sighed. “I’d like to go over. Not just for the work, but I may be able to help them.”
    “They’re with the Whitneys.”
    He nodded. “I’m going to go over anyway, speak to the captain. Ask him to let me in.”
    “Clean up first. Even e-geeks should have some standards.”
    “McNab will be there.” Peabody spoke for the first time, then rose. She crossed to Jamie, hugged him. “You could toss some stuff in a bag, and hang out at our place if you don’t want to be alone here.”
    “Maybe. Thanks.” He sighed again. “Yeah, maybe.”
    And when he laid his head on Peabody’s shoulder Eve saw there was still a boy in there. “I went to a party last night. Maybe if I’d asked her to go. Maybe—”
    “You couldn’t have changed anything.” Peabody drew him back. “We go from here.”
    He nodded. “From here.”
     
    He’s going to be thinking of his sister, too,” Peabody commented when they were back in the vehicle. “He won’t be able to help it. Most people get through their lives without violent death touching it. He’s eighteen, and dealt with it three times.”
    “Working with EDD might help him deal. If you had a secret guy, would you keep him secret?”
    “I had such crap luck with guys for such a long stretch a serious date would have been cause for taking out an airtram ad. But Jamie’s right—at least it jibes with my sense—she could keep things tight.”
    Eve pulled up at the next address—a well-maintained multi-family building. “She was only sixteen, and going by our current theory very likely infatuated with an older boy. Jaime said she asked about college guys. She had to tell someone something. I vote for the BGPFAE.”
    The Jennings’s apartment took up the corner on the third and fourth floor. The woman who answered the door appeared to be harassed. The root might have been, Eve concluded, the shouted argument in full swing. Furious voices—a girl, a boy—blasted down the stairs.
    “Yes. What is it?”
    “Mrs. Jennings?”
    “Yes.”
    “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD, and Detective Peabody.”
    “God, are the neighbors complaining?” She held out her hands, wrists together. “Will you arrest me if I just go up and bash their heads together? Please, please do. I could use the quiet.”
    “May we come in?”
    The woman gave the badges the briefest of glances. “Yes, yes. I don’t even know what they’re fighting about now. They’ve been at each other most of the morning about one thing or the other. Peace Day, my ass,” she said with weary bitterness. “Their father’s golfing. Bastard,” she added with the smallest hint of a smile. “Maybe you could just arrest them, then I could have five minutes of peace !”
    She shouted the last word, aiming for the stairs. It didn’t make a dent in the noise.
    “Mrs. Jennings we’re not here about a complaint.” Why didn’t she tell them to shut the hell up? Eve wondered. “We’re Homicide.”
    “I haven’t killed anyone. Yet. Was there an incident in the building?”
    “No, ma’am. We’re here about Deena MacMasters?”
    “Deena? Why would you . . . Deena ?”
    Eve watched