In Death 32 - Treachery in Death

her. “Thanks for the space.”
    “You’re welcome. And?”
    “We worked it out. Mostly a combination of parallel but not quite meshing goals and a misunderstanding of motivations.” She went to his AutoChef for coffee. Closed her eyes, rubbed the space between her eyebrows.
    “Take a minute, Eve. Sit.”
    “Better not. I need to get this briefing finished, shut down for some thinking time. Then gear up for these meetings. Christ—Oberman, Tibble, and IAB.” She opened her eyes again. “It’s going to be a rough morning.”
    “You’ve already had one.” He moved to her to gently rub that spot between her eyebrows himself.
    “Opened him up, ear to ear. He was dead before he hit the floor. Fast, fast way to go, and he’d earned slow and painful, in my book. And even so, it’s not up to her to decide who lives, who dies. How. When. It’s not her call.”
    Because she wasn’t who she’d been before, she laid her aching brow on his shoulder. “He’d probably have done the same—to Renee, to me, to whoever. Odds are he walked in there thinking he’d be opening me up, ear to ear. He was an open, festering wound on the department.”
    She straightened again.
    “And Keener? Maybe harmless in the big scheme, maybe he gave his pizza server a nice tip when he was flush. But he lived his life on junk, and peddling it. I don’t imagine he’d have had a quibble if the buyer was twelve, as long as the kid had the scratch. He was a pig, looking for the easy way in and the easy way out.”
    She drank some coffee, set it aside. “But none of that matters. Festering wound, pig, she doesn’t get to decide.”
    Roarke cupped her face. “He’d have killed you if he could, and enjoyed it. Another cop may be primary on his murder, but Garnet’s yours now.”
    “That’s just the way it is.”
    “For you, yes. That’s why Renee Oberman will never understand you.”
    “I understand her.”
    “Yes, I know you do.” He kissed her lightly. “Let’s get this done.”
    With a nod she walked to the door connecting their offices.

17
    EVE LISTENED TO HER E-MEN EXPLAIN, IN their way, McNab’s idea for a tap and trace. She listened until her ears began to ring.
    She waved a hand in the air to cut off the geek-fest. “Bottom line. If you can do this, we’d have Renee’s disposable—incoming and outgoings on record.”
    “Bottom line,” Feeney agreed. “But that doesn’t credit the juice in the concept or execution—and this one’s loaded with it.”
    “Kudos all around. If you can take it from concept to execution, we need a warrant.”
    Feeney puffed out his cheeks. “Yeah, that would be a little hitch. We’ve got enough for one, Dallas, starting with Peabody’s statement, going right on through your meet with Renee, the financials, the tail last night to dead Garnet. It’s your call whether we go there. IAB could work one.”
    Her call, she thought, and every decision angled off another path. “I’ll get the warrant and inform IAB—after you’ve pulled off your juicy concept. I’ll need to meet with Reo,” she said, thinking of the ADA she trusted. “And before I meet with the commander again. Privately meet with her. Peabody—”
    “Oh man, you want me to tag Crack again.”
    “Him, then Reo. Tell her to meet me there in thirty. Say it’s urgent and confidential. You know what to do.”
    “Yeah,” Peabody said on a sigh.
    “Roarke, Peabody’s going to need a vehicle.”
    “I am? Aren’t I with you? You need me for Reo, then, Dallas, I should be with you for the meet with Commander Oberman, to push with you with IAB.”
    “No. I’ve got your statement for Reo. Dealing with Commander Oberman and IAB, that’s my job. You need to pursue your investigation. You need to stand for Detective Devin, Peabody. You need to get justice for her, and that’s what you’ll do. I have every confidence that’s what you’ll do.”
    “I’m not even sure I’m going down the right roads,” Peabody began.
    “You’ll find out.” She glanced at Roarke, and he nodded.
    “I’ll see to the vehicle. Feeney, why don’t I meet you and McNab in the lab here? I’ll be right along.”
    McNab gave Peabody a quick, supportive shoulder squeeze before he went out with his captain.
    “Don’t give her anything flashy,” Eve called out to Roarke.
    “Maybe just . . .” Peabody held up her thumb and forefinger, a half inch apart.
    Roarke sent her a wink and left them alone.
    Eve pointed Peabody to a