by J. D. Robb
“We’re listening,” Janburry told her.
“You can have Bix when it’s time to haul him out of the shit and blood in the water, but Renee’s mine. Not because she’s the bigger catch. You could just say it’s personal. The rest, well, share and share alike.”
“How much rest is there?”
“Still working on that. Do we have a deal?”
The partners exchanged a look. “Is there a secret handshake?” Janburry asked.
“We’ll settle for regular.” After they’d shaken on it, Eve offered the disc. “You’ll find multiple false IDs, multiple secret accounts, and considerable real property tracked back to Renee, Bix, Garnet, and others we’ve nailed down.”
“How involved is IAB?” Delfino wanted to know.
“Thoroughly. Lieutenant Webster is point man there, but his captain has been briefed, as have Commander Whitney and Chief Tibble. This is NTK. Nobody else needs to know until we take them down.”
“Blood and shit in the water,” Delfino repeated. “That’s what dirty cops smell like. Cops who kill cops? They have a special stench over that.”
“He’s going to come after you.” Janburry studied Eve. “You know that.”
“I’m counting on that.”
“You want cover?”
“I’ve got it, thanks. But I will contact you if and when. Whoever takes him down, he’s your collar. That’s the deal.”
When her office emptied out again, Eve flipped the lock. She deserved a little reward, a little boost before she got back down to business.
She took a tool from her desk and hunkered down beside her recycler. But when she removed the panel, no sealed evidence bag of chocolate waited for her.
“Damn it! This blows. This seriously blows.”
Sulking, mourning the loss, she stared at what she’d considered a brilliant hiding place. Her mistake, she admitted, had been leaving her stash in place while she’d gone on vacation.
She’d given the despicable Candy Thief too much time and opportunity to search and consume.
Now she not only wouldn’t get her reward, her boost, but she had to find another hide.
She replaced the panel, tossed her tool back in her desk drawer. She gave herself another thirty seconds to sulk before contacting Peabody.
“Status?”
“I’m a little more than halfway through. Devin had one hell of a collection. Maybe this is a dead end. If she kept documentation or notes, one of Renee’s crew probably found it and destroyed it.”
“Keep at it. Follow it through. If they didn’t find and destroy it, it’s because she hid it well.” Eve gave her recycler a dirty look. “I’ve got some things I need to finish up and tie up here, then I’ll be in. How about the e-team? Are they—Hold on,” she ordered when she heard the faint click at her door.
Rising, she drew her weapon.
Roarke opened the door, cocked his head. “Well now, that isn’t the greeting I’d hoped for.”
She let out a breath, holstered her weapon. “Keep at it, Peabody,” she said. “Tag me if you find anything. Otherwise I’ll see you when I get there.” She broke transmission.
“That door was locked.”
“And your point is?” He stepped over, kissed her thoroughly. “I didn’t knock as I thought you might be taking one of your sprawled-on-the-floor-unconscious naps.”
“Maybe I need a better lock. Maybe I need to start locking it more often.” She dropped into her chair. “Not that it would stop the Candy Thief. My stash is gone.”
“You were going to stun your Candy Thief?”
“I might, come the day. But no, I thought Renee might have snapped and sent Bix down to try to throw me out of my own office window. I gave her plenty of incentive when I had Bix in Interview, and I wanted a reward. I want candy.”
“I haven’t any on me. Get something from Vending.”
“I want my candy.”
He smothered a laugh. “There, there.”
“Bite me.” But she shook it off. “Why are you here? Why is everyone in my office today?”
“I’m here as I also deserve a reward. As do Feeney and McNab.”
“You pulled it off.”
“We did. For the most part they did, but I managed a few flourishes.”
“We need to set it up, need to get IAB tapped in.”
“Feeney’s dealing with it. It’s his baby, after all. Or more McNab’s. Ian flashed some brilliance today. And what have you been up to, Lieutenant?”
“Too many meetings. I’d go psycho if I had to face days stuffed with meetings. There are all these people in them.”
“Typically, yes.”
She filled him in quickly, but paused when she’d moved onto the interview with Bix—and when Roarke walked to her window, looked out.
As Mira had done.
“I went around about my strategy, purposes, reasonings with Mira, who wasn’t thrilled with me after. Until I laid it out. Do I have to lay it out for you?”
“No. I understand your strategy, purposes, reasonings. I imagine Mira did as well. But it takes a bit to push through and accept them.”
“Roarke, I’m so covered I’m practically wearing a blast-proof body glove.”
“I know it.” He turned back to her. “But it takes a bit. You know, you’re a lean one, darling, but it would take some doing for anyone to throw you out of a window this size.”
She smiled, and because she understood he needed it, leaned into him when he stepped over to brush a hand through her hair.
“But since you’re my lean one, I’ll stick close for the time being. I’ve some things to see to. I’m going to find a place to see to them.”
“I’ve got to write a couple reports, update my board and book. You can use the visitor’s area.”
He looked at the pathetic chair. “Do you actually call this an area?”
“No.”
“I’ll find a space.”
Lilah continued to keep her head down and her ass in the chair when Renee and Bix came back in—and when Renee, her face thunderous, closed herself in her office with him.
Nearly end of shift, she thought. Not much longer now. She considered requesting some personal time and ducking out early. But her lieutenant frowned on such requests, and in her current mood might make an issue of it.
Better just to ride the road.
She said nothing when Manford and Tulis came back from the field, and Tulis dropped files on her desk.
It was, she knew, expected she write up the fives, clean up the report, file it. The lieutenant considered her field men too valuable to sweat over paperwork.
She started in on it, telling herself it would keep her busy, distract her from watching the time. She’d eaten up that time when Renee came out and walked straight to Lilah’s desk.
Though her heart took a tumble, Lilah looked up placidly. “Yes, ma’am?”
“You’re with Bix,” Renee said briskly.
“With Bix, Lieutenant?”
“As I said. We’re short a man, if you’ve forgotten one of your squad went down. Do you have a problem with field work, Detective? I was under the impression you were eager to break away from your desk.”
“Yes, ma’am!” She infused her voice with enthusiasm. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Bix will give you the details en route. You’re cleared for OT, should it be necessary.”
Bix stood, looking at Lilah with his flat-eyed stare. “Let’s get it done.”
This is bullshit, bullshit, Lilah thought as she forced herself up to fall into step with him. She’d left some sort of tell, or one of the others had seen her go in, come out, had given the alert. Or . . .
Didn’t matter how, she thought. She was made.
“Where are we going?”
“One-man cook shop on Avenue D. We’re going to pick up the chef, put some pressure on him, see where it goes.”
Bullshit, bullshit, Lilah thought again.
“Somethin
g you and Garnet were working on? Look, I’m sorry about Garnet. I know the two of you worked pretty close.”
“He knew the score.” Bix stepped into the elevator, and since it was crowded with cops, Lilah got on with him.
She’d be damned if she’d be led like a lamb to the slaughter, and every instinct told her she’d been slated to be put down.
Quickly she replayed every minute she’d spent in Renee’s office, every move made. She’d left everything exactly as it had been. Besides, if there had been something out of order, Renee couldn’t know who ...
Unless she did monitor the squad room, and not just when she was in her office. And if she monitored the squad room, she could have her office on monitor. She could’ve seen everything.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Have you dealt with the chef before?” As she asked Lilah tugged at the neck of her top as if plagued by the heat. It wasn’t much of a stretch.
“Yeah. I’ll handle him. You’re along for ballast.” He cut his gaze down to her when she began to hyperventilate. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Sorry. Claustrophobic. I . . .” She popped off the elevator, shoving cops aside when the doors opened. She’d have run then, but Bix was right beside her. Instead she lowered her head between her knees. “Couldn’t breathe.”
“How the hell did you get on the force?”
She let his disgust roll off her back. All the better if he thought her weak and useless. “Look, I’m a good cop. I just have some trouble with tight spaces. I’ll take the glide down, meet you in the garage.”
“We’ll take the glides.” He curled a hand around her arm, steered her toward a down glide.
Duck into a bathroom, she thought, call for backup. And if he followed her in, he’d have her trapped. She jerked her arm, but his grip only tightened. “Hands off, Bix. I can stand on my own.”
“Probably faint at the sight of blood.”
“Up yours.” Lilah elbowed her way down the glide, trying to put space between them. Bix stuck with her like Velcro.
They’d have to switch to one of the garage elevators soon, she calculated. Or the stairs. Where did he plan to do it? Not in Central. But once he got her out ...
So she wouldn’t let him get her out.
“Hey.” She whirled on him. “Keep your hands off my ass.”
“I never—”
She slapped him, hard enough the crack of flesh on flesh drew as much attention as her shouted protest. “Goddamn asshole!” There were plenty of smirks as she shoved down the glide.
He made a grab for her, might have yanked her back, but a couple of cops—one a female uniform who looked like she could bench-press a maxibus—blocked his way.
She heard the shouts, the curses behind her, glanced back. His eyes were absolutely calm as he bulled his way through and closed the distance she’d gained.
She went with instinct and ran.
She leaped on the next glide, slithering and coiling through other passengers like a snake. Lose him, lose him, find a hole, call for help. Sprint straight out on the next level, she told herself. She’d always been fast.
When another check behind told her so was he, she shifted to push through. She broke clear, took one quick heartbeat to gauge the best direction. The roar behind her came an instant before someone plowed into her, propelled by Bix’s violent forward progress. Lilah threw a hand out to catch herself, but her legs shot from under her.
For one breathless second she watched the dull silver steel of the glide rushing toward her. Her arms came up, an instinctive attempt to shield her face, but her shoulder took the first vicious hit. For an instant the world revolved—ceiling to floor—then it exploded when her head struck the ridged steel.
She went tumbling, tumbling, bonelessly to the unforgiving floor below.
Nearly ready to close it down at Central, Eve snatched at her signaling’link. She’d hoped Peabody, struggled against annoyance when she saw Webster on the display.
“Dallas.”
“Detective Strong just took a header off a down glide between three and four.”
Eve shoved to her feet. “How?”
“Not yet determined, but Bix is being held.”
“He fucking pushed her—in Central?”
“Not yet determined. Conflicting accounts.”
“Is she alive?”
“Unconscious, beat up from the fall. On her way to Angel’s. IAB gets a shot at Bix. Renee’s already running interference. We’ll review the security discs, keep him under wraps for now.”
“Is Strong covered?”
“She was in the bus and away before I got word.”
“I’ll cover her.” Eve slammed out of the office, zeroed in on Baxter. “I want you and Trueheart at Angel’s ten minutes ago. You cover a Detective Lilah Strong who’s being transported there with injuries from a fall. You cover her like skin on bone. No medicals alone with her, no other cops near her. This is a direct order, and I don’t care if God Himself countermands it, you will follow it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go now. I’ll be right behind you.”
As she moved—back into her office to grab the jacket she’d shed while she worked—she tagged Roarke. “Garage. Hurry.” She clicked off, then called in a friend.
“Dallas.” Dr. Louise Dimatto beamed at her. “How—”
Struggling into the jacket, Eve switched her ’link from hand to hand. “I need you at Angel’s Hospital asap. Incoming patient, transported from Central, Detective Lilah Strong. Injuries from a fall.”
“How—”
“I don’t know her condition. I need you to get there, Louise, and to take her. Her life’s on the line. I need you to report as her doctor, and I need you to fix her. I don’t want anyone near her you don’t know and trust with your life. Not another doctor, nurse, orderly, not a bedpan near her you don’t trust. Baxter and Trueheart are on their way there now. No other cops get near her without my clearance. None.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll call ahead, set it up.”
“Thanks.”
She sprinted from floor to glide, from glide to elevator, and across the garage where Roarke waited.
“How fast can you get us to Angel’s Hospital?”
“Very. Strap in.”
21
SIRENS BLASTING, ROARKE WENT AIRBORNE the instant they shot out of the garage. He touched down, punched it to plow through a field of traffic, two-wheeled it at the corner. He skimmed by a couple coats of paint between a cab and a sedate town car, then tore into a hard-line vertical to rocket over the heads of pedestrians clipping across the crosswalk in spite of the screaming sirens and flashing lights.
“Strong’s down,” Eve told him. “I don’t know how bad.”
He simply nodded and ripped a line through the city canyons. When he swerved onto the ER ramp, he said, “Go.”
She was already slapping the release on her safety harness, shoving open the door. She slammed through the ER doors, caught sight of the medicals whisking a gurney around the corner of Admitting with Baxter and Trueheart flanking them like guard dogs.
“Status! What’s her status?”
Blood from the head wounds, the face lacerations soaked Lilah’s clothes. Eve saw the splint support on her right arm, another caging her leg, the brace collaring her neck.
The MTs were spewing out a string of medical terms to a man in scrubs who barely looked old enough to order a brew. He in turn reeled out orders as they shoved the gurney through another set of doors.
He shot another order at Eve. “You have to stay back.”
“Her doctor’s on the way. Louise Dimatto. She’s in charge.”
“Right now I’m in charge.” He counted off to three, and they lifted Lilah’s bloody, broken body, strapped to a stabilizer, from gurney to table.
At the movement, Lilah moaned. Her eyelids flickered. The doctor peeled an eyelid up to examine her pupil while another medical cut away her pants to reveal a
nasty break beneath the splint cage.
Eve managed to slip through, grab and grip Lilah’s hand as the team worked around her. “Report, Detective. Give me a report.”
Lilah’s eyes, blind with shock and pain, rolled open. “What?”
“Detective Strong!” Eve watched the eyes widen, very slightly. “I need your report.”
“Killed me.”
“No, they didn’t. Why did they try?”
“Oberman. Behind Oberman.” The words garbled as Lilah’s fingers moved weakly in Eve’s. “My mother. Tic.”
“I’ll get your mother. I’ll get Tic.”
“Scared.”
Fresh pain jerked her body, shuddered in her eyes. Eve made herself stare straight into them. “I’ve got you covered. I’ve got you, Detective.”
“Oberman.” Eve could feel Lilah fight for the words. “Safe. Bix. Blew it.”
“No, you didn’t. I’ve got it.”
“Mom. Tic.”
“I’ll get them.”
Eve leaned in as Lilah’s eyes rolled closed again, as machines beeped, as the young doctor snapped at her to back off, threatened to call Security.
“You don’t die on me, Detective. That’s a goddamn order.”
Behind her Eve heard Louise’s voice—calm, brisk, full of authority. She stepped back, watched her friend shove her arms into a protective cloak.
“Trueheart, stay with her. Baxter, with me.”
Eve shoved through the doors. “Did she say anything else before I got here?” Eve demanded.
“You were about thirty seconds behind us. She came around for a few seconds when they were off-loading her, but she didn’t say anything I could make out.”
“One or both of you sticks with her, all the way. Nobody gets to her. Nobody touches her unless Louise clears them.”
“Did somebody help her fall down that glide, Dallas?”
“Undetermined, but probable. If there was reason for that, there’s reason to go at her again.”
“They won’t get through us.” His gaze ticked to the door, back to Eve. “She’s one of Oberman’s?”