Naked in Death (In Death, #1)(81)

"I believe you. I'll help you. Tell me – " She swore as the transmission broke. "Where?" she demanded after switching to dispatch.

"Front Royal, Virginia. Number seven oh three, five five five, thirty-nine oh eight. Address – "

"I don't need it. Get me Captain Ryan Feeney in EDD. Fast."

Two minutes wasn't fast enough. Eve nearly drilled a hole in her temple rubbing it while she waited. "Feeney, I've got something, and it's big."

"What?"

"I can't go into it yet, but I need you to go pick up Charles Monroe."

"Christ, Eve, have we got him?"

"Not yet. Monroe's going to take you to Sharon's other safe box. You take good care of him, Feeney. We're going to need him. And you take damn good care of whatever you find in the box."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"I've got to catch a plane." She broke transmission, then called Roarke. It took another three minutes of very precious time before he came on-line.

"I was about to call you, Eve. It looks like I have to fly to Dublin. Care to join me?"

"Roarke, I need your plane. Now. I have to get to Virginia fast. If I go through channels or take public transport – "

"The plane will be ready for you. Terminal C, Gate 22."

She closed her eyes. "Thanks. I owe you."

Her gratitude lasted until she arrived at the gate and found Roarke waiting for her.

"I don't have time to talk." Her voice was a snap, her long legs eating up the distance from gate to lift.

"We'll talk on the plane."

"You're not going with me. This is official – "

"This is my plane, lieutenant," he interrupted smoothly as the lift closed them in together, gliding silently up.

"Can't you do anything without strings?"

"Yes. This isn't one of them." The hatch opened. The flight attendant waited efficiently.

"Welcome aboard, sir, lieutenant. Can I offer you refreshments?"

"No, thank you. Have the pilot take off as soon as we're cleared." Roarke took his seat while Eve stood fuming. "We can't take off until you're seated and secured."

"I thought you were going to Ireland." She could argue with him just as easily sitting down.

"It's not a priority. This is. Eve, before you state your case, I'll outline mine. You're going to Virginia in quite a rush. That points to the DeBlass case and some new information. Beth and Richard are friends, close friends. I don't have many close friends, nor do you. Reverse situations. What would you do?"

She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair as the plane began to taxi. "This can't be personal."

"Not for you. For me, it's very personal. Beth contacted me even as I was arranging for the plane to be readied. She asked me to come."

"Why?"

"She wouldn't say. She didn't have to – she only had to ask."

Loyalty was a trait Eve had a difficult time arguing against. "I can't stop you from going, but I'm warning you, this is department business."

"And the department is in upheaval this morning," he said evenly, "because of certain information leaked to the media – by an unnamed source."

She hissed out a breath. Nothing like backing yourself into a corner. "I'm grateful for your help."

"Enough to tell me the outcome?"

"I imagine the cap will be off by the end of the day." She moved her shoulders restlessly, staring out the window, willing the miles away. "Simpson's going to try to ditch the whole business on his accounting firm. I can't see him pulling it off. The IRS'll get him for tax fraud. I imagine the internal investigation will uncover where he got the money. Considering Simpson's imagination, I'd bet on the standard kickbacks, bribes, and graft."

"And the blackmail?"

"Oh, he was paying her. He admitted as much before his lawyer shut him up. And he'll cop to it, once he realizes paying blackmail's a lot less dicey than accessory to murder."

She took out her communicator, requested Feeney's access.

"Yo, Dallas."

"Did you get them?"

Feeney held a small box up so that she could see it in the tiny viewing screen. "All labeled and dated. About twenty years' worth."

"Start with the last entry, work back. I should hit destination in about twenty minutes. I'll contact you as soon as I can for a status report."

"Hey, Lieutenant Sugar." Charles edged his way on-screen and beamed at her. "How'd I do?"

"You did good. Thanks. Now, until I say different, forget about the safe box, the diaries, everything."

"What diaries?" he said with a wink. He blew her a kiss before Feeney elbowed him aside.

"I'm heading back to Cop Central now. Stay in touch."

"Out." Eve switched off, slipped the communicator back in her pocket.

Roarke waited a beat. "Lieutenant Sugar?"

"Shut up, Roarke." She closed her eyes to ignore him, but couldn't quite wipe the smirk off her face.

When they landed, she was forced to admit that Roarke's name worked even faster than a badge. In minutes they were in a powerful rental car and eating up the miles to Front Royal. She might have objected about being delegated to the passenger seat, but she couldn't fault his driving.