Betrayal in Death (In Death #12)(61)

"Let me know if anything clicks," she ordered, then moved to the doorway, through. She gave a come-with-me signal to Eve. And was ignored.

"He packed his bags," Eve continued, "tucked in whatever he felt most necessary, went through his data discs, his files. Wouldn't take a lot of time if you're as anal and organized as he is. He'd have a notebook, a portable, a number of nice, convenient, travel-sized units. They'd have gone with him, too. All in all, I'd say he was out the door in thirty minutes, on the outside, after his source tipped him about your operation."

"I don't want to discuss this here."

"Too bad. My team ran him down while yours was racing in circles. You wouldn't be standing this close to him if it hadn't been for the work my team put into this."

"If you'd cooperated -- "

"Like you did?" Eve shot back. "Yeah, you're full of cooperation. Who'd you pay off to get the information on my warrant? What favors did you call in to get yours bumped in front of it so you could screw this up?"

"Federal takes precedence."

"Bullshit, Stowe. Justice takes precedence, and if I'd gotten my warrant in a timely fashion Sylvester Yost would be in a cage now instead of setting up shop somewhere else."

She knew it. Goddamn it, she knew it. "You can't be sure of that."

"I can be sure of one thing, and so can you: He's gone. You f**ked up and he's gone. How's that going to sit with you when we stand over the next body?"

Stowe closed her eyes a moment, drew in a breath. "Can we go somewhere private and discuss -- "

"No."

"Fine." On a snap of temper, Stowe pulled the door closed so the agents inside were deprived of the gossip. "Look, you're steamed, and you've got a right to be. But I did my job. Jacoby came to me with the data on the warrant, and he'd already done the dance. I had a chance to bring Yost down, to bring him in, and I took it. You'd have done the same."

"You don't know me, pal. I don't play games and I don't try to rack up points on someone else's work. You wanted a big bust, and you didn't care how you got it. Now we're both empty, and odds are someone else is going to die."

Eve paused, seeing the quick wince in Stowe's eyes. "Yeah, you've figured that much out, haven't you? As much as I'll enjoy seeing you and your partner's butts fry over this foul up, it doesn't make up for another hit. Nothing does."

"All right," Stowe said as Eve turned away. She reached out, grabbed Eve's arm. Her voice was low, her eyes miserable. "You're right. You're right, straight down the line."

"Being right doesn't mean shit just now, does it? Keep away from me, Stowe. You and that moron you work with keep away from me, my team, and my investigation. Otherwise, neither of you will have enough ass left to fry when I'm finished with you."

She strode, out, heading for the door. Before she could pass through, Jacoby stepped in front of her. "Did you have that recorder on?" he demanded.

"Get out of my way."

"You aren't authorized to record this scene," he began and made a grab for her lapel unit. Fast and vicious as a snake, she snatched his wrist, pushing her thumb into the pulse point and twisting.

"Keep your hand off me. You don't, I'll snap it off at the wrist and make you eat it."

Pain radiated up his arm, paralyzing him. But his other hand bunched into a fist, lifted. "You're assaulting and threatening a federal officer."

"Funny, I thought I was assaulting and threatening a federal ass**le. You want to take a shot at me, Jacoby" -- she tilted her chin up in invitation -- "go ahead, right here in front of all your friends and associates. Let's see which one of us walks out on two feet."

"Lieutenant."

"Sir." She acknowledged Whitney, but kept her eyes on Jacoby's. His were starting to water.

"Your presence is required at Central to finalize the formal complaint against Agents Jacoby and Stowe. Let that idiot go," he said mildly. "He's not worth it."

"Affirmative," Eve murmured, then released Jacoby's wrist and stepped back.

Perhaps it was embarrassment, or perhaps he was simply a moron. But he lunged at her. She didn't think; she didn't hesitate. With a half-pivot, she shot her elbow up, caught him just under the chin. She heard his teeth snap together an instant before he went down.

She had a moment to hope he'd bitten off a chunk of his tongue before he scrambled to his feet, eyes dazed. She finished the pivot, planted her feet. And supposed it was probably for the best when Whitney stepped between them.

"I'm filing charges." Blood trickled out of Jacoby's mouth as he fumbled for his communicator.

"I wouldn't advise that, Agent. You came at my officer, a violent action, when her back was turned. She defended herself. That's on record." With a fierce grin, he patted his own lapel recorder. "Make that call and I'll have you up before your own disciplinary committee before your tongue stops bleeding. You're not just taking on my officer, you're taking me on, and my whole goddamn department. So back off before I see that what's left of your career is flushed down the toilet."

He held Jacoby's eyes another testing moment, signaled to Eve to go, then followed.