Creation in Death (In Death #25)(63)

“That’s it,” she repeated. “That’s how it’s going to be?”

“It’s your call on how it’s going to be. You want me off the team, you got cause. You got my notes, and I’ll get you a replacement.”

At that moment she wished he had popped her one instead of handed her these hurtful insults. “Why would you say that to me? Why would you think I’d want you off?”

“In your shoes, I’d think about it. Seriously.”

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit.” She didn’t kick her desk. Instead she kicked the desk chair, sending it careening into the visitor’s chair, then bouncing off to slam against the wall. “And you’re not in my shoes. Stupid son of a bitch.”

His droopy eyes went huge. “What did you say to me?”

“You heard me. You’re too tight-assed, too stubborn, too stupid to put your hurt feelings aside and do the job with me, you’re going to have to get the f**k over it. I can’t afford to lose a key member at this stage of the investigation. You know that. You know that, so don’t come in here and tell me I’ve got cause to boot you.”

“You’re the one who’s going to get a boot, right straight up your ass.”

“You couldn’t take me ten years ago,” she shot back, “you sure as hell can’t take me now.”

“Want to test that out, kid?”

“You want a round, you got one. When this case is closed. And if you’re still carrying that stick up your ass, I’ll yank it out and knock you cold with it. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Her voice broke, just a little, making them both miserable. “You come in here, stiff and snarly, and won’t even let me apologize. You start spouting off, won’t even let me apologize for f**king up.”

“You didn’t, goddamn it. I f**ked up.”

“Great. Fine. We’re a couple of f**kups.”

He sank down in the chair as if the wind had gone out of him. “Maybe we are, but I got more years at it than you.”

“Now you want to pull rank on f**kup status? Great. Fine,” she repeated. “You get the salute. Feel better?”

“No, I don’t feel any goddamn better.” He let out a tired sigh that smothered the leading edge of her temper.

“What do you want, Feeney? What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to listen. I let it eat at me. This one got away from me and I let it eat at me. Taught you, didn’t I, that you can’t get them all, and you can’t beat yourself up when you can’t put the pieces together, not when you gave it your best.”

“Yeah, you taught me.”

“Didn’t listen to myself this time. And that bile just kept rising up out of my belly into my throat over it.” His lips tightened as he shook his head. “You find a fresh angle, and instead of jumping on that, grabbing hold and pushing on that, I jump on you. Part of me’s thinking, ‘Did I miss that? Did I miss that before, and did all those women die hard because I did?’”

“You know better than that, Feeney. And yeah, I get knowing better isn’t always enough. How good was I nine years ago?”

“Needed seasoning.”

“That wasn’t the question. How good was I?”

He drank again, then looked up at her. “You were the best I ever worked with, even then.”

“And I worked that case with you, minute by minute, step by step. We didn’t miss it, Feeney. It wasn’t there. The evidence, the statements, the pattern. If he got them that way, or some of them that way, the evidence wasn’t there to show us.”

“I spent a lot of time yesterday going over the files. I know what you’re saying. What I’m saying is that’s the reason I jumped on you.”

He thought of what his wife had said the night before. That he’d railed at Dallas because she was his family. That she’d let him rail because he was her family. Nobody, according to his Sheila, beat each other up as regularly or as thoughtlessly as family.

“Didn’t like you telling me I needed a break either,” he muttered. “Basically telling me I needed a damn nap, like somebody’s grandfather.”

“You are somebody’s grandfather.”

His eyes flashed at her, but there was some amusement in the heat. “Watch your step, kid.”

“I should’ve run the new angle by you before the briefing. No, I should have,” she insisted when he shook his head. “Like you should’ve known I would have if everything hadn’t been moving so fast. There’s nobody on the job, nobody with a badge I respect more than you.”

It took him a moment to clear his throat. “Same goes. I got one more thing, then this is closed.” He rose again. “I didn’t put you here. You never were a rookie,” he told her in a voice roughened with emotion. “So I saw good, solid cop the minute I laid eyes on you. I gave you a hell of a foundation, kid, a lot of seasoning and pushed you hard because I knew you could take it. But I didn’t put you here, and saying that, well, that was stupid. You put yourself here. And I’m proud. So that’s it.”

She only nodded. Neither of them would handle it well if she blubbered.

As he went out, he gave her two awkward pats on the shoulder, then closed the door behind him.