Delusion in Death (In Death #35)(51)



“If you refuse the assistance, I’ll back your decision. If you accept, I’ll make certain the terms remain as agreed upon.”

“Then she’s in. I’ll want to inform my team of the addition and the agreement. I need to get back to it.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Eve went to the door, opened it. “Briefing at eighteen hundred, conference room one, Homicide Division.”

Teasdale inclined her head. “Thank you. I’ll be there.”

“Screw it up, you’re gone. No second chances for feds.”

Teasdale smiled again. “I’ve never needed a second chance.”

“Let’s hope you keep your record going,” Eve said briskly, and walked away.

10

Eve strode into her bullpen and the wall of noise from voices, comps, ’links. A quick scan showed her Detectives Sanchez and Carmichael were among the missing. They’d be out in the field, she assumed, scrambling to handle the cases dumped on them as she’d formed her team.

Before long, she calculated, they’d have more than they could handle. She’d need to consider pulling in from other divisions, other precincts.

“Listen up! We’re taking on a consultant from HSO.”

She let the objections, bitching, disgust roll over her. She didn’t blame her men as she’d had the same reaction herself.

“It remains our case, our investigation. Agent Teasdale is a domestic terrorist specialist, and she has qualifications I believe we can use. This is my call, so suck it up.”

She waited a beat. “If, at any time, any of you have a problem—a legitimate problem with Teasdale, come to me. If it’s a problem, I’ll kick her ass. If it’s bullshit, I’ll kick yours.”

“You know how the feds work, LT.” Jenkinson brooded at his desk. “Let us do all the legwork, put in the hours, bust down the doors, then come in and take it over when we’ve got it plated up like dinner.”

“If they get greedy, they have to get through me, then Whitney, then Tibble. As for this team? Over a hundred and twenty people are dead, so there will be no petty power plays, no whining and griping. Have your reports ready for the briefing.”

She walked out again, paused briefly when she was out of sight. She listened to the whining and griping. Let them get it out of their system, she decided, and headed to the conference room.

She expected to find Peabody, and came up short when she found Roarke working with her partner. She hadn’t expected to deal with this, with him, quite so soon.

Marriage, she thought. Every bit as complicated and slippery as cop work.

“Another difficult day.” He looked at her as he spoke, carefully.

The man, she knew, saw damn near everything.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t be of much use just now in EDD, so when you weren’t in your office, I offered Peabody a hand. A lot of faces to go up, again.”

“Too many. Peabody, take a break.”

“We’re almost—oh,” she said when she caught the look. “I’ll go check, see if we’ve got anything new in from the lab.”

Roarke waited until Peabody went out and discreetly shut the door.

“What is it?”

“You’re not going to like what I have to tell you. It wasn’t an easy call to make, but it was my call. And it’s the right one—for them.” She nodded toward the boards.

“What call would that be?”

“We’re taking on an agent for HSO as a consultant.”

His eyes went cool, very cool before he turned and walked to the AutoChef. Though he performed the everyday task of programming coffee, Eve knew when he walked away his anger was fierce.

“If we’re going to fight about it, we have to fight later. There’s no time now. But I need to tell you … Roarke, I need to tell you I know what you did for me last year when you stepped back from taking retribution against the people in HSO who listened and did nothing while my—while Richard Troy beat and raped me. I know what it cost you to do that. I know you did it for me. You put me first. You put us first. I don’t forget it. I won’t ever forget it.”

“And yet,” he said softly.

“I can’t put me, or us, ahead of them, all those faces. I can’t, I just won’t, let what happened to me years ago determine how I do my job, for them. It’s already caused us both too much grief and pain. It has to stop. Maybe you’d have made a different call, but—”

“Yes, because I think more of you than you do.”

She couldn’t fight it, couldn’t find the fight, only the heart he filled with those simple words. “No one’s ever thought of me the way you do. I don’t forget that either. And I knew when I made the decision it would upset you. You have every right and reason to be upset. I’m sorry.”

He set aside the coffee he didn’t want. “And yet,” he repeated.

“Her name is Teasdale. Miyu Teasdale. She’s a domestic terrorist specialist, nine years in. She has advanced degrees in chemistry and biology. She’ll be reporting only to Director Hurtz. Tibble knows him, personally, vouches for him. You look at them. Dig into them, use any means you want. I don’t need to know. After you do, if you find they aren’t as clean as Tibble and Whitney say, if you find anything that causes you to doubt I did the right thing, I’ll break it off. I’ll find a way.”

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