Treachery in Death (In Death #32)(104)

“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.

“Something 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 ass**le!” There were plenty of smirks as she shoved down the glide.