Treachery in Death (In Death #32)(62)

“Because it’s close, and because he owns it.”

“There’s a snug behind the bar. A room,” Roarke explained. “We can monitor them from there.”

“I’m already monitored.” Eve tapped her chest. “You put the damn thing on me this morning.”

“So I did,” Roarke agreed. “And very pleasant duty it was. We’ll be monitoring from on site. Would you still like to change, Detective?”

“Yeah. In case I need to go out of the back room for any reason.”

“Summerset can show you a room for that then.”

“I’ll get on that.”

“This is over the top,” Eve insisted when Webster walked out.

“She’s a cop killer. You’re a cop.” Roarke tapped her chin. “You’re my cop.”

“If you’re going to get squishy, I’m closing off,” Feeney said. “We’ll have you covered from here, Dallas.”

“I’m going to be so covered I might as well be smothered.”

“I feel better,” Peabody commented.

“Oh well, then it’s all worth it.”

“While you’re having your drink, I’m going to ask McNab to come in, work this with me from this point.”

Still miffed, Eve shrugged.

“You can drive me over,” Roarke said. “When you’re in and clear, I’ll take Webster in through the back of the snug. And on the way, we can fill each other in on how we spent our days.”

You might as well ride with us,” Eve said to Webster.

“Actually, I’ll need to take off after the meet—if we’re clear. I have a life outside the job, Dallas,” he added when she frowned at him. “And I’m going to get back to it once we’re clear of the meet.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

Roarke slid into the passenger seat. “So, what have you done today that persuades Renee she needs to buy you a drink?”

“I maneuvered Garnet into a thirty-day rip, which didn’t take much—and to do the mouthing off in her office, in front of her face. So that makes her look bad—like she can’t control her men.”

“That must’ve been satisfying.”

“Oh, yeah. Among other things I did today, I went to the Bronx.”

She filled him in on the conversation with Allo as she drove.

“You gave Peabody that angle of the investigation because of her experience in the locker room.”

“Partly. She’s good with the tiny details, and I want the answers on Devin but don’t have time right now to dig in. Not the way Devin deserves. And if Peabody’s able to gather the evidence that points to Renee, or her command, on that officer, it’s going to outweigh that locker room experience. It’s not payback. It’s justice. She’ll have helped get justice for another cop, and it’ll matter a lot to her.”

“Which shows, my darling Eve, the difference between a strong, intelligent, and—though you won’t like the word—sensitive leader and one who aims to lead only for gain.”

She’d have preferred intuitive to sensitive, but let it go.

“How did everybody miss it, Roarke? Start with her father—but I guess there are times a father doesn’t see or has to pretend he doesn’t. Her trainer. I looked at him. Sterling record, trained good cops. It feels to me like her father had a hand in picking him for her—they were partners for eight years—about the same age. Mira missed it, Whitney missed it, her captain, her previous LTs. She slid right through.”

“She wasn’t always dirty.”

“Fuck she wasn’t,” Eve said with some force. “She may not have started her ‘business’ until a few years ago, but she was always dirty. Some cops who work under her, she gives them a buzz, and at least two of them end up dead.

“You know why she didn’t get between me and Garnet today—and that’s just what she should have done, clean or dirty. Why she didn’t move to control him quick enough? Because having him go at me gave her a nice little tingle. She liked it, and I’m damn sure she would have loved it if he’d beat me bloody in front of her. She’s got the brains to know she can’t have that, had to maintain, but she’s got the belly for it. I screwed up her orderly pile, so she’d love to watch me bleed.”

“And you didn’t want backup?”

“She’d love it,” Eve told him, “but she can’t afford it. Not yet.”

She found a spot a block from the pub, snagged it. “Since Webster’s got a life, you’ll need to wait for him to find a spot, walk him in.”

“I’ll be walking my wife in first—or at least to the point where I can watch her go in. They’ve got a corner table ready for you.”

“Did you put muscle in there?”

“Darling.” He tapped her chin. “I always have muscle in there. It’s an Irish pub, after all.”

Her ’link signaled again. “It’s Darcia. You can watch me from here—and I’ll be talking to another cop while I walk half a block. I think I’m covered if some bad guy jumps out, and I faint from fear.”

He had to grin at her as he watched her walk away.