Treachery in Death (15 page)

She frowned as her ’link signaled another incoming. “Oh, look here. It’s Renee sweetie. Stay on, Feeney, answering as conference trans, blind incoming to current contact.

“Dallas,” she answered with an edge of impatience.

“Lieutenant.” Renee gave her a sober look through the screen. “I understand I’m not your favorite person at the moment.”

“You hit down the list.”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, and that was just exacerbated by what transpired in my office today. I’m hoping we can come to terms, find a middle ground. I’d like to buy you a drink, to apologize, and to talk this out. Lieutenant to lieutenant.”

“I’m working a case, Oberman.”

“We’re both busy women. This friction between us is disruptive. I’m trying to reach out, Dallas, so we can smooth this over and both do our jobs.”

Eve leaned back as if considering. “You want to buy me a drink? Fine. O’Riley’s Pub, Upper West on Seventh. In an hour.”

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you there.”

“It could be a setup,” Peabody said immediately after Renee clicked off. “She could have Bix or another of her gorillas lie in wait for you.”

“She can’t afford to take me out now. Not when we’re having this ‘friction.’ When everybody at Central’s talking about us butting heads. Shines another light, and she wants to dim them.”

“She could let Garnet know where you’ll be and when,” Feeney put in. “Stir him up so he goes at you. It all falls on him.”

“If it fell he’d start talking, and she knows it.”

“He can’t talk if she takes him out. He goes for you, takes you out or at least puts you down. And she rides to the rescue, has to take out one of her own officers in your defense. It’d be a good play.”

Eve had to agree. “Yeah, but I don’t think she’s as smart as you, Feeney, or has time to set it up. She’s not desperate yet. She’s pissed off and she’s off balance.”

“I’m going with you,” Peabody insisted. “I’ll back you up.”

“Peabody, she’s researched me, so she knows who you are, knows you’re my partner. If she spots you, this could fall apart.”

“I’ll do it.” Webster glanced at his wrist unit. “She doesn’t know me—and in any case, IAB’s good at blending. She won’t make me.”

“She’s not going to try for me. It’s not her play, not now.”

“Regardless, I’m backup.”

“Backup for what?” Roarke asked as he came in.

“For nothing I need it for. I’m having a drink with Renee, at her request. I told her O’Riley’s, in an hour. I heated things up some today, and she wants to cool them down.”

“She’s already killed—or had two cops killed,” Webster told him. “That we know of. Sometimes you know what you can’t yet prove,” he said before Eve could speak. “I’m going to back her up. I’ve got soft clothes in my vehicle,” he told Eve. “She won’t make me.”

“I’ll be backing the lieutenant up,” Roarke said. “Or I should say Webster and I will.”

“She knows Dallas,” Webster pointed out, “so she sure as hell knows you and that you’re married. She won’t talk with you around.”

“She won’t see me, will she? Tell Webster why you selected O’Riley’s.”

“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.

“Dallas.”

“Hi. I was hoping we could make good on that drink.”

“Actually, right now ... would be good,” she decided. “Or say in thirty? O’Riley’s Pub,” Eve said, and gave Darcia the address. “Can you get here?”

“I’m loving getting around in New York.”

“Great. Listen, I’m actually walking into the place now. I have a meet—another cop. You could do me a favor.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t come over to the table unless I signal you. If I don’t, I’ve still got to work it a little. When I do, you could stroll on over. Like you’ve just come in and spotted me—but we had a meet set.”

“No problem. Are you going to tell me why?”

“One of these days.”

“All right then, half an hour.”

“Chief Angelo?” The title made Darcia smile. “You’re easier to work with than I remember.”

“But I’m not working, am I?”

Eve tucked her ’link away and strolled into O’Riley’s.

Fiddle music piped out of the speakers, a backdrop to conversations among the grab-a-drink-after-work crowd. In a few hours, she knew, musicians would settle into one of the booths with their instruments, pints at the ready, and fill the place with bright reels and sad songs. The bartenders would hustle, pulling pints, pouring glasses for the crowd that invariably packed in.

The little redhead waved to her, gestured to a table for two. Eve remembered her from when she’d joined Roarke and a couple of his out-of-town business associates who’d wanted a taste of an Irish pub, New York style.

“Get you a drink, Lieutenant?” the redhead asked, and balanced her tray on her hip.

“Not yet, thanks.”

“Just give me a sign when you’re ready.”

Eve sat down, back to the wall, scanned the customers. Coworkers winding down, some tourists, a guy doing his best to hit on a couple of twenty-somethings who were stringing him along.

Cop didn’t blip on her radar.

And Renee came in.

She’d changed from her power suit into a little black number that showcased her body, left toned arms bare. She’d paired it with hot red heels so her toes, painted the same color, could play peekaboo, and left her rain of blond loose. The complex series of sparkling links around her neck held a round red pendant.

She did her own scan, Eve noted, a slow sweep with eyes expertly shadowed and smudged. Then sent Eve a friendly smile as she walked toward the table.

She likes knowing she’s caught attention, Eve thought, that men are checking her out and women are wondering who she is.

“Thanks for meeting me.” Renee slid onto her chair. “I hope I’m not late.”

“No.”

“Do you come here a lot? It looks like a nice, friendly place. Unpretentious. A working man’s bar.”

Eve wondered what the reaction might have been if she’d set the meet at the Down and Dirty. “Now and then,” she said, and caught the waitress’s eye. “Nice outfit,” she commented. “You didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“Actually I’m meeting my parents for dinner later. Have you—”

She broke off as the redhead came to the table. “What can I get you, ladies?”

“Pepsi, on ice,” Eve told her.

“Oh, come on, Dallas, live a little.” With a bright, beaming smile, Renee tossed back her hair. “We’re off duty, aren’t we? And I’m buying.”

“Pepsi,” Eve repeated, “on ice.”

“Well, I’m off duty. I’ll have a vodka martini, straight up, two olives.”

“I’ll get those right to you.” The waitress set a snack bowl of pretzels on the table, then went to put the order in.

“I was going to ask if you’d ever met my father.”

“Not formally, no.”

“I’ll have to introduce you sometime. I’m sure you’d enjoy each other.” Renee took a pretzel from the bowl, broke it in half, nibbled. “We should have dinner. You, your husband, my father and I. Roarke’s certainly a man I’d like to meet.”

“Why?”

“Like my father, he has a strong reputation, and it would seem, a gift for command. He’d have to, to have reached his level of success. It must be fascinating, being married to a man who commands that much power, with so many varied . . . interests. I heard you vacationed in Europe this summer.”

“You want to talk about my summer vacation?”

“I don’t see any reason you and I can’t be friendly, do you?”

“Do you want a list?”

Renee sighed, sat back, and continued to nibble on the tiny piece of pretzel. “We really did get off on the wrong foot, and I’m willing to take responsibility for a great deal of that. I was upset about Keener, and I admit, territorial. So we butted heads when it would’ve been more efficient, and certainly more productive, to work in tandem.”

She paused again when the waitress returned with their drinks. “Anything else I can get you for now?”

“We’re good,” Eve told her. “Thanks.”

Renee lifted her glass. “Why don’t we drink to a fresh start?”

Eve left her glass where it was. “Why don’t you define fresh start?”

In the snug, Webster watched the exchange. “She’s chapping Renee’s ass.”

“She’s good at it,” Roarke agreed. “She’ll wind her up. The more Eve rejects the overtures, the more Renee will push.”

“It’s a good play. Garnet’s hammering her on one side, Dallas is blocking her on the other. You know Dallas is trying to get Renee to come at her—to set Bix on her.”

“I know my wife very well.”

The faint emphasis on
my wife
had Webster shoving his hands in his pockets. “I thought you and I were settled.”

“It’s hard to resist giving you the needle now and again. See the body language there,” Roarke pointed out. “Eve, slouched, kicked back. Disinterested. Renee tipped forward a bit. Working hard to engage. But her foot taps under the table—hard rhythm. She’s angry.”

Roarke glanced over, smiled at Webster. “Fancy a beer?”

“Yeah, but until this is done, I’m on. You go ahead.”

“Ah well, we’ll wait on it.”

At the table, Renee sipped her martini. “I’m apologizing for not giving you my full cooperation over Keener. He’d been my CI for a long time, and though I didn’t use him often in the last few years, we had a history. I felt, right from the start, you were shutting me out. I reacted to that. You and I have different styles, Dallas, obviously. And they’ve clashed. I’d like to put that behind us.”