“Sir, the investigation came into my hands yesterday morning. Sunday morning, sir, when both of us were off duty.”
He acknowledged that with a slight dip of his head. “Yet you took charge of this matter while off duty, utilizing departmental personnel, and equipment, neglecting to inform your superior.”
No point in bullshit, she decided. “Yes, sir, I did. I believed the circumstances warranted my actions, and am fully prepared to report said circumstances and actions at this time.”
He lifted a hand. “In the ‘better-late-than-never’ category?”
“No, sir. In the ‘immediate-need-to-secure-the-scene-and-gather-evidence’ category. Respectfully, Commander.”
“The victim was known to you.”
“She was. I haven’t seen or had contact with the victim for over twenty years until two days before her death, when she came to my office.”
“You’re entering a boggy area, Dallas.”
“I don’t believe so, sir. I knew the victim briefly when I was a child. Therefore—”
“You were under her care for several months when you were a child,” he corrected.
Okay, she thought, screw it. “The term ‘care’ is inaccurate, as she gave none. I would have passed her on the street without recognizing her. There would have been no further contact between us after her visit to me this past Thursday if she had not gone to my husband’s office the following day and attempted to shake him down for two million dollars.”
His eyebrows winged up. “And this is not boggy territory?”
“He showed her the door. Captain Feeney has the security discs from Roarke’s office, was requested to retrieve them by Roarke in order to aid this investigation. She left the same way she came in.”
“Sit down, Dallas.”
“Sir, I’d do better standing. I went to her hotel room Sunday morning as I felt it necessary to speak with her, to make it clear that she would not blackmail or extort funds from Roarke or myself. That neither of us were concerned regarding her threat to go to the media or the authorities with copies she claimed to have of my sealed files. At that time—”
“Did she have copies?”
“Very likely. None were found at the scene, though a disc holder was recovered. The probability is high that whoever killed her now has possession of them.”
“Dr. Mira has spoken to me. She came to see me this morning, as you should have done.”
“Yes, sir.”
“She believes that you’re capable of handling this investigation, and further that it’s in your best interest to do so.” His chair creaked as he shifted his weight. “I’ve also just spoken with the ME, so I’m not completely in the dark regarding this case. Before you give me your report, I want to know why you didn’t come to me. I want it straight, Dallas.”
“I felt I would be in a better position to continue as primary if the investigation was ongoing. My objectivity on the matter would be less likely called into question.”
He said nothing for a long moment. “You could have come to me. Report.”
He’d shaken her, and she had to struggle not to fumble, to take him through clearly from her first contact with the victim to the data Peabody had just given her.
“She self-inflicted in order to bolster her plan for blackmail. Would that be your opinion?”
“It would, given the ME’s findings and the current evidence.”
“Her partner or accomplice kills her, abducts the daughter-in-law, and through her continues the demand for money, using the threat of exposure of your sealed files.”
“I don’t believe the killer would be aware that both Roarke and I were in the company of the chief of police and security, and yourself, sir, when the murder took place. It’s possible implicating one or both of us is part of the plan at this point.”
“It was a good party.” He smiled a little. “The numbered account is being traced?”
“Captain Feeney is taking that. With permission, I’d like Roarke to assist in that area.”
“I’m surprised he isn’t already.”
“I haven’t brought him fully up to date. It’s been a busy morning, Commander.”
“It’s going to get busier. It’d be a mistake to keep your connection to the victim undercover. It’ll come out. Better if you bring it out. Use Nadine.”
Eve thought of her media connection. She’d hoped for more breathing room there, but he was right. Get it done, get it out. Get it spun. “I’ll contact her right away.”
“And the media liaison. Keep me informed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
She started toward the door, stopped, and turned back. “Commander Whitney, I apologize for keeping you out of the loop. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t.”
She walked out unsure if she’d been given a supportive pat on the back or a rap across the knuckles. Probably both, she decided, as she headed back to Homicide.
Peabody popped up from her desk in the bullpen the minute Eve strode in, and trotted behind her into her office.
“I have the data you requested, Lieutenant, and my report.”
“Good. I don’t have coffee.”
“That abhorrent oversight will be corrected immediately, sir.”
“If you’re going to lick my boots, Peabody, try to be subtle about it.”
“Was my tongue hanging out that far? I deserved the slap—I won’t say it wasn’t worth it, but I deserved it. McNab and I cleared the air, and straightened stuff out. He thought I was dumping him. Stupid idiot.”
It was said with such affection, almost sung, that Eve just dropped her head in her hands. “If you want to wiggle out of another kick in the ass, spare me the details.”
“Sorry. Coffee, sir, just the way you like it. Would you like me to get you something from vending? My treat.”
Eve lifted her head, slanted her eyes over toward Peabody. “Just how long were the two of you banging? No, no, I don’t want to know. Just get me whatever, then contact Nadine. Tell her I need a meet.”
“On that.”
As Peabody scooted out, Eve tried Roarke on his personal ‘link. She dragged a hand through her hair as she was transferred to voice mail.
“Sorry to bump into your day. There are some complications. Get back to me when you get the chance.”
She shrugged her shoulders, hissed, then contacted the dreaded media liaison. With that duty done, she plugged in Peabody’s data disc, began the scan as her partner came back.
“I got you a Go Bar, tide you over. Nadine’s up for a meet—in fact, she said she had stuff to talk to you about, and wanted lunch.”
“Lunch? Why can’t she just come here?”
“She’s juiced about something, Dallas. Wants you to meet her at Scentsational , at noon.”
“Where?”
“Oh, it’s a real hot spot. She must be able to pull fat strings to get a reservation. I’ve got the address. She asked me to come, too, so…”
“Sure, sure. Why the hell not. Just us freaking girls.”
Chapter 11
THOUGH THE SWEEPER’S REPORT ON HIDEY HOLE told her the locks and security had been tampered with, Eve went to the scene herself and met with the owner.
His name was Roy Chancey, and he was just as pissed to be hauled out of bed as he was with the break-in.
“Probably kids. Mostly is.” He scratched the paunch of his belly, yawned, and gave her a good whiff of breath that had yet to be refreshed.
“No, it wasn’t kids. Give me your whereabouts between seven and nine this morning.”
“In my Christing bed, where d’ya think? Don’t close ‘til three. Time I get locked up and hit the sheets, it’s damn near four. I sleep days. Nothing out there but sun and traffic days anyway.”
“You live upstairs.”
“ ‘S’right. Got a dance studio second floor, apartments on three and four.”
“Alone? You live alone, Chancey?”
“ ‘S’right. Look, why’d I wanna break into my own place?”
“Good question. Do you know this woman?” She showed him Trudy’s ID photo.