"Is she less a cop than you?"
"That's not the point. That's not the fucking point." She whirled back. "I took her and six other cops in there. I made the call, I set the op. I dodged out of the way when Geller threw the scissors at me."
Because her eyes were swimming, her voice beginning to hitch, he took her shoulders. "And Peabody didn't move as quickly. Is that your fault?"
"It's not about fault. It's about reason. I took her in, took all of them in to secure and transport to medical a woman who's probably going to die anyway. I ordered those people to put their lives on the line for her. A woman who sells little girls. Boy, that's irony for you. I've got Peabody's blood on my hands because of a woman who sells children for sex."
She gripped his shirt, fisted her hands. "For what?" she demanded. "What's the damn point?"
"Lieutenant."
She jerked at McNab's voice, turned quickly.
He'd never seen her cry before. Hadn't known she could. "She's awake. You were right, they're going to spring her. They want to keep her about an hour first. She's still a little groggy. She asked if you were around."
"I'll go in and see her."
"Dallas." McNab moved into her path, took her by the arm. "If you ask her what the point is, she'd tell you. You haven't asked me, but I'll tell you anyway. Because when something has to be done, we're the ones who're supposed to do it. I didn't have to be there to know you went through the door first. So you already know what the point is."
"Maybe I needed somebody to remind me."
Roarke watched her walk back inside. "You're a good man, Ian." He laid a hand on McNab's shoulders. "Let's go buy Peabody some flowers."
"I usually just steal them."
"Let's make an exception for this one."
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Whitney took Eve's report orally, in his office. She was in her shirtsleeves, and the shirt carried a small stain of dried blood.
"Has Peabody been released from the health center?"
"They were preparing to sign her out when I left. She'll need to take a couple days' medical leave."
"See that she has what she needs. Dwier and Price are in custody, and will be held incommunicado until the situation is resolved. We have the location in Albany under surveillance. When you've cleaned up here, Donald Dukes will be taken. We agree that he shouldn't be arrested until after your raid on tonight's meeting?"
"Yes, sir. Dwier and Price were just soldiers. Dukes is one of the generals." The commandant, Eve remembered. "It's probable he remains in contact with other key members of the organization. We let him sit until we've broken its back. Sir, as Dwier has further implicated Mayor Peachtree, I request permission for formal questioning."
"The mayor has agreed to temporary house arrest. His incoming and outgoing transmissions are being monitored. Under advice of counsel he's admitted to the sexual… transgression, but continues to deny any association with Purity. Politically, he's finished."
"Politically," Eve began.
"Yes. That's not enough. I won't disagree. However, this evening's op takes priority over questioning him. We'll bag most if not all the other members in this sweep, essentially destroying this organization. That's the first order of business."
"When the mayor's office is a front for terrorists, that's an important piece of business, Commander."
"And will it make a difference to closing this case if you question him now, or wait until tomorrow?"
She wanted to take him now. She wanted to taste him in her throat. "It could if he gives up additional information."
"I can promise you that with his fleet of attorneys, you'll be in for a long, tough haul getting more than his name. You don't have the time to spare today. He's on ice, Dallas. He's done. Be satisfied with that for a few hours longer. I give you my word that as of ten a.m. tomorrow, he belongs to you."
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
"You've done superior work on this despite a number of difficult obstacles." He hesitated, studying her face. "I'd like to speak to something Chief Tibble said this morning. You deserve the bars, Dallas."
"They don't matter."
"Fuck it. This is between you and me, here in this room. You deserve to wear the bars. You've earned them. If it was only a matter of merit, you would wear them. Regrettably it's not only a matter of merit. Your age is a consideration. What are you, Dallas, thirty?"
"Thirty-one, sir."
He let out a half-laugh. "I've got shirts older than you. I have to hide them from my wife, but I've got them. Still this is a consideration that could be resolved, even used to advantage, in some circumstances."
"Commander Whitney. I'm aware that my personal life is a factor in this matter. That my marriage to Roarke, who is regarded in some quarters, certainly some within the department, with suspicion-unless he's being useful-is and will be more a detriment to my moving up in rank than the mayor using an illegal sex broker and doing the mambo in women's clothes would be to his future political standing. Chief Tibble was correct. It was my choice."
"I hope you're equally aware that your marriage isn't regarded as a detriment in this office."
"I am."
"Nor, for that matter, by the chief. If it were up to me, you'd have your bars."
"It used to matter to me. It doesn't seem so important anymore. I'd never be able to play the game with the same passion I can put into the job."
"You'll find out differently." His chair creaked when he leaned back. "It's a few years down the road yet, as things stand. But you will find out differently. Go home, clean up. Gear up. Then go take these bastards down."
Eve decided to follow orders exactly. The minute she got home she headed for the shower. She only wished she could wash away frustration and anger as easily as blood and sweat.
Bracing her hands on the tiles, she lowered her head so the jets of water could beat down over her, drumming out the little aches.
She didn't think. For twenty minutes under the spray she allowed herself to blank. Calmer, she stepped into the drying tube, let the hot air whirl and blow around her. She hitched on a towel, stepped back into the bedroom.
And saw Roarke.
"Sit down, Eve."
Her blood drained. "Peabody."
"No. No, she's doing well. In fact, she's on her way here now. You just need to sit."
"I've got a major op in a few hours. The investigative team deserves to be down on the bust. They need to be briefed."
"It can wait while you take a few more minutes to settle yourself." He scooped her off her feet.
"Hey! What are you, a damn rabbit. I don't have time for sex."
"If I thought sex was what you needed, we'd be in bed." Instead he dropped her on the couch, sat beside her. "Turn around here. Close your eyes."
"Look, Roarke-oh God." Her eyes fluttered as he dug fingers and thumbs into her shoulders.
"You've knots in here the size of my fist. I could dump a soother into you, but we'll try this instead."
"Yeah? Well, if you don't stop that within fifteen minutes, I'm going to kick your ass."
He bent his head, touched his lips to her knotted shoulder. "I love you, Eve. Every obstinate inch of you."
"I don't feel obstinate. I feel…" She felt herself filling up again, doubts and loathing. "I'm not sure of myself. You have to know you're right. Don't you have to know? That asshole Dwier, he knows he's right. Not a doubt in his mind, not a twinge. He's just trying to save his skin, and his woman's."
"A lot of people know they're right, when what they are is wrong. Having doubts keeps you human."
"Not like this. Not when you start doubting the core. Isn't that how this group pulled people in? The ones who started doubting the core, not trusting it. I traded Dwier for the case today. I gave a wrong cop a walk so I could close it down."