Memory in Death (In Death 22)

“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.