Treachery in Death (In Death 32)

“I’m asking you to be my eyes and ears inside. Watch, listen.” Eve took out a card. “If you need or want to contact me, use a disposable or a public ’link. No point taking chances. My personal number’s on there.”

“Lieutenant?” Lilah said as Eve opened the door. “I knew—some of it anyway. I knew in my gut, but I didn’t do anything.”

“Now you are,” Eve said simply, and closed the door.

Pleased with the progress, Eve took a zigzagging route home, watching for shadows. No one followed her, but as she approached the gate, she realized someone was waiting for her.

The car flashed across the road, directly in her path, and angled broadside to block the gates as she hit the brakes.

Fury came first, but she engaged her recorder as she watched Garnet slam out of the driver’s side.

No one with him, she noted, using her cams to be sure no other vehicles made any move to corner her. She’d be damned if she’d be trapped at the gates to her own home. Her own normal.

Garnet wanted another confrontation? she thought. It might prove interesting.

She slammed out of her own vehicle.

“You don’t come to my house, Garnet. Do yourself a favor. Move your vehicle and keep going.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you can come into my squad and push me around? You think you can set IAB on me?”

So Webster let him have a sniff, Eve thought. Fuel to the fire she’d built.

“I think I’m your superior.” She said it coolly, braced to defend against what she saw wasn’t just a ride on temper, but a little chemical help to amp the speed.

“You’re nothing. Anybody can marry money and use it for the climb. You’re just another whore with a badge.”

“I still outrank you, Garnet. And you’re about to double that thirty-day rip.”

“Nobody here but you and me, bitch.” He gave her a taunting little shove, both hands to her shoulders. “You’re going to find out rank doesn’t mean dick.”

“Touch me again, Garnet.” She knew she was baiting him now. She wanted to. “Put hands on me again, and you lose your badge for good. You’ve been using. You’ve confronted, threatened, and assaulted a superior officer—again. Get in your vehicle and drive away, or I take you all the way down.”

“Fuck you.” He backhanded her; she let him. She went with the blow, let it propel her around as he moved in, fists raised.

She slammed hers into his face. “No, please. Fuck you.”

The unexpected punch knocked him back a step, had blood trickling from the side of his mouth.

“Now, back off,” she warned, but he charged.

His fist glanced off her shoulder, but had enough behind it to sing down her arm. Still she knew in that moment she could take him one-on-one. He was bigger, had more of a reach, but he was consumed by his fury, and sloppy with it.

She blocked, hit him again with a hard, short-armed punch to the face. “Back the fuck off!”

From behind her she heard the roar of an engine and knew Roarke was barreling down the drive. Time to end this, she thought, before somebody got seriously hurt.

Even as she thought it, she saw the move. On instinct she kicked out, kicked hard so her boot connected with Garnet’s forearm. The weapon he’d drawn flew out of his hand, clattered against the iron gates.

“You’ve lost your mind.” There was a tinge of genuine wonder in her voice. “You’ve completely lost your fucking mind.”

As if to prove it, he started toward her. Then the gates swung open. Like her, he could hear the slam of a door, the rush of footsteps.

“I’ve got this,” Eve said to Roarke as he bent to pick up Garnet’s weapon. “I’ve got this.”

His eyes burned as cold as his voice. “Then you’d best get rid of it before I do.”

Garnet, mouth bloody, left eye already swelling, looked from one to the other. “This isn’t over.” He stormed back to his car, wrenched the door open. “I’ll bury you, bitch!” he shouted before he jumped in, sped away.