Treachery in Death (In Death 32)

“No.”

“I’ll find a space.”

Lilah continued to keep her head down and her ass in the chair when Renee and Bix came back in—and when Renee, her face thunderous, closed herself in her office with him.

Nearly end of shift, she thought. Not much longer now. She considered requesting some personal time and ducking out early. But her lieutenant frowned on such requests, and in her current mood might make an issue of it.

Better just to ride the road.

She said nothing when Manford and Tulis came back from the field, and Tulis dropped files on her desk.

It was, she knew, expected she write up the fives, clean up the report, file it. The lieutenant considered her field men too valuable to sweat over paperwork.

She started in on it, telling herself it would keep her busy, distract her from watching the time. She’d eaten up that time when Renee came out and walked straight to Lilah’s desk.

Though her heart took a tumble, Lilah looked up placidly. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You’re with Bix,” Renee said briskly.

“With Bix, Lieutenant?”

“As I said. We’re short a man, if you’ve forgotten one of your squad went down. Do you have a problem with field work, Detective? I was under the impression you were eager to break away from your desk.”

“Yes, ma’am!” She infused her voice with enthusiasm. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Bix will give you the details en route. You’re cleared for OT, should it be necessary.”

Bix stood, looking at Lilah with his flat-eyed stare. “Let’s get it done.”

This is bullshit, bullshit, Lilah thought as she forced herself up to fall into step with him. She’d left some sort of tell, or one of the others had seen her go in, come out, had given the alert. Or . . .

Didn’t matter how, she thought. She was made.

“Where are we going?”

“One-man cook shop on Avenue D. We’re going to pick up the chef, put some pressure on him, see where it goes.”

Bullshit, bullshit, Lilah thought again.

“Something you and Garnet were working on? Look, I’m sorry about Garnet. I know the two of you worked pretty close.”

“He knew the score.” Bix stepped into the elevator, and since it was crowded with cops, Lilah got on with him.

She’d be damned if she’d be led like a lamb to the slaughter, and every instinct told her she’d been slated to be put down.

Quickly she replayed every minute she’d spent in Renee’s office, every move made. She’d left everything exactly as it had been. Besides, if there had been something out of order, Renee couldn’t know who ...

Unless she did monitor the squad room, and not just when she was in her office. And if she monitored the squad room, she could have her office on monitor. She could’ve seen everything.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Have you dealt with the chef before?” As she asked Lilah tugged at the neck of her top as if plagued by the heat. It wasn’t much of a stretch.

“Yeah. I’ll handle him. You’re along for ballast.” He cut his gaze down to her when she began to hyperventilate. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry. Claustrophobic. I . . .” She popped off the elevator, shoving cops aside when the doors opened. She’d have run then, but Bix was right beside her. Instead she lowered her head between her knees. “Couldn’t breathe.”

“How the hell did you get on the force?”