Treachery in Death (In Death 32)

He moved into 8-C. They kept the lights dim, he noted. Rest and quiet was the order of the day. Well, she’d get plenty of both where he was sending her. He moved to the bed, pulled out the vial in his pocket.

“Should’ve kept your nose out of our business, stupid bitch.”

Baxter stepped out of the shadows, put his weapon to Freeman’s head.

“Who’s the bitch now?” Baxter said as Trueheart stepped between Freeman and Strong. “Who’s the bitch now?”

Freeman’s secured,” Eve reported.

“They’ve got Runch,” Peabody told her. “And the accountant, Tulis, Addams. They’re rounding up her people like ducks in a pond.”

“With Janburry and Delfino spending some quality time with Bix, I’d say it’s time for the finale.”

Renee sat in her father’s study, loving him with every inhale. Hating him with every exhale.

“You don’t know what it’s like working Illegals today,” she insisted, but kept her tone, her face respectful. “I can’t afford to throw a man to the rats because of a slip. And at first, that’s what I thought was happening with Bill Garnet.”

“Renee, when one of your men uses the very thing you’re fighting against, you have to take action. You’re responsible for the code of your squad.”

Go ahead, she thought, give me the lecture on Marcus Oberman’s standards . I’ve heard it all before.

“I know that perfectly well. Loyalty is vital, you know that, too. I spoke with Garnet, kept it out of his file, but I ordered him to get into a program. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I began to suspect him and one of my other detectives . . . Dad, I have reason to believe two of my people were using my CI to obtain product—for use and profit. I have reason to believe they killed my CI before he could contact me.”

“Bix.”

“No, not Bix. Garnet was using Bix for cover. I think he might have tried to set Bix up for the fall. Lilah Strong.” She rose to pace. “She must have realized I was getting close. It must be why she tried to run today. Two of my people, Dad, betraying their squad, the department, me. Their badges.”

She willed tears to sparkle in her eyes. “It’s my fault.”

“Fault and responsibility aren’t always the same. Renee, if you believed this, if you had any evidence, why didn’t you so inform Lieutenant Dallas?”

“I did.” She spun around. “Just today. She brushed me off, just brushed me off. She’s so focused on Bix—and me. She’s so damn self-righteous.”

“She’s a good cop, Renee.”

She’s a dead cop now, Renee thought. “Better than me, I suppose.”

“That’s not what I said, or meant. Y

ou need to take this information to your commander. You should already have done so. You need to contact him and request a meeting, with Dallas included, and give them everything you know, everything you have on this.”

“I wanted to be sure before I ... I’ve been working it on my own. My responsibility,” she reminded him, since it was one of his favorite words.

“Dad, I think they got in deeper than Keener. He was just a weasel. I think they moved up, and it got Garnet killed. I have a line on that. I wanted to follow it through. I know it’s Dallas’s case, but for God’s sake, Dad—Garnet, Strong, even Keener, they’re mine, and I wanted to handle it.”

“I understand that. Command can be lonely, Renee, and it can be hard. But you’re part of a whole, part of a system. You can’t step outside that whole, that system, for your own needs. You owe it to your men to show them true leadership. Two of your people went bad. Now show the rest there’s no tolerance, no half measures.”

“You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I’ll contact the commander, request the meeting.”

“Do you want me to be there?”

She shook her head. “I need to do this on my own. I shouldn’t have brought you into it. I need to go, need to put my thoughts together. Thank you for hearing me out. I’ll make this right.”

“I trust you will.”

“I trust you will,” she muttered as she slammed her car door. It was just like him to lecture and pontificate, to give her that disapproving look because she hadn’t followed straight down the Saint Oberman path.

He’d never know just how far she’d strayed, or how wide she’d beaten her own path. But now he was, again, a useful tool.