Judgment in Death (In Death 11)

Mills was in the passenger’s seat, his eyes closed, his chin on his chest as if he’d stopped to take a catnap. From the chin down, he was blood.

Eve stood, coating her hands with Seal-It, and studied the position of the body.

Posed, she thought as she leaned in the open window. She saw the badge, facedown on the bloody floor of the car, and she saw the dull glint of silver coins.

“Who found him?”

“Good Samaritan.” One of the uniforms stepped forward, as if he’d been waiting anxiously for his cue. “We got him stashed in a unit with a couple of cops. He’s pretty shook.”

“You get a name, a statement?”

“Yes, sir.” Smartly, the uniform flipped out his notebook, keyed in. “James Stein, 1001 Ninety-fifth. He was heading home from work—worked late tonight—and saw the vehicle in the break-down lane. Wasn’t much traffic, he said, and he saw somebody sitting in the car. Felt bad about it. Stopped, went over to see if he could lend a hand. When he saw the deceased, he called it in.”

“When did the call come in?”

“Ah, twenty-one-fifteen. My partner and I were first on-scene, and arrived at twenty-one-twenty-five. We recognized the vehicle as departmental, called it in, and transmitted the vehicle identification number and a physical description of the deceased.”

“All right. Have Stein taken home.”

“Sir? You don’t want to question him?”

“Not tonight. Verify his address and have him taken home.” She turned away from the uniform and saw Peabody and McNab hustle out of another black and white.

“Lieutenant.” Peabody glanced toward the car, and her mouth went tight. “I was with McNab when the call came through. I couldn’t shake him off.”

“Yeah.” Eve looked over to where Roarke stood, dark against the lights. “I know the feeling. Seal up, record the scene, all angles.” She didn’t bother to bite back an oath when yet another car squealed up, and Captain Roth jumped out.

Eve walked over to meet her.

“Report, Lieutenant.”

Eve didn’t report to Roth, and they both knew it. They studied each other a moment, a subtle flexing of muscles. “At this point, Captain, you know what I know.”

“What I know, Lieutenant, is you fucked up, and I’v

e got another man dead.”

The chatter around them cut off, as if someone had severed vocal chords with a knife.

“Captain Roth, I’ll give you leeway for emotional distress. But if you want to try to set me down, you do it officially. You don’t come at me on my crime scene.”

“It’s no longer your scene.”

Eve simply sidestepped and blocked Roth from shoving by her. “Yes, it is. And because it is, I have the authority to have you removed, should it become necessary. Don’t make it necessary.”

“You want to take me on, Dallas?” Roth jabbed a finger between Eve’s breasts. “You want to go a round with me?”

“Not particularly, but I will if you put your hands on me again or try to interfere with my investigation. Now, you either back off, fall in, or remove yourself from the sealed area.”

Roth’s eyes flared, her teeth bared, and Eve braced herself for what was to come.

“Captain!” Clooney pushed his way through the crowd of cops. His face was flushed, his breath short as if he’d been running. “Captain Roth, may I speak with you, sir? In private.”

Roth vibrated another moment, then seemed to pull herself in. With a brisk nod, she turned and strode back to her vehicle.

“I’m sorry about that, Lieutenant,” Clooney murmured. His gaze slid past her, rested miserably on Mills. “This cuts deep with her.”

“Understood. Why are you here, Clooney?”