“I’m going to a bust, not a party.”
“That’s no reason not to look your best. Let’s see, what’s the well-dressed cop wearing these days to take down a major terrorist organization? You can’t go wrong with basic black.”
“Is this a joke?” she asked as he selected another shirt.
“Good fashion sense is never a joke.” He handed her the shirt, slid a finger down the dent in her chin. “But it’s good to see you smile again, Lieutenant. Oh, and wear the black boots, not the brown.”
“I don’t have any black boots.”
He reached in, pulled out a pair of sturdy black leather. “You do now.”
Half a block down from the Church of The Savior, Eve sat in the surveillance vehicle and argued with Peabody.
“Look, you’re lucky to be here at all. You’re on medical leave.”
“No, I’m not because I didn’t sign off.”
“I signed you off.”
“I signed me back on.”
Eve bared her teeth. “You forgot the ‘sir.’ ”
Peabody’s chin jutted. “No, I didn’t.”
“How about I write you up for insubordination?”
“Go ahead.” Peabody folded her arms across her chest. “I can handle it. Just like I can handle this op.”
Eve let out a gusty sigh. “Maybe you’re right.”
Beside her, Feeney shifted his gaze from the monitor toward Eve. And thought: Oh-oh.
“I’m patched up,” Peabody claimed, relaxing a little as she saw her opening. “I’m fit for duty. It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“I guess I’m just overreacting a little.” Eve lifted her hands, then pushed to her feet. “You ought to know how you feel, right?”
“Absolutely. Sir,” she said.
“Well then.” Eve patted Peabody’s shoulder lightly. Then squeezed. She watched her aide’s color drain, watched her mouth go lax on a shocked and pained O. “And how do you feel now?”
“I feel just . . .”
“All patched up?” She watched the sweat pearl on Peabody’s brow. “Fit for duty?”
“I’m . . .”
“Sit down. Shut up.”
“Yes, sir.” At Eve’s gentle nudge, Peabody’s legs folded. She wasn’t sure if she put her head between her knees or Eve did, but either way she was grateful.
“You’ll stay in the surveillance vehicle and assist McNab. Any arguments from you, Detective?” she said, looking at McNab.
“No. No, sir, Lieutenant.” He patted Peabody on the back. “You okay, honey?”
“No honeys!” Eve pulled at her hair. “There are no honeys on an op, for sweet Christ’s sake. Keep it up, just keep it up, and I’m having one of you transferred to Queens.”
She turned on her heel, dropped down beside Feeney again. “What’s the status?”