Nadine sat again, crossed her long legs. She fluffed her streaky blonde hair, smiled thinly. “You’ll have to show your warrant to my representative, and when he’s verified its authenticity, we’ll discuss the printouts.”
“You don’t want to play hardball with me on this.”
Nadine’s eyes, a feline green, sparkled with temper. “Oh, don’t I?”
“Under state and federal law,” Carter began, “Ms. Furst is under no obligation to turn over any property, personal or professional, without a court order.”
“I called you.” Nadine spoke in a quiet voice. “I didn’t have to. I could have gone straight to Delancey, filed my story. But I called you, out of respect, out of friendship. And because you got there first . . .” She paused long enough to aim a hot glare at one of her crew. He seemed to shrink under it. “You shut me out. This is my story.”
“You’ll get your goddamn story. I just spent the last half hour in a pretty little row house in Brooklyn with the parents of a twenty-year-old girl, parents I watched fall to pieces, bit by bit when I told them their daughter was dead, when I had to tell them where she’d been all fucking night.”
Nadine got slowly back to her feet as Eve strode across the room. They stood now, toe to toe.
“You wouldn’t have found her if it wasn’t for me.”
“You’re wrong. It might not have been me, but somebody would’ve found her. Five, six hours in a recycle bin, ninety degree temps outside, a good one-twenty inside that box, somebody would’ve found her pretty quick.”
“Look, Dallas,” Nadine began, but Eve was on a roll.
“He probably thought of that when he shoved her in there, when he sent you the images. Maybe he got a kick out of thinking about the poor son of a bitch who found her, about the cop who’d have to wade around in there with her. You know what happens to a body after a few hours in that kind of heat, Nadine?”
“That’s not the point.”
“No? Well, let me show you what the point is.” She yanked the recorder out of her pocket, then marched over to plug it into the unit. Seconds later, the image of Rachel Howard, as Eve had found her, shot on-screen.
“She was twenty years old, studying to be a teacher, working at a 24/7. She liked to dance and collected bears. Teddy bears.” Eve’s voice slashed like a razor as she stared at what had become of Rachel Howard. “She has a younger sister named Melissa. Her family thought she was at the dorm where she had friends, pulling an all-nighter as she did once or twice a week, so they weren’t concerned. Until I knocked on their door.”
She turned away, looked at Nadine now. “Her mother went right down on her knees, collapsed like all the air had gone out of her body. You’ll have to run over there with your crew when we’re done. I’m sure you’ll get some good image for your story. That kind of thing, all that suffering, it really pumps the ratings.”
“This is uncalled for.” Carter snapped the words out. “This is intolerable. My client—”
“Be quiet, Carter.” Nadine reached down for her leather portfolio bag. “I want to speak with you in private, Lieutenant.”
“Nadine, I strongly advise—”
“Shut up, Carter. In private, Dallas.”
“All right.” She unplugged her recorder. “My office.”
She didn’t speak as they walked out, said nothing as they moved to the glide that would take them up to her division.
They moved into the bullpen, and the initial calls of greeting trickled into silence as both women moved straight through.
Eve’s office was small and spare, with a single narrow window. She shut the door, took the chair at her desk, and left the other, badly sprung chair, for Nadine.
But Nadine didn’t sit. What she’d seen, what she felt was clearly printed on her face. “You know me better. You know me better, and I didn’t deserve to be treated this way, didn’t deserve the things you said in there.”
“Maybe not, but you’re the one who pulled in a rep, you’re the one who jumped down my throat because I blocked you from a story.”
“Fuck it, Dallas, you arrested me.”
“I did not arrest you. I remanded you into custody for questioning. You’ve got no sheet out of this
.”
“I don’t give a damn about the sheet.” Sick and furious, she shoved at the chair. It was a gesture Eve understood and respected, even as the flying seat caught her on the shin.
“I called you,” Nadine spat out. “I notified you when I was under no obligation to do so. Then you cut me out, you haul me in, and you treat me like a ghoul.”