High Noon Page 0,39

of the frustration show. "Out of this squad, out of the department? I've got no cause to put him off the job, not at this point. And, Phoebe, sitting behind that desk means you have to demand respect for your authority."

"And so I have," she said evenly. "Thirty days may give him time to consider that. Captain, he stood in this office and accused me of being behind this desk because I've performed sexual acts with you."

Dave stared at her a moment. "Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch." He sucked in a breath. "Were there any witnesses to those accusations?"

"No, and I'd turned off the recorder before he made them. But he made them. Very specifically. Which indicates he has as much contempt for you as for me. Moreover, I believe he was about to make a move on me-physically. Detective Sykes interrupted. I don't like playing it this way. I don't like spreading this kind of crap around, but the fact is, I think Arnold Meeks is dangerous. So ask Sykes about it."

"I'll do that. I'm going to schedule that sit-down for this afternoon. Make sure you're clear for it."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want to file sexual harassment charges?"

"Not at this time. I'll stand with the insubordination."

He nodded, turned toward the door. "You may want to contact your own rep." He glanced back. "The Meekses have some muscle in the department, connections, history. Keep your ass covered, Phoebe, because even if we're able to take this asshole down, he could do some damage."

"I will. Dave? I'm sorry I had to pull you into it this way, this personal way."

"You didn't," Dave said shortly. "He did."

Trouble, she thought when she was alone again. Trouble was coming. Well, she'd dealt with trouble before. When the morning session was finished, she'd make some time to review Meeks's jacket, the statements from the Gradey incident and her own personal report of her altercation with Meeks in her office.

Through the glass wall of her office, she saw Dave was already gesturing Sykes toward the break room. A private talk. Her captain's protective instincts were up, and she was sorry, damn sorry, she'd had to incite them.

But she was damned if Meeks was going to endanger lives, threaten her, upset her family, then pull out his departmental pedigree as a shield.

She didn't care who his father was.

And right now, she reminded herself, she needed to put this aside and get downstairs. She swung by the PAA on the way through the squad room. "I'm in the conference room for the next ninety minutes."

"Oh, okay. Lieutenant?" Annie Utz, the squad's public administrative assistant, sent Phoebe a quick, nervous smile. "I, ah, may have to take a day off later in the week for some, um, personal business."

"All right. If you can let me know ahead of time, that'd be good. We'll see the desk is covered."

"Um... um... Lieutenant?" The smile wavered around the edges.

"I know I'm still new and all. But I like working here. I hope I'm doing a good job."

"You're doing fine." Wouldn't hurt to tone down the makeup and buy the next size up in your shirt, Phoebe thought, but the work itself wasn't a problem.

"Um... I brought in pralines today. Homemade." She held up a covered paper plate. "Maybe you'd like one."

"After the session."

"You're taking the stairs, right? The way you run up and down those stairs instead of taking the elevator, sugar sure won't hurt you."

"My fondness for sugar is why I run up and down the stairs."

She hurried out before Annie could make her any later. With the opening of her lecture winding through her mind, she pushed through the door, started the jog down the stairway.

Her car had to be ready today, she remembered. Had to. She'd call the mechanic during the break and

She barely saw the flash of movement, had no time to react much less reach her weapon as the attack slammed her against the stairwell wall. Pain burst along with an explosion of fear when her head rammed hard against the concrete. And her vision hazed with red.

Seconds, it took only the few seconds when her instincts were screamingfight and the stun from the blow buckled her knees for tape to slap over her mouth, for her arms to be wrenched back.

Struggling, dizzy from the blow, she tried to bring her heel down, missed the mark. Then she was blind from the hood yanked over her head. Her scream muffled to nothing against the tape