Shadows in Death (In Death #51) - J.D. Robb Page 0,26
has shaken the lid off some.”
“He couldn’t have known or expected Roarke would be on the crime scene last night.”
“No, but when he saw Roarke, he couldn’t resist.”
“ ‘Here I am,’ ” Mira said, lifting a hand. “ ‘I did that, and was paid handsomely. And I’ll do that to you and everyone who matters to you for free.’ He’s killed most of his life with impunity, and for profit. Roarke’s eluded him, but he believes he’s ready to change that, to reach that goal. He’ll stay in New York until you stop him.”
“I will stop him.”
“How is Roarke?”
“He’s handling it, taking steps. He’s—” She broke off, stopped pacing, pressed her fingers to her eyes. “He’s worried. Not for himself, because ego. But for me, for the rest.”
“And you’re worried about him, not for yourself. Ego.”
Mira rose, took Eve lightly by the arms. “In both cases the ego’s well-founded. You both know there are risks, and you’re both equipped to deal with them. You have your considerable skills, Eve, and the entire NYPSD behind you. Roarke has his considerable skills and vast resources. Separately, you’re formidable. Together? I would never bet against you.”
“It shook him, seeing Cobbe last night. He’s almost never thrown off.”
“A ghost from the past. It would shake anyone.”
“It shook Whitney, too.” She breathed out, and breathed easier for saying it out loud. “Hell, it shook me to see two of the toughest men I know shaken. So that’s that end of it.”
Eve dropped down in the chair again, scrubbed her hands over her face, raked them back through her hair. “I played him a little—Roarke—over something. Not all the way, because there’s a core of truth in it, but I played him to get him to agree to talk to you.”
Mira sat again, crossed her legs again. “Well played then.”
“It was actually Peabody’s idea, but it’s a good one. Having him talk to you directly instead of me passing what he knows about Cobbe.”
“That’s a very solid core of truth. It would be helpful.”
“But around that’s the squishy part, because I want him—I want you to …”
“I understand. Why don’t I contact him? I could talk to him early this evening, at your house, where he’s comfortable, if he likes. Or at my home. Either is less official than here.”
“Yes. Thanks. Thanks. I have to get back. I have the victim’s family coming in.”
“I’ll write the profile, copy it to all parties.”
“Okay.” Eve rose. “I appreciate the extended time.” She started out, stopped. “I don’t want you or Mr. Mira to take any chances, I want you to stay aware, but I don’t see Cobbe looking at either of you. He wouldn’t understand you’re family. He wouldn’t get that.”
“His lack of understanding, of being capable of understanding Roarke or you, is how you’ll stop him.”
Eve counted on it, worked it all over in her head as she took the glides back to Homicide.
Only Detectives Carmichael and Santiago manned desks—Santiago working his comp, Carmichael her ’link. Baxter and Trueheart were in Maryland, she remembered, Jenkinson and Reineke—according to the bullpen board—in the field.
Peabody prepping the conference room.
“Santiago, Carmichael—both Carmichaels—Shelby, coordinate with EDD on a search and seize. Plan on moving on it at fourteen hundred hours. Take your fine-tooth combs.”
“What the hell is a fine-tooth comb?”
“It’s a comb with really skinny teeth close together so you don’t miss anything,” Santiago told her.
“Okay, take those and don’t miss any fucking thing. Modesto homicide. Husband’s going to be in the box around fourteen-thirty hours unsuccessfully weaseling his way out of confessing to hiring a hit on his wife.
“Read the file.”
The rest she had to say to her squad would wait until all were present and accounted for.
She went to her office, put together the file she wanted for her interview with Tween. Since McNab had come through, she added the text messages. Added the art sale, the shadow account and transfers.
Her comm signaled.
“The Modesto family just arrived. I’m escorting them to conference room two.”
“On my way.”
She took the time to text Reo.
Search team assigned. Will be ready to roll out by fourteen hundred. Will send officers to bring Tween in for questioning at that time. He’s going to lawyer up, so you’ll have plenty of time to get to Central for the interview. Put through the warrants.
She made her way down to the conference room, stepped in as Peabody offered the family coffee or tea.
Two men, two women. The older woman—an older version of the victim—wept openly. The younger