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With more affection than annoyance, she knocked his feet from the desk and plopped her butt down in the vacated space. “You just passing by?”

“I’ve come to offer my services, old pal.” Generously, he held out the bag of nuts.

She munched and watched him. He had a hangdog face, one he had never bothered to have enhanced. Baggy eyes, the beginning of jowls, ears that were slightly too big for his head. She liked it just the way it was.

“Why?”

“Well, I got three reasons. First, the commander made an unofficial request; second, I had a lot of admiration for the prosecutor.”

“Whitney called you?”

“Unofficially,” Feeney explained again. “He thought that if you had someone with my outstanding skills working the data route with you, we’d tie this thing up faster. Never hurts to have a direct line to the Electronic Detection Division.”

She considered it, and because she knew Feeney’s skills were indeed outstanding, she approved. “Are you going to sign on the case officially or unofficially?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Then let’s make it officially, Feeney.”

He grinned and winked. “I figured you’d say that.”

“The first thing I need you to do is run the victim’s ’link. There’s no record either on the log or on the security tapes that she had a visitor the night she was killed. So somebody called her, arranged a meet.”

“Good as done.”

“And I need a run on everybody she put away—”

“Everybody?” he interrupted, only slightly appalled.

“Everybody.” Her face broke into sunny smiles. “I figure you can do it in about half the time I could. I need relatives, loved ones, associates, too. Also cases in progress and pending.”

“Jesus, Dallas.” But he rolled his shoulders, flexed his fingers like a pianist about to play a concert. “My wife’s going to miss me.”

“Being married to a cop sucks,” she said, patting his shoulder.

“Is that what Roarke says?”

She dropped her hand. “We’re not married.”

Feeney merely hummed in his throat. He enjoyed seeing Eve’s quick frown, quick nerves. “So how’s he doing?”

“He’s fine. He’s in Australia.” Her hands found their way into her pockets. “He’s fine.”

“Uh-huh. Caught the two of you on the news a few weeks ago. At some fancy do at the Palace. You look real sharp in a dress, Dallas.”

She shifted uncomfortably, caught herself, and shrugged. “I didn’t know you took in the gossip channels.”

“Love them,” he said unrepentantly. “Must be interesting, leading that high life.”

“It has its moments,” she muttered. “Are we going to discuss my social life, Feeney, or investigate a murder?”

“We’ll have to make time to do both.” He rose and stretched. “I’ll go run the check on the victim’s ’link before I get started on the years of perps she put away. I’ll be in touch.”

“Feeney.” When he turned at her door, she cocked her head. “You said there were three reasons you wanted in. You only gave me two.”

“Number three, I missed you, Dallas.” He grinned. “Damn if I haven’t missed you.”

She was smiling when she sat down to work. Damn if she hadn’t missed him, too.


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery