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Eve simply waved the hand she held at her side to keep them back. “I don’t know, Jerry. You look shaken.”

“Everybody knows you’re trying to throw trash at the squad. IAB sow’s what you are. If you think you can dump on me like you’re doing on Kohli and Mills, think again. I’ve contacted my union rep, and we’re coming down on you.”

“Gee, Vernon, now you’re scaring me. Not the union rep.” She gave a deliberate shudder.

“You won’t be so smart when you’re hit with a lawsuit, and I start bleeding that rich husband you hooked.”

“My God, Peabody, a lawsuit. I feel faint.”

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant, I’ll catch you.”

“They’ll take your badge.” Vernon sneered. “Like they did before, only this time they’ll keep it. Before I’m done, you’ll wish you never heard my name.”

“We aren’t close to done, and I already wish that, Jerry.” She grinned at him. “I’ve got you cold, and when Ricker gets wind of it, when he starts worrying how I’m tracing those numbered accounts you set up back to him, he’s going to be very unhappy with you. I don’t think your union rep’s going to be much help where he’s concerned.”

“You got nothing. You’re just trying to set me up. I figure you want Roth’s job over the One two-eight, so you’re messing us up so she gets the boot, and you can sail in. That’s what she thinks, too.”

“Make sure you put that in your lawsuit. How I pulled your name out of a hat and decided to dedicate myself to destroying you and your squad, so I can sit behind a desk. That ought to fly.”

She shifted a little closer, her eyes drilling into his. “Only you’d better start thinking how to cover yourself. The money you’ve been taking isn’t going to help much, since I’m arranging to have those accounts frozen. And while you’re dealing with that, remember I’m the only one coming at you who has even a marginal interest in keeping you breathing. While I’m coming at your face, Ricker’s going to be at your back. And there’s a cop killer hunting dirty cops. You won’t know which direction he’s coming from.”

“That’s a rash of shit.”

He lifted his fists, she cocked her chin. “I wouldn’t,” she said softly. “But you go right ahead.”

“I’m taking you down.” He stepped back, clenched those fists at his sides. “You’re finished.” He shoved past her, hopped on the downward glide.

“No, but I’m getting there,” Eve murmured. “Let’s put some men on him. I don’t want him rabbiting.” She rolled her shoulders. “You know what I’m in the mood for now?”

“Kicking righteous ass, sir?”

“Got it in one. Let’s go sweat Riggs.”

“You’re limping again.”

“I am not. And shut up.”

She limped, damn it, to Interview A, where Feeney was waiting and popping nuts in his mouth. “What kept you?”

“Just a little kissy-face with a close personal friend. Did Riggs lawyer?”

“Nope. Made his phone call. Claimed it was to his wife. I gotta say, he’s a cucumber. And polite with it. Cool and well mannered, that’s our boy.”

“He’s Canadian.”

“Oh. I guess that explains it.”

They walked in to where Riggs sat patiently in a miserably uncomfortable chair.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Riggs,” Eve said and moved to the table.

“Lieutenant. Nice to see you.” He glanced down at the rip in her pants. “A pity about those trousers. They look so well on you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty torn up about it. Record on.” She read in the information as she took her seat. “No lawyer, Riggs?”

“Not at this time, though thank you for asking.”

“You do, then, understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery