"She has no particular interest in or connection to the men she's killed. Which makes your investigation more problematic."
"It's unlikely we'll track and apprehend her by identifying her next target or targets." She felt a little warning beat at the base of her skull. "The investigation is better served by concentrating on the subject's pattern— personal pattern. How she lives, works, plays. She isn't a woman to deny herself the comforts and luxuries she's always believed she deserves and which were denied to her for nearly nine years in prison. I'm currently compiling and analyzing data in that area to support what I believe is a valid theory."
"I'd be interested in reviewing that data and hearing that theory, but in the meantime, let's just backtrack a minute." He steepled his hands, tapped the index fingers together. "The computer probabilities oppose the view held by Dr. Mira and the primary as to the identity of one of the potential targets. Who—after reviewing all data and reports—I believe is and has been the central target all along. This individual's willingness to cooperate could very well result in Dunne's early apprehension and a closure to this case."
The beat became a pounding. "Utilizing civilians—"
"Is often expedient," Whitney finished. "Particularly when the civilian is known to be ... skilled in pertinent areas."
"Permission to speak with you privately, sir."
"Denied."
"Commander." Roarke spoke for the first time, in a soft tone, a direct contrast to the rising tension in the room. "If I may? She'll come at me sooner or later, Eve. We arrange to make it sooner, it gives us the advantage and may save another life."
"I object to using a civilian as bait." She looked directly at Whitney. "Whoever, whatever he might be. As primary of this investigation, I have the right to refuse employing tactics I feel generate unacceptable risk to my men, or to civilians."
"And as your commander, I have the right to overrule your refusal, to order you to employ those tactics or remove you as primary."
This time it was Feeney who grabbed Eve's arm. But Roarke was already getting to his feet. "Jack." His voice wasn't quite as soft now when he addressed Whitney. Deliberately, he stepped between him and Eve, turned so she had no choice but to look him in the face.
"You'll have control. She's had the upper hand till this. You'll draw her in where and how you choose. That's the first point. The second being I won't sit back and wait until she picks the time and place to have at me. I'm asking you for help, and offering you mine."
It was easy to see why he was so good at what he did. At winning whatever he wanted. Bending wills to his own with reason—at first anyway. Then by whatever method worked best.
But she wasn't a company to be absorbed, or a suit to be intimidated. "You're not asking or offering anything. And you're not giving me control, you're taking it."
"That would depend on how you look at it."
"I see just fine. Step back, Roarke, you're not in charge here yet."
Something flashed in his eyes, something deadly. It only served to add punch to a temper that was already fuming to peak. When she moved toward Roarke, Feeney grabbed her arm a second time, and Whitney came to his feet.
"Ease down, kid," Feeney muttered.
"Lieutenant Dallas." Whitney's voice cracked like a whip. "This office is not the place for your marital disagreements."
"You made it the place. This is an ambush, and one that circumvents my authority, that puts that authority on the block in front of my team."
Whitney opened his mouth, then closed it again in a tight line. "Point taken. Your team is dismissed."
"I'd prefer they remain at this point, sir. Completing this meeting privately now is a useless gesture."
"You're a hardass, Lieutenant, and you're skirting very close to the line."
"Yes, sir, I am. But you already crossed over it. I respect both your authority and your office, Commander."
He had to take a calming breath. "And you imply I show none for yours."
"That would depend ..." She glared at Roarke. "On how you look at it."
"And if you were looking at this situation objectively rather than through what is arguably justified anger at the way this particular avenue was presented to you?"
"I strongly believe Julianna Dunne may be out of the country, or that she has plans to leave New York for a short period of time. If I'm allowed to pursue that avenue, I believe I can confirm her location, or planned destination in a few hours."
"And this belief is based on?"
"My instincts and my considerable understanding of the subject." Pitch it now, Eve ordered herself, and pitch it hard.