“I’ve got many names connected to one or more of the vics that are in the system. Cops, lawyers, Child Services, medicals, the handful of complainants that weren’t sealed. Broke that down to names that popped on at least two of the vics and ran those. Just zipped the data to your unit. Our pal Nadine Furst covered the George trial. That putz Chang’s down as media liaison.”
“I guess that figures.” She sat on the edge of his desk. “What’s your gut?”
“That if we’ve got any family members involved, and we do, they’re in the sealeds. You’re stewing about it; you’re carrying wounds over it; you want your privacy.”
“Yeah, that’s mine, too. And if you’re going to talk to anyone about it, about what you’re carrying, it’s going to be somebody who was there with you. Somebody who knows and stood for you and yours.”
“You’re looking at Clarissa Price.”
“And looking hard. You know anything about DS Dwier, out of the Sixteenth?”
“Nothing I didn’t read in his file when he popped. Want me to ask around?”
“Yeah, quietly.” She hesitated. “Does it bother you?”
“Looking at another badge?” Baxter puffed out his lean cheeks. “Yeah, some. It’s supposed to bother us. Otherwise, we’d all be IAB, wouldn’t we?”
“There you go. You can bend the line. You can even move it a little sometimes. But you can’t break it. Break it, and you’re not us anymore. You’re them. Dwier broke it, Baxter. That’s my gut.”
She pushed off the de
sk, walked around the room. “You’ve used Trueheart a few times, right?”
“A couple. Good kid. Fresh as a daisy yet, but eager.”
“If I brought him in on this, would you use him?”
“I’ve got no problem dumping some . . .” He sat back, cleared his throat. “You asking me to train him?”
“No, just . . . okay, yes. Sort of. You’re second grade, so you qualify, and he could use somebody to work him, rub some of the dew off him without dulling the shine. Interested?”
“Maybe. I’ll take him on this one—contingency. We’ll see how we fit.”
“Good.” She started for the door, then stopped. “Baxter, why’d you transfer in from AntiCrime?”
“Couldn’t get close enough to you, honey.” He winked suggestively, and when she just stared blandly, shrugged. “Got restless. Wanted Homicide. Never a dull moment.”
“You can say that again.”
“Never a—”
“You’re such a jerk,” she replied. And turning ran straight into Roarke.
The man could move like a ghost.
“Sorry to break up this tender moment,” he began. “But we’ve got a second shield ready. We’re about to run it with one of the Fitzhugh units.”
“Who won the coin toss?”
He smiled. “It was agreed, after some debate, that the initial operator would continue in that function. Do you want to observe from in here, or your office?”
“We’ll use mine. It’s bigger.” She closed a hand over his wrist. “No heroics.”
“I’d never qualify for hero status.”
“I order a shutdown, you shut down.” Her hand slipped down until their fingers linked. “You got that?”
“Loud and clear. You’re in charge, Lieutenant.”