“Yes, sir.”
He stepped back, was soon swallowed up by his people, and by others who wanted that brief contact with power and celebrity.
Eve preferred Commander Whitney’s quiet presence to Peachtree’s shining one. He’d brought his wife, Eve noted. If there was anything Anna Whitney excelled at it was the public and social areas of being a top cop’s wife. She wore black, a simple, understated suit, and ranged beside her husband she held a woman’s hand in both of hers.
“Halloway’s mother.” Feeney stepped up to Eve’s side. “I’ve already spoken to her. She asked specifically to meet you.”
“Man.”
“I know. I hate these things, too. Attractive redhead other side of the chief? Halloway’s girl. Name’s Lily Doogan. She’s pretty ripped up. There are badges here from every borough. That says something.”
“Yeah. It says something.”
“They got him in the next room. McNab’s in there.” Feeney let out a long breath. “Got him into a chair. Can’t stand easy for long yet. Roarke’s in there with him.”
“Roarke’s here?”
“Yeah.” Grief drenched him. “I couldn’t stay in there anymore. Just couldn’t do it.”
“Being here’s enough, Feeney.”
“Doesn’t feel like it. I’ll take you over to his mother.”
They made their way through the crowd of mourners, through the muted hum of conversation. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers, dim with the quiet light the grieving seemed to prefer.
“Lieutenant.”
Eve turned at the hand on her arm and looked into Jenna Franco’s eyes. She didn’t see grief in them, but she saw plenty of annoyance. She didn’t mask it as smoothly as Peachtree.
“Deputy Mayor.”
“I need to speak with you. Privately.”
“I have something to do first. You’ll have to wait.”
She tugged her arm free, turned her back. It was petty, she knew. But since she had a damn good idea what the private chat was going to entail, she doubted she and Jenna Franco were going to waste much time on the amenities.
Eve braced herself before approaching Colleen Halloway. She would probably be in her forties, maybe fifties, Eve calculated, but looked younger. Grief had given her skin a kind of translucence that added a youthful fragility against the unrelieved black of her mourning.
“Lieutenant.”
It was Anna Whitney who spoke first. Eve had often found herself on the commander’s wife’s wrong side. But at the moment there was none of the usual hint of impatience or irritation on her face.
And to Eve’s surprise, Anna took her hand and squeezed it.
“Mrs. Whitney.”
“Detective Halloway’s mother has been hoping to speak with you.” Her voice was low, her back turned slightly so that the words were for Eve alone. “Do you know the one thing more difficult than being married to a cop, Lieutenant?”
“No. I always figured that was the short straw.”
The faintest smile ghosted around Anna’s mouth. “There’s one shorter yet. That’s giving birth to one. Be careful with her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Colleen?” With a natural gentleness Eve admired, Anna draped an arm over the woman’s shoulders. “This is Lieutenant Dallas. Lieutenant, Kevin’s mother.”
“Mrs. Halloway. I’m very sorry for your loss.”