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“I’m not going to jail. I’m not going in a cage. Sparrow, Quinn Sparrow’s the one who set this up, who set me up. I’m not going in a cage. I’m an HSO operative, on assignment. I don’t answer to the NYPSD.”

“We can talk about that.” She kept her voice even, the tone interested. “You can tell me about your assignment, unless you blow yourself up first.”

“We’re not going to talk. You’re going to listen. I want transportation. I want a jet copter, and pilot, on the roof. I want ten million in nontraceable currency. When I’m clear I’ll send you the deactivation code. Otherwise . . .”

He held up his left hand and displayed the remote trigger strapped to his palm. “I use this. I’m HSO!” he shouted. “Do you think I won’t use this?”

“I don’t doubt you’ll use it, Agent Bissel. But I have to verify the explosive exists. Unless I can confirm the threat and tell my superiors, they’re not going to listen. I need to verify, so you can stay in control.”

“It’s there. And one twitch—”

“You know procedure and protocol. We’re professionals. I’ve got to answer to my superiors. Let’s confirm, then we can move on to your demands and negotiate.”

“It’s inside, you stupid bitch. I put it inside. You’d stayed out of this, I’d’ve had it drop-kicked to fucking HSO Base for screwing with me.”

“We’ll scan it. No point in anybody getting hurt. We’ve got Sparrow. He’s enough for me. He’s the one who got you into this mess. I’ve just got to confirm, so we can start the process.”

“Scan it, then. You’ll see. I want that jet copter. I want you to pull back, pull the hell back. I want transportation to a location of my choice.”

Roarke held up both hands. “Let me just get out my scanner, configure it for reading an explosive device. You know I own part of this building. I don’t want it damaged.”

Bissel shifted his gaze from Eve’s face to Roarke’s. Wet his lips. “Make one move, just one I don’t like, it goes.”

Roarke reached in his pocket, held out the scanner for Bissel’s approval.

“You’ve been dipping in Zeus, Agent Bissel,” Eve said to bring his attention back to her. “It’s not good for you. It can cloud your thinking.”

“You think I don’t know what I’m d

oing?” Sweat was running down his face, pooling at the base of his throat. “You think I don’t have the balls?”

“No. You couldn’t do what you do, be what you are if you didn’t have balls. Sparrow hadn’t screwed you up, you’d be fat city.”

“The son of a bitch.”

“He thought you were his dog, that he could keep you on a leash.” She didn’t look at Roarke, but sensed him at her side. “But you showed him what you were made of. I think all you wanted to do was get away after your assignment was complete. To get what was owed to you and get away, and things kept going wrong. You know, I bet Chloe would’ve gone with you. You didn’t have to kill her.”

“She was an idiot! A decent roll, but she’d irritate the hell out of you out of bed. I used her data unit to store information, to formulate plans. I know how to make my own plans. Contingencies. And what do you think I saw when I peeked in through the listening device I planted in the bedroom? She was trying to get into it, trying to break my passcode. Probably thought I was screwing around on her. Stupid, jealous little bitch.”

“What about the locket you gave her?”

He looked blank, then his jittery eyes smiled. “Passkey, drop box. Think I don’t know how to cover myself? I had drop boxes all over the damn place. Emergency funds, weapons, whatever I needed. Can’t put everything in one spot. Gotta spread out.”

“And she knew about this place. She knew, and she had that incriminating data buried on her unit, and one of your passkeys. I guess I was wrong. You did have to kill her.”

“Damn straight. It should’ve worked. It should’ve. I even got her to write the note. Just write it down for me, baby. One line, just one to say how you felt when you thought I was dead. And she was stupid enough to do it.”

“It was a good plan. So was Powell. It was just bad luck.”

“Explosive device confirmed,” Roarke said coolly. “My, my, Bissel, you certainly put all your eggs into one very volatile basket. If you discharge that, they wouldn’t be able to sweep up the pieces.”

“I told you. Didn’t I tell you? Now get me that copter. Get it now!”

“If you discharged it,” Roarke continued. “But you won’t, as I’ve just deactivated the timer. You’re clear, Lieutenant.”

“Thanks.” She aimed for Bissel’s unprotected legs. He staggered, roared, and his eyes went wild as he closed his hand into a fist to try to set off the explosive.

She hit him a second time when he reached for the sidearms, and Peabody came in from the side, bowling in mid-body to send them both flying across the now scarred floor.


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery