“I’m not surprised, sir.”
“She wished me to countermand your thirty-day suspension of Detective Garnet. I read your report on him. How did you manage to incite him to ... basically tell you to get fucked and to make physical contact?”
“It was surprisingly easy. He’s got a temper, and once the right buttons are pushed, feels entitled to use it. Bix is more controlled, sir, and I found it interesting that he
r tone with him is almost maternal. Garnet does the talking, Bix the listening. Bix immediately obeys an order, Garnet ignores them, at least when he’s hot.”
“Lieutenant Oberman cites a current investigation, in which both Garnet and Bix are involved, as the necessity for me to countermand, or failing that, to postpone the rip.”
“The Geraldi matter. My opinion, sir?” She waited for his nod. “Renee pulled that out of the air, and they tried to run with it. But without time to plan and coordinate, it tripped them up.”
“She relayed what happened—her version of what happened during the time you were in her office, assures me she will discipline her detectives and order Garnet to issue an apology to you.”
“Not accepted.”
“Nor would I accept in your place. But ...” He lifted his big hands. “Don’t you think it would be more useful to the investigation if Garnet remained on active duty?”
“He’s a hair trigger, Commander. He’s already steamed at Renee, already questioning—even ignoring her authority, her strategies. Now he’s taken this knock and she didn’t fix it. His dissatisfaction with the status quo just increased. He’s going to find trouble in his current mood and situation.”
“There’s a crack,” Whitney said with a nod, “and you use him to widen it.”
“I think he’d shatter it. When we take him down, he’ll flip on her. As much as making a deal with him leaves a bad taste, Commander, Garnet will flip on all of them for a decent deal. Bix won’t flip. He’s loyal. But I can flip Garnet.”
“Compromise, even with a bad taste, is something command routinely swallows. All right, Lieutenant, the suspension holds. Has Renee copied you on the investigation?”
“The data came in right before I received your request to meet, sir. I’ve got Peabody going through it, and I’ll do so myself.”
“As will I. You’ve made an enemy of her, Dallas.”
“She always was, Commander. She just didn’t know it.”
11
EVE KEPT HER STONY FACE ON AS SHE TRAVELED back to her division. From the few glances shot her way, the occasional murmur, she was assured the Central grapevine was spreading the gossip.
She needed to close herself off in her office awhile, do some probabilities, and use her instincts to select the next step.
Peabody started to hail her, but Eve shook her head and kept going. She heard the squeal when she was a few short steps from her door.
There was baby Bella decked out like a daffodil with her sunny curls, her chubby body tucked into a bright yellow sundress decorated with pink candy hearts.
The hearts matched her mother’s hair. Mavis Freestone bounced her baby girl and giggled at the squeals of delight. She’d scooped her hair back into a trio of stacked ponytails. What there was of her summer dress exploded with interlacing circles in vivid purple and pink.
Green eyes sparked with laughter in her pretty face as Bella bapped her hands together.
“Applause, applause!” Mavis gurgled, and the baby slapped her hands together again. “Now take your bow!”
On cue—and how the hell did a brain that tiny know—Bella pushed her feet—in shiny pink sandals that were a mini version of her mother’s—and rose up to stand on Mavis’s lap. She lowered her chin to her chest.
“Kisses to the crowd!” Mavis switched her handhold to Bella’s waist so the baby could smack her palm against her lips, then wave it.
Eve had to admit it was a pretty good routine.
“You brought the baby to a cop shop?”
Mother and daughter both turned, and big, happy smiles spread. “She wanted to visit.”
Bella threw out her arms, babbled.