New York to Dallas - J. D. Robb [49]
“I’ll start on the data,” Annalyn said. “Bree, while the lieutenant’s setting up, why don’t you get us some eats? Use my code. My treat.”
“Sure. What would you like, Lieutenant?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You a veggie?” Annalyn asked her.
“Not unless I can’t identify the meat.”
“Texas beef, one of the perks. Hardly any filling. I’ll spring for burgers, Bree.”
“Could use a Pepsi,” Eve added. “Coffee’s absolute shit.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
When Bree left, Eve glanced at Annalyn again. “Something on your mind, Detective?”
“She’s a good cop, doesn’t miss much. A little more seasoning, she won’t miss anything. On a personal level, she can be a little intense, but she’s not an asshole. Right now she’s holding on by her fingernails. She’ll keep holding on as long as she believes we’ll find Melinda. She stops believing that, she’s done. Not just for now. Just done.”
“Then we won’t give her any reason not to believe it.”
“She needs to be part of bringing McQueen down.”
“I’ve got that, but that’s your lieutenant’s call, not mine.”
“You don’t get you’re her hero. Whether you want to be or not,” she continued, correctly reading Eve’s face. “You saved her life, and more important to her, you saved Melly. You know what he did to them, to all those kids, and you stopped him, you got them out.”
“I got lucky. If you read the files, you know I was lucky I didn’t get us all killed.”
Annalyn propped her ankle on her knee. “Not the way I read it—and besides, if it wasn’t for lucky, half the cases we close would still be open. It doesn’t matter how you did it, you did it. And you’re a big part of why she can believe we’ll do it again. Stop him, and get Melly out. If you’ve got doubts—and Christ knows I do—and you want Bree to keep hanging on, to be a useful part of the investigation, don’t let her see them.”
Eve didn’t hesitate, didn’t need to. “Let me make this clear. At this point in time, I don’t have any doubts. What I have is data, facts, pattern, theory, and instinct. I don’t believe we’re going to get Melinda Jones home, and put McQueen and his partner in prison. I know it.”
Annalyn glanced toward the door. “How do you know it? No, wait. If you mean that, tell us both when Bree gets back.”
“I’ll do that. Get started on the anal.”
Having said her piece, Annalyn got to work without any more chatter. Eve continued with her board, had it nearly set to her satisfaction when Bree and the food arrived.
The smell of burgers and fries filled the room, and for a moment made the strange space comfortably familiar. Eve took her burger off the disposable plate, chomped in. “Good,” she decreed. “Okay, here’s how I work, and how we’ll be working as long as I’m here. I use visuals, like the board here, and if I’m sitting back with my eyes closed I’m not catching a nap. I’m thinking. If I kick you out it’s because I want to think without your thoughts getting in my way. Detective Jones, if I refer to your sister as the vic, I don’t want to see that look on your face I caught during the briefing. I know it’s personal, and to a point that could be an advantage. But if it gets in the way, you’re out.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your partner understands you, and she’s got your back. I don’t want her distracted worrying that you’re going to lose it at any point—any point—in this investigation.”
“I—”
“Don’t interrupt. We’re going to find McQueen and put him back where he belongs. I believe the most direct route to that end is the partner. We identify, locate, apprehend her, and bring her in, grill her like this pretty damn good Texas beef.”
She took another bite, swilled down some Pepsi.
“He had a long run before he went down. He chose his spot and made it his sick, personal playground. He’s not going to have a long run this time for very specific, very definite reasons.”
On another bite of burger, she leaned back on the shiny desk. Adjusting, she thought,