• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“That’s right.” Slightly more cheerful, Eve switched from glide to elevator. “You’ll get your update on where we are in the case when I give the oral to Whitney. I think our man has a homey little hole right here in New York.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.” Geared up, Eve stepped off the elevator on Whitney’s level.

Since she was waved directly through, Eve knocked briefly on Whitney’s door, then stepped in.

He was seated behind his desk, and didn’t rise. He was a big man with dark, wide face and beefy shoulders, hair rapidly going gray and eyes that remained street-sharp.

There were two other people in the room, male and female. Neither of them rose either, but both studied her closely. As she did them.

The dull and boxy black suits with ties ruthlessly knotted at the neck, the good shoes with their military shine, and the cold survey tipped her off.

Feds. Shit.

“Lieutenant, Officer.” Whitney inclined his head and kept his big hands folded on his desk. “Special Agents James Jacoby and Karen Stowe. FBI. Lieutenant Dallas is primary on the Darlene French homicide investigation. Officer Peabody is her aide. The FBI has some interest in your case, Lieutenant.”

Eve said nothing, and stayed on her feet.

“The Bureau, in cooperation with other law enforcement agencies, has been pursuing the individual Sylvester Yost for several years in connection with various crimes, including murder.”

Eve met Jacoby’s eyes. “I’m aware of that from my research.”

“The Bureau expects the cooperation of the NYPSD in this pursuit. Agent Stowe and myself will run the case from the New York field office.”

“Agent Stowe and yourself are certainly free to run your case wherever it suits you best. You will not run my case from anywhere.”

Jacoby had brown eyes, dark and smug. “Yost’s activities come under the federal net.”

“Yost is not the exclusive property of the FBI, Agent Jacoby, nor of Global or Interpol, or the NYPSD. But the investigation into the murder of Darlene French is mine, and it’s going to stay mine.”

“You want to stay connected to this, Lieutenant, you’d better dump the attitude.”

“If you want to stay in this office,” Whitney cut in, “you’d be wise to dump yours, Agent Jacoby. The NYPSD is prepared to cooperate with the FBI as regards suspect Yost. It is not prepared to remove or replace Lieutenant Dallas as primary of the Darlene French homicide. Your jurisdiction has limits. You’d be smart to remember what they are.”

Jacoby angled himself toward Whitney, his posture aggressive, his eyes going hot. “Your primary’s connection to the individual Roarke, who may or may not be tied to this homicide and has long been under the federal eye as a suspect in various illegal activities, makes her a poor choice to head this investigation.”

“If you’re going to make accusations, Jacoby, put something behind them.” It took all Eve’s control to keep her voice level. “Would you like to produce the individual Roarke’s criminal record at this time?”

“You know damn well he doesn’t have one.” He got to his feet now. “You want to sleep with a man who’s run every dirty game in the book and still wear a badge, that’s on you. But—”

“Jacoby.” Stowe rose as well, neatly positioning herself between her partner and Eve. “For God’s sake. Let’s keep personalities out of this.”

“An excellent suggestion.” Whitney pushed back from his desk, stood. “Agent Jacoby, I will ignore that inappropriate attack on my officer. Once. If it’s repeated, in any way, in any shape, in any form, I will report your conduct to your superiors. Your request for cooperation and for inclusion in any data generated on the Darlene French matter by my lieutenant and her investigation team will be considered, after said request is submitted formally, in writing, from your command. This meeting is over.”

“The Bureau has the weight to take over this case.”

“That’s debatable,” Whitney returned. “But you’re free to submit the appropriate paperwork to that end. Until that time, let me suggest that you refrain from coming onto my turf and insulting this office and my officers.”

“I