The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [276]
She nodded as black-and-whites screamed to the curb and members of the tactical team streamed down the sidewalk. “Here’s your ride, Sly.”
He looked up, saw her face, saw the faces of onlookers who tried to crowd in and stare. “I should have killed you first.”
“Yeah, there’s that hindsight thing. Hold this asshole for Special Agent Karen Stowe. He’s hers. I’m Mirandizing him on her behalf.” She crouched down, waited until Yost looked into her eyes.
“Winifred Cates was a friend of Agent Stowe’s. I’m doing this for her. You’re under arrest for assault, battery, sexual assault, and the murder by contract of various individuals whose names will be listed at the time of your booking. And that’s just in this state. I’m tossing in resisting arrest, assault on a federal officer, destruction of property, and fleeing the scene of a crime. Interpol and Global will be right behind me with their party favors. You have the right, you miserable son of a bitch, to remain silent.”
Eve walked back toward Second Avenue favoring her left shoulder. She’d jammed it hard against Yost’s kidney area and it ached like a bad tooth. Her nose was throbbing in counterpoint and felt as if it had spread across her face and into her ears.
She’d have plunked down a hundred dollars for a bag of ice.
“Sir!” Peabody sprinted to the corner, took one look at Eve’s face and winced. “Ow.”
“Am I messed up?” Eve lifted hesitant fingers to her nose. Hissed.
“Just a little swollen. It’d be worse if you’d broke it. Looks like it bled really good.”
“Which explains why small children ran screaming when I passed by. Where’s Stowe?”
“Inside. We got the word you brought Yost down. Sir, I would have pursued as backup, but McNab ordered me to stay, and Agent Jacoby was down.”
“You did right, so did McNab. What’s the status on Jacoby?”
“I don’t know. Stowe’s in contact with the MTs. Yost caught him with a pressure syringe, heavy barbs, dead in the heart. Dallas, he went down like a tree under the ax. By the time Stowe and I got to him, his heart had stopped. We administered CPR, and the MTs’ response was fast. They zapped him, got a rhythm. He was still unconscious when they took him off-scene.”
“Even blind ambition and gross stupidity don’t deserve a stopped heart. Stand by, Peabody. Keep this area clear. No statements to the media at this time.”
Eve swung inside. Trina’s helpful friend was sitting on the floor, her head back, and what looked like about ten ounces of red wine in a water glass. She gave Eve a wavery smile and kept sipping steadily.
“Are you all right? Do you need medical attention?”
She held up the glass. “This is all the medical attention I need. I’m going to drink this, go home, and sleep for eight hours.”
“I’ll arrange your transportation. You know it’s essential you speak to no one about what happened here this morning until you’re cleared to do so.”
“Yeah, you drilled me.” She studied Eve’s face. “I got some products that’ll help with that swelling and bruising. It’s great for after major face and body sculpting work. You want some free samples?”
“I’m okay. Where’s Agent Stowe?”
“In the back.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” Eve told her, then pushed through into the storeroom.
Stowe paced a line through the boxes as she talked on her pocket-link. “Keep me apprised of his status. You can reach me at this number at all times. Thanks.”
“Jacoby?” Eve asked.
“In a coma.” Stowe shoved the ’link in her pocket. “Critical. His heart—they may have to try to replace it. He took a direct hit. Clicked him off like a switch. I should have gone with him. He’s my partner. I wanted to see you. Needed to tell you. I didn’t tip Jacoby. He must have sensed something was up and tailed me. I didn’t tell him about this. I didn’t break faith with you.”
“If I thought you had, I wouldn’t have Yost on ice waiting for you to book and interview.”
Stowe turned and faced Eve. “You tracked him, set up the op, and you took him down.