The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [696]
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“You’ve done superior work on this despite a number of difficult obstacles.” He hesitated, studying her face. “I’d like to speak to something Chief Tibble said this morning. You deserve the bars, Dallas.”
“They don’t matter.”
“Fuck it. This is between you and me, here in this room. You deserve to wear the bars. You’ve earned them. If it was only a matter of merit, you would wear them. Regrettably it’s not only a matter of merit. Your age is a consideration. What are you, Dallas, thirty?”
“Thirty-one, sir.”
He let out a half-laugh. “I’ve got shirts older than you. I have to hide them from my wife, but I’ve got them. Still this is a consideration that could be resolved, even used to advantage, in some circumstances.”
“Commander Whitney. I’m aware that my personal life is a factor in this matter. That my marriage to Roarke, who is regarded in some quarters, certainly some within the department, with suspicion—unless he’s being useful—is and will be more a detriment to my moving up in rank than the mayor using an illegal sex broker and doing the mambo in women’s clothes would be to his future political standing. Chief Tibble was correct. It was my choice.”
“I hope you’re equally aware that your marriage isn’t regarded as a detriment in this office.”
“I am.”
“Nor, for that matter, by the chief. If it were up to me, you’d have your bars.”
“It used to matter to me. It doesn’t seem so important anymore. I’d never be able to play the game with the same passion I can put into the job.”
“You’ll find out differently.” His chair creaked when he leaned back. “It’s a few years down the road yet, as things stand. But you will find out differently. Go home, clean up. Gear up. Then go take these bastards down.”
Eve decided to follow orders exactly. The minute she got home she headed for the shower. She only wished she could wash away frustration and anger as easily as blood and sweat.
Bracing her hands on the tiles, she lowered her head so the jets of water could beat down over her, drumming out the little aches.
She didn’t think. For twenty minutes under the spray she allowed herself to blank. Calmer, she stepped into the drying tube, let the hot air whirl and blow around her. She hitched on a towel, stepped back into the bedroom.
And saw Roarke.
“Sit down, Eve.”
Her blood drained. “Peabody.”
“No. No, she’s doing well. In fact, she’s on her way here now. You just need to sit.”
“I’ve got a major op in a few hours. The investigative team deserves to be down on the bust. They need to be briefed.”
“It can wait while you take a few more minutes to settle yourself.” He scooped her off her feet.
“Hey! What are you, a damn rabbit. I don’t have time for sex.”
“If I thought sex was what you needed, we’d be in bed.” Instead he dropped her on the couch, sat beside her. “Turn around here. Close your eyes.”
“Look, Roarke—oh God.” Her eyes fluttered as he dug fingers and thumbs into her shoulders.
“You’ve knots in here the size of my fist. I could dump a soother into you, but we’ll try this instead.”
“Yeah? Well, if you don’t stop that within fifteen minutes, I’m going to kick your ass.”
He bent his head, touched his lips to her knotted shoulder. “I love you, Eve. Every obstinate inch of you.”
“I don’t feel obstinate. I feel . . .” She felt herself filling up again, doubts and loathing. “I’m not sure of myself. You have to know you’re right. Don’t you have to know? That asshole Dwier, he knows he’s right. Not a doubt in his mind, not a twinge. He’s just trying to save his skin, and his woman’s.”
“A lot of people know they’re right, when what they are is wrong. Having doubts keeps you human.”
“Not like this. Not when you start doubting the core. Isn’t that how this group pulled people in? The ones who started doubting the core, not trusting it. I traded Dwier for the case today. I gave a wrong cop a walk so I could close it down.”
“You had a choice to make.”
She reached back, gripped his hand. He’d been one of