The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [80]
“My childhood?”
She could have no idea what her confused expression did to him. How it cooled and smoothed every hot and ragged edge inside him. “Your father, Eve.”
Now confusion turned to shock. “No. How could you think that? I wanted you. You knew I wanted you. There’s nothing between us that would make me . . .” It stirred hideous images to think of it, but she faced them. “There was no love there, no passion, not even need. He raped me because he could. He raped a child, his own child, because he was a monster. He can’t hurt me when I’m with you. Don’t let him hurt you.”
“I won’t say I’m sorry.” He lifted his hand, skimmed his fingers over her cheek. “I wouldn’t mean it. But I will say I love you. I’ve never meant anything more.”
He drew her into his arms. She pressed her face to his shoulder and held on. “I’ve been so messed up.”
“So have I.” He brushed his lips over her hair, felt his world balance again. “I’ve missed you, Eve.”
“I won’t let the job screw this up.”
“It doesn’t. We manage that on our own.” He drew her back, touched his lips gently to hers. “But it keeps things lively, doesn’t it?”
She sighed, stepped back. “It’s gone.”
“What is?”
“I’ve had this low-grade headache for a couple of days. It’s gone. I guess you were my headache.”
“Darling. That’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, I’m sugar. Did I queer this Green Space deal for you?”
“Well now, what’s a few hundred million in the grand scheme of things?” He’d have played with that awhile, but she looked so appalled. “Just kidding. It’s fine.”
“Glad you found your sense of humor. Anyway, I’ve got a lot going on. Maybe, unless you want to talk more about that broccoli, we could go into it later.”
“I think we’ve said all there is to say about broccoli already.”
“Good. You know, even though we’re all mushy again, it’s hard to say this. But I could use some help. Your kind of help on this case.”
“Why, Lieutenant, you’ve made my day.”
“I thought it would, though it doesn’t do a lot for mine.”
Her communicator sounded. She pulled it out, listened to Whitney’s aide order her immediately to The Towers. “Acknowledged. There’s the bell for the next round,” she told Roarke.
“My money’s on you.”
“So’s mine.” She rose on her toes, kissed him hard before she broke away to stride to the door. “By the way, ace, you owe me a new lamp.”
She was revved and ready to do battle when she entered The Tower. Chief Tibble ruled here, with a steady, if an occasionally ruthless hand.
A great many cops feared him. Eve respected him.
“Lieutenant Dallas.” He wasn’t behind his desk but stood in front of it. The style, the positioning, made her think of Roarke. Standing put him in control of the people who sat in the room and of the situation that brought them there.
At his signal, she took a seat between Whitney and Captain Bayliss from IAB. Captain Roth sat rigidly on the other side of Bayliss. Feeney lounged, or appeared to lounge, on Roth’s far side.
“We’ll begin with information that has come to my attention regarding an internal investigation, centering most specifically on the Illegals Division of the One hundred and twenty-eighth Precinct.”
“Chief Tibble, I wish to state my objection that such an investigation was initiated and proceeded without my knowledge.”
“So noted,” he said, nodding at Roth. “However, it is within the authority of the IAB to conduct such an investigation without informing the squad captain. However,” he continued, shifting his hard gaze to Bayliss, “neglecting to inform the commander and myself of the operation exceeds that authority.”
“Sir.” Bayliss started to get to his feet, but Tibble gestured him down.
Good move, Eve mused. Keep the little rodent in his place.
Bayliss kept his seat, but a faint wash of color stained his cheeks. “The Internal Affairs Bureau is allowed some leeway on technical procedure when it deems an investigation warrants secrecy. After consideration of the information, the suspicion of certain leaks and confirmation