The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [10]
She turned away, looked at Nadine now. “Her mother went right down on her knees, collapsed like all the air had gone out of her body. You’ll have to run over there with your crew when we’re done. I’m sure you’ll get some good image for your story. That kind of thing, all that suffering, it really pumps the ratings.”
“This is uncalled for.” Carter snapped the words out. “This is intolerable. My client—”
“Be quiet, Carter.” Nadine reached down for her leather portfolio bag. “I want to speak with you in private, Lieutenant.”
“Nadine, I strongly advise—”
“Shut up, Carter. In private, Dallas.”
“All right.” She unplugged her recorder. “My office.”
She didn’t speak as they walked out, said nothing as they moved to the glide that would take them up to her division.
They moved into the bullpen, and the initial calls of greeting trickled into silence as both women moved straight through.
Eve’s office was small and spare, with a single narrow window. She shut the door, took the chair at her desk, and left the other, badly sprung chair, for Nadine.
But Nadine didn’t sit. What she’d seen, what she felt was clearly printed on her face. “You know me better. You know me better, and I didn’t deserve to be treated this way, didn’t deserve the things you said in there.”
“Maybe not, but you’re the one who pulled in a rep, you’re the one who jumped down my throat because I blocked you from a story.”
“Fuck it, Dallas, you arrested me.”
“I did not arrest you. I remanded you into custody for questioning. You’ve got no sheet out of this.”
“I don’t give a damn about the sheet.” Sick and furious, she shoved at the chair. It was a gesture Eve understood and respected, even as the flying seat caught her on the shin.
“I called you,” Nadine spat out. “I notified you when I was under no obligation to do so. Then you cut me out, you haul me in, and you treat me like a ghoul.”
“I didn’t cut you out, I did my job. I hauled you in because you have information I need, and you were being pissy.”
“I was being pissy?”
“Yeah, you were. Christ, I need coffee.” She pushed up and bumped past Nadine to her AutoChef. “And I was feeling pissy, so I didn’t take time for our usual dance. But for treating you like a ghoul, I’ll apologize, because I do know better. You want a hit of this?”
Nadine opened her mouth, closed it again. Then let out a puff of steam. “Yes. If you respected me—”
“Nadine.” Coffee in hand, Eve turned. “If I didn’t respect you, I’d have had a warrant in hand when I came into The Lounge.” She waited a beat. “Are you making it with that suit?”
Nadine sipped coffee. “As a matter of fact. I made copies of the printouts for you before I headed to Delancey—where I would have been considerably earlier if Red hadn’t nipped the fender of another car.” She drew them out of her bag.
“EDD’s going to need your ’link.”
“Yeah. I figured.” The battle was over, and they stood facing each other. Two women scraped raw by the job.
“She was a pretty girl,” Nadine commented. “Great smile.”
“So everyone says. This was taken while she was at work. You can just see the candy display. This one . . . subway, maybe. And this, I don’t know. A park somewhere. They’re not posed. Just as likely she didn’t know they were being taken.”
“He stalked her.”
“Could be. Now this. This is posed.”
She held up the last printout. Rachel was in a chair set against a white wall. Her legs were crossed, her hands neatly folded just above the knee. The lighting was soft, flattering. She wore the blue shirt and jeans she’d been found in. Her face was young and pretty, lips and cheeks rosy. And her eyes, that strong green, were empty.
“She’s dead, isn’t she? In this picture, she’s already dead.”
“Probably.