The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [354]
She would keep her team as small and tight as possible.
Feeney. She couldn’t do without Feeney. He was currently chowing down on one of his favored danishes while he argued with McNab about some Arena Ball player named Snooks.
EDD ace Ian McNab didn’t look like somebody who’d get riled up about Arena Ball. Then again, he didn’t look like a cop either. He was wearing purple leather-look pants, pegged tight as tourniquets at the ankles to show off his low-rider purple gel-sneaks. His shirt was purple stripes and snug enough to show off his narrow torso and bony shoulders. He’d pulled his blond hair back in a relatively simple braid that hung between his angel-wing shoulder blades, but had made up for the simplicity with a jungle of silver hoops that curved along his left ear.
Though he had a pretty face, narrow and smooth and set off by clever green eyes, he didn’t look like the type the sturdy and steady Peabody would go for. But she did, and in a big way.
You could see what was between them in the casual way his hand brushed Peabody’s knee, the way she jabbed him with her elbow when he tried to take her pastry.
And the proof that love was in bloom when Peabody broke the pastry in half and gave it to him.
She needed them, the three of them, and the man—her man—who sipped his coffee and waited for her to start the show.
And once she did, she put them all at risk.
“If everyone’s finished their little coffee break, there’s a little matter of a double homicide to discuss.”
“Got your EDD report there.” Feeney nodded toward the disc packet he’d put on her desk. “Every one of the units—house, gallery, studio—was fried. Total corruption. I got some ideas on how to regenerate and access data, but it’s not going to be easy, and it’s not going to be quick. Easier and quicker with the use of some of the equipment our civilian consultant has at his disposal.”
“Then it’s at yours,” Roarke said and had Feeney beaming in anticipation.
“I can have a retrieval team here in an hour, with the units. We’ll set up a network and—”
“That’s not going to be possible,” Eve interrupted. “I need to ask you to personally transport a sampling of the units here. Those that remain at Central will require top-level security. They have to be moved from the pen, Feeney. ASAP.”
“Dallas, electronics isn’t your area, but even you should be able to figure out how long it’s going to take me to work this magic on more’n a dozen units. I can’t be hauling them over here a couple at a time, and without a retrieval team, six-man minimum, we’re looking at days, if not weeks before we pull out anything readable.”
“It can’t be helped. The nature of the investigation has changed. Information has come into my hands that confirms involvement and possible participation in these murders by the Homeland Security Organization.”
There was a moment of absolute silence, then McNab’s excited response. “Spooks? Oh baby, ultimately iced.”
“This isn’t a vid, Detective, or some comp game where you play secret agent. Two people are dead.”
“With all respect, Lieutenant, they’re dead anyway.”
Since she couldn’t think of an argument for that, she ignored it. “I can’t reveal how this information came to me.” But she saw Feeney’s glance at Roarke, the speculation and the pride in it. “If it comes down to a court order demanding my source—as it very well may—I’ll lie. You need to know that up front. I’ll perjure myself without hesitation, not only to protect the source, but to maintain the integrity of this investigation, and to protect Reva Ewing, who I’m convinced is innocent.”
“I like the anonymous tip myself,” Feeney said easily. “Untraceable transmission of data. There’s a couple of ways to set that up on your unit right here so it’ll look like you got one. Should hold up against most tests.”
“That’s illegal,” Eve pointed out, and he smiled.
“Just talking out loud.”