The In Death Collection Books 26-29 - J.D. Robb [565]
“I’ll take your view on it.”
“He could get a look at his work, close-up, another pat on the back from himself to himself.” Adjusting his speed, Roarke snuck through a light on the yellow. “He delivers some flowers, gives her a study. And I’ll wager hoped to take himself some photos that he’d look back on fondly.”
“Goddamn it. Goddamn it, that’s exactly what he’d do.” She dragged a hand through her hair, pulled. “I missed it.”
“Easy to see it from this side, analyzing the whys after the fact. His youth is part of it—caution and impulse—and it’s most likely she’s his first kill. This is his mission, and he’d be careful not to risk it. Now, he’s got the makings for a nice scrapbook.”
“Let’s keep this between us, for now. I let MacMasters on the team. He doesn’t need to hear this.”
“Is that wise, letting him on?”
“I’m going to find out.”
She took her time getting to the conference room. She wanted everyone assembled when she arrived. She moved in briskly, walking to the front of the room, waiting while Roarke took his seat.
“Captain MacMasters is joining this team, as of now. I’ll be taking individual reports and analyses. Before I do, I want the individual who shared the sketch of the suspect with Detective Cunningham, and possibly others, to identify himself.”
She didn’t need a raised hand, a confession, not when she saw Officer Flang’s eyes cut away.
“Flang, explain yourself.”
“Lieutenant, I was just trying to help. It was getting really crowded in there, and the more eyes we had—”
“Did I or did I not give a direct order regarding this, Officer, when you brought up the issue in the pre-op briefing?”
“Yes, sir, but—”
“I have to assume, Officer, that you considered yourself more capable of leading today’s operation than me, that you believe your judgment superior to mine.”
“No, sir, I just thought—”
“You thought it was acceptable to disobey a direct order from a superior officer. You’re mistaken. You’re on report, Officer Flang, and you are dismissed.”
“Lieutenant—”
“Don’t speak.” Her order chilled the room as Flang visibly withered under her stare. “Further, if one more drop—a single drop—of this leak slides out of the pipe, I will see to it that you’re charged with obstruction of justice. I want a list of every name with whom you shared this information on my desk inside fifteen minutes. Now, I repeat, Officer, you are dismissed.”
The room was silent as a tomb as Flang left.
“If anyone else believes their judgment is better than mine, or that following orders is optional, there’s the door.” She waited two beats, let the silence hum. “Now, we’re going to go over every step of this clusterfuck from every angle, then we’ll outline, streamline, refine and re-refine the op for tomorrow.
“Feeney. Security.”
21
WELL INTO THE EVENING, WITH EVERY POSSIBLE contingency addressed, dissected, and readdressed, Eve walked through the doors of home with Roarke.
Summerset, looming as usual, cocked an eyebrow. “I see you’ve had your monthly facial, Lieutenant.”
“Trina will be here tomorrow. Maybe she can decorpse yours.”
Eve scowled her way up the steps. “Damn it, that was weak. His was better. His was good. Just one more thing to be pissed about.”
“I’m surprised you have the energy to bicker. I want an hour in the whirlpool.”
She rolled her tense shoulders, and winced as the movement sent something new throbbing. “That sounds good. I’ve got aches making themselves known all over.”
“Start the tub, why don’t you, and we’ll both have a whirl. I’m getting us both a very big glass of wine.”
“We covered it all.” She went into the bathroom to order on the water, the temperature. As the wide scoop of tub began to fill, she went over the steps and stages of tomorrow’s operation.
“I can’t think of anything we left out. It’s a smaller space, more controlled. No excess civilians. As long as Mrs. Mimoto