The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [375]
He sat, buried his head in his hands. “Sometimes the badge can’t come first.”
She understood love now, and the terror it could bring to you. “Did you tell your boss?”
“I didn’t tell anybody. It’s been eating at me for months.” He sat, continued to lean over, while his fingers kept raking through his close-cropped hair. “I’m working private security at night, playing down in that idiot workshop half the day making birdhouses. I’m going crazy here.”
Eve sat beside him, leaned in. “Help me get them. Help me put them away where they can’t touch your family.”
“I can’t ever go back to the job.” He lowered his hands. “I can’t ever pick up a badge again. And I can’t be sure just how far they can reach out.”
“Nothing you tell me goes in a report, official or otherwise. Tell me about the droid; give me a line here.”
“Hell.” He rubbed his eyes. For weeks he’d lived with doing nothing, with backing down, with the fear. “Six two, two ten. Caucasian, brown and brown. Sharp features. Top-line model. Combat trained.”
“I met his brother,” she said with a thin smile. “What buttons were you pushing when the threats started?”
“I’d shaken out some slime from the black market, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Nothing I’d run on the victim turned up anything that made it look like a personal hit. I went in circles awhile, but I kept coming back to how it was done. So goddamn neat, right?”
“Yeah, very neat and tidy.”
“There’s a free clinic a few blocks from the crime scene. The victim had been in there a few times. I interviewed the rotation doctors, ran them. It looked like a dead end, too. But it didn’t feel like one,” he added, relaxing a little when Eve nodded.
“I started circling out, hitting other med centers, cross-checking surgeons. I started scratching at the Nordic Clinic, and the next thing I know, the boss calls me in and says that fathead Waylan’s making noises about harassment, entrapment, Christ knows what, and demanding that we show some respect for the medical community. Shit.”
“Waylan. He cropped up on my watch, too.”
“Damn embarrassment to the state,” Will began. “Karen’s the one who gets into politics. Don’t get her started on Waylan.” For the first time, he grinned, and his face looked abruptly younger. “In this house, we hate him. Anyhow, I figured there was something there, too. What the hell does he care—except he’s got relatives in the AMA. I’m starting to check it out, then I’m blind-sided, flat on my back, and the goddamn droid’s got a laser at my throat.”
He sighed, rose to pace. “I was going to tell my boss, put it in the report, but on my next shift, I get called upstairs. Commander tells me that there’s more complaints about the tone of my investigation. I’m not getting support from the brass; instead, they’re warning me to watch my step, don’t step on the wrong toes. Ease back, it was only scum that got taken out, anyway. Don’t hassle nice people. Rich, powerful people,” McRae said, turning back. “Pissed me off. That’s when I decided to send my family away and dig in deeper. Until I got the pictures, then I folded. Faced with the same choice, I’d do the same thing again.”
“I’m not going to beat you up over it, Will. I don’t have what you have to risk. The way I look at it, you took it as far as you could, for as long as you could.”
“I gave up my badge.” His voice cracked, and she watched him suck it in. “They took yours.”
He needed something, she thought, and worked up a smile for him. “We got fucked either way, didn’t we.”
“Yeah. We got fucked royal, Dallas.”
“I’m going to ask you to give me anything you can, and maybe we can return the favor. Did you copy any of your files?”
“No. But I remember a lot of it. I’ve been going over the details in my head for months. I’ve written some of it down for myself.” He glanced over his shoulder as he heard his wife’s voice. “Karen doesn’t know anything about this. I don’t want her upset.”
“Give me the name of somebody you put away who’s been sprung.”
“Drury. Simon Drury.”
“I’m here about Drury.” She glanced over, lifted