The hot licks in her stomach had grown and were burning like acid. “You want me to investigate fellow officers. One of which is dead, leaving a grieving family behind. The other of which was my trainer and is my friend.” She put her hands on the desk. “Is your friend.”
He’d expected the anger, accepted it. Just as he expected she would do the job. He wouldn’t accept less. “Would you prefer I gave this to someone who didn’t care?” His brow lifted on the question. “I want this done quietly, with each piece of evidence and all investigative records sealed for my eyes only. It may be necessary for you to speak with DS Wojinski’s family at some point. I trust you will do so discreetly and tactfully. There is no need to add to their grief.”
“And if I turn something up that smears a lifetime of public service?”
“That will be for me to deal with.”
She straightened. “It’s a hell of a thing you’re asking me to do.”
“Ordering you to do,” Whitney corrected. “That should make it easier, Lieutenant. On you.” He handed her two sealed discs. “View these on your home unit. Any and all transmissions on this matter are to be sent from your home unit to my home unit. Nothing is to go through Cop Central until I tell you differently. Dismissed.”
She turned on her heel, walked to the door. There she paused but didn’t look back. “I won’t roll over on Feeney. Damned if I will.”
Whitney watched her stride out, then closed his eyes. She would do what needed to be done, he knew. He only hoped it wasn’t more than she could live with.
Her temper was bubbling by the time she got back to her own office. Peabody sat in front of the monitor, smirking.
“Just about got it knocked. Your unit’s a real whiner, Dallas, but I’ve been slapping it into shape.”
“Disengage,” Eve snapped and grabbed up her jacket and bag. “Get your gear, Peabody.”
“We’ve got a case?” Revving up, Peabody jumped out of the chair and hustled after Eve. “What kind of case? Where are we going?” She broke into a trot to keep up. “Dallas? Lieutenant?”
Eve slapped the control on the elevator, and the single furious look she shot at Peabody was enough to stifle any further questions. Eve stepped into the elevator, shuffled into position with several noisy cops, and stood in stony silence.
“Hey, Dallas, how’s the newlywed? Why don’t you get your rich husband to buy the Eatery and stock some real food.”
She flicked a steely glare over her shoulder, stared into a face of a grinning cop. “Bite me, Carter.”
“Hey, I gave that a shot three years ago, and you nearly broke all my teeth. Holding out for a civilian,” he said when laughter erupted.
“Holding out for somebody who isn’t the major asshole of Robbery,” someone else put in.
“Better than being the minor one, Forenski. Hey, Peabody,” Carter continued. “Want me to bite you?”
“Is your dental plan up to date?”
“I’ll check on that and get back to you.” With a wink, Carter and several others piled out.
“Carter puts the moves on anything female,” Peabody said conversationally, worried that Eve continued to stare straight ahead. “Too bad he’s an asshole.” No response. “Ah, Forenski’s kind of cute,” Peabody continued. “He doesn’t have a steady personal partner, does he?”
“I don’t poke
into the private lives of fellow officers,” Eve snapped back, and strode out onto the garage level.
“You don’t mind poking into mine,” Peabody said under her breath. She waited while Eve uncoded her car locks, then climbed into the passenger seat. “Am I to log in destination, sir, or is it a surprise?” Then she blinked when Eve simply laid her head against the wheel. “Hey, are you all right? What’s going on, Dallas?”
“Log in home office.” Eve drew a breath, straightened. “I’ll fill you in on the way. All information you’re given and all records on the ensuing investigation are to be coded and sealed.” Eve maneuvered out of the garage and onto the street. “All said information and records are confidential. You are to report only to me or the commander.”
“Yes, sir.” Peabody swallowed the obstruction that had lodged in her throat. “It’s internal, isn’t it? It’s one of us.”
“Yeah. Goddamn it. It’s one of us.”
Her home unit didn’t have the eccentricities of her official computer. Roarke had seen to that. The data scrolled smoothly on-screen.
“Detective Marion Burns. She’s been undercover at The Athame for eight months, working as a bartender.” Eve pursed her lips. “Burns. I don’t know her.”
“I do, slightly.” Peabody scooted her chair a bit closer to Eve’s. “I met her when I was…you know, during the Casto thing. She struck me as a solid, eyes-on-the-job sort. If memory serves, she’s third generation cop. Her mother’s still on the job. Captain, I think, in Bunko. Her grandfather went out line of duty during the Urban Wars. I don’t know why she’d have fingered DS Wojinski.”