Nora Roberts - Promises in Death

Callendar let out a whistle. “Boy howdy, I’d jump, roll, and stand up and beg.”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about.” He spoke directly to Callendar now as little beads of sweat formed on his upper lip. “Hand to God, I never killed anybody. I don’t know anything about killing a cop. Why would I do that?”

“I hear you.” Callendar gave his arm a sympathetic pat. “But-and I’m sort of sorry to say it, under the circumstances-you were chummy with Max Ricker. I found the data myself. Feel kinda responsible for what’s going down now. But, you know, I just did my job. The doctored logs, the toss-away ’link in your quarters. The text message. Plus… oh south of France!” Callendar looked at Eve as if she’d just understood. “The transmissions with the ex-wife!”

“Which puts her ass in the same sling. She’s being picked up right now, and that’s conspiracy to murder on her, in addition to the tax fraud, money laundering, bribery, and the host of others.”

“Luanne didn’t have anything to do with it. She just did like I said. What the hell is this?”

“Max Ricker ordered the assassination of a police officer, one Detective Amaryllis Coltraine, through the ’link you provided him. You took payment from him. Multiple payments, which we’ve now documented. You arranged for the visitor’s log to be altered, and for the transmissions sent and received by Ricker to be eliminated from record. You handed him the fucking weapon that took Coltraine’s life.

“Look at me, at me !” she snapped when he turned desperately to Callendar. “I knew Coltraine. Believe me when I tell you I have a personal stake in this, that I won’t give a goddamn if you and your greedy ex spend the rest of your useless lives in a cage. In fact, I’ll have a small celebration over that fact daily. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

Callendar made sure her gulp was audible. “Wow. Me, too.”

“Here’s the deal. Onetime offer, and I hope you’re too stupid to take it. The conspiracy charges will be dropped on you, and on your wife, if you confess to the charges of bribery and collusion, to altering records. You’ll do ten to fifteen, on-planet, provided you cooperate and tell us everything you know regarding Ricker’s communications.”

“Ten to fifteen on-planet’s cake compared to life without parole on Omega.” Callendar gave Rouche another little pat on the arm. “If I were you, I’d sing like a bird on a spring morning. What do you think?”

Rouche wiped his sweaty lip with the back of his hand. He cleared his throat. And he sang.

When it was done, Callendar stood outside interview with Eve. “That rocked. Seriously. He just popped open and poured it out like… something that pops and has stuff in it. I’m really tired.”

“Go home, get some sleep. You did solid work here.”

“I am so all over that. Hey, Peabody. I helped Dallas cook the turkey. See ya.”

“She looks beat, so did Sisto. But we cooked our own turkey.”

“We’ll compare notes.” She nodded to Reo as Reo came out of observation. “Walk and talk. We need… Morris.”

“He’s an idiot. A greedy idiot. And that greed and stupidity helped kill her.”

“I know ten to fifteen may not seem like enough, it may not seem like-”

“No.” He interrupted, shook his head. “It’s enough. For him.”

“You can go with Reo. The two of you and Mira can watch the next phase. We’ve got a room set up for you.” She pulled out her communicator when it signaled, noted it was Baxter. “You go on ahead. We’re nearly ready to start.”

She waited until Morris was out of hearing before she answered. “Tell me.”

“A whole shitload of cash money, credit cards and IDs in fake names, more passcodes, which I’m reading as bank accounts. Unregistered ’link and PPC, not yet activated. And the money shot, Dallas: Coltraine’s ring.”

“Bag it, log it, bring it. You earned your doughnuts today, Baxter.”

“Fry her ass, Dallas.”

“You can depend on it.”

She clicked off Baxter to tag Feeney. “Did she bite?”

“Not a nibble on the ’links.”

“How about her unit?”

“Through the passcode and fail-safe-she has some skills, but I’ve got more. I’m just starting on the data.”

“Plan B, then. Roarke?”

“Ask him yourself. Hey, hotshot, your wife wants you.”

Eve winced at “your wife,” then shrugged it off as Roarke came on. “Hello, darling.”

“Don’t do that. I’m clocking time. Did you hook it up?”

“Ready when you are. And let me just say this is a brilliant idea on so many levels. I’m pleased to have a hand in it.”

“Thought you would be. I’ll beep you twice when I’m ready.”

“I like ‘darling,’ ” Peabody commented. “It’s old-fashioned and romantic. Especially with the accent.”

“Peabody.”

“Just thinking out loud. So can we fry her now?”

“Right now.”

When she reached the conference room, she stopped to give the uniforms new orders. “She won’t get past me, but on the off chance she does, take her down.”

She walked into the conference room. Grady sat at the conference table, drinking coffee, studying the screen. Looking, Eve thought, very pleased with herself.

“I was just about to hunt for you. I think I might have something.”

“Funny, I have something, too. You helped me get to it.”

“Yeah?” Genuine pleasure lit Cleo’s face. “Can I be there when you arrest the fucker?”

“Front and center. Do you think it comes down in the blood?” Eve asked conversationally. “You know, bad blood begets bad blood? I think that’s a cop-out myself. You’re in the job long enough, you see it’s not that simple. You see people who come from shit and crawl out of it to make a decent life. Others who come from decent and crawl into the shit. Because they like it. Then again, Ricker’s blood’s partially foul.”

“Alex Ricker doesn’t have his father’s brains. He’s just been coattailing. No offense, but somebody was going to nail him sooner or later.”

“Maybe. His problem was getting stuck on the woman. Not enough to make him change his ways, but enough to mess him up. Guy’s got a soft streak in there, sentimental, I guess. Men.” She shook her head. “They think they’re stronger, tougher than women. We know better. The coldest killers I’ve known have been female.

“But back to blood. I’m curious. Were you a cold, murderous bitch before you knew you had Ricker’s blood, or did you turn into one after? Don’t answer yet,” Eve continued as Grady rose slowly. “Let’s deal with the formalities. Cleo Grady, you’re under arrest for the murder of Amaryllis Coltraine, the murder of Rod Sandy. Other charges include-”

Even as Cleo reached for her weapon, Eve reached for hers. They drew together.

“I’d love to do it,” Eve said. “I’d feel joy in my heart watching you drop. But maybe you’ll drop me. Maybe. Then my partner, who’s got her weapon at your back will drop you. You’re not walking out of this room, Grady. Lower your weapon, or you’ll get a taste of what you gave Coltraine.”

“Mine’s on full. You go down, you won’t get up.”

“Maybe. My partner’s still going to drop you. Put down your weapon.”

“The fuck I will. You move away from-”

Eve fired. Her weapon was on its lowest setting and did no more than jolt Cleo, sent her stumbling back as her own weapon clattered to the floor. “That felt good. Small of me, but damn, that felt good. Got her weapon secured, Peabody?”

“Yes, sir, I do. And it felt good over here, too.”

“Hands behind your back, Cleo.” Eve secured her own weapon, took out her restraints. “Oh, and please make a try for the door,” she invited, “so I have an excuse to kick your ass.”