J. Robb - Judgment in Death

"Who says it was loaded?"

"Was it?"

"Of course, but who's to say? Relax, Lieutenant. You brought him down."

"No, I didn't. You did."

"Compromise," he decided. "Which we've neglected to do just lately. We brought him down."

"I'll take that. One more thing. All that business about a man having this right and that right, and wanting your woman when you want her. That was just show, right?"

"Are you going to share that coffee?"

She moved it just a little farther out of reach. "No. It was just show. Right?"

"Well, now, let me think. It might be nice to have the little woman puttering about the house and meeting me at the door of an evening, after a hard day's business, with a smile and a drink. That's a lovely image, isn't it?"

He turned to see her snarling at him and laughed. "How long before we'd be bored brainless with it, do you figure?"

"It's a good thing you said that before I wasted this very nice coffee by pouring it into your lap. But I'm still not sharing it."

When they turned into hospital parking, she shifted on her seat to face him. "It's going to take several days to close this Ricker business and hand it over to the PA. His psych evaluation is going to be one big mess, seeing as he's loon crazy."

"He'll end up in a mental defective prison unit."

"Oh yeah, and believe me, they're no picnic. Anyway, we've got a lot of people to interview, and I can't calculate how many of his businesses and properties to search and seize. I'm letting Martinez take the bulk of it, but I'm still going to be tied up for awhile. If you can put off the trip you need to take to Olympus, I'd like to go with you."

He pulled into a slot, stopped the car. "You'd voluntarily take off several days? Not only that, but go off planet without me having to drug you?"

"I said I'd like to go with you. If you're going to make a big deal out of it, we can just-"

"Quiet down." He leaned over, kissed her sulky mouth. "I'll put it off until we can go together."

"Okay. Good." She climbed out of the car. Stretched. "Look, there's some whattayacallems."

"Daffodils," he said and caught her hand in his. "Daffodils, Eve. It's spring."

"Finally feels like it, too."

She kept her hand in his as they walked into the hospital, and all the way to Webster's tiny room.

His face wasn't gray as it had been the last time she'd been there, but it wasn't pink with health, either. Instead, it was as white as the bandages stretched across his chest.

She felt a trip of alarm cut into her cheerful mood as he lay, silent and still.

"I thought they said he was awake."

Even as she said it, in a sickroom whisper, Webster's eyes fluttered open. They stayed dazed for a moment with the baffled, vulnerable look of the very ill. Then, as they focused the faintest glint of humor shot into them. "Hey."

She had to step closer; his voice was pitifully thin.

"You didn't have to bring the guard dog. I'm too weak to make a half-decent pass at you."

"You never worried me in that area, Webster."

"I know. Damn it. Thanks for coming."

"It's okay. It's not much out of my way."

He started to laugh, lost his breath, then just lay there concentrating on finding it again.

"You stupid bastard." She said it with enough passion to bring that baffled look back on his face.

"Huh?"

"You think I can't handle myself? That I need some idiot IAB moron half-ass to knock me down and stick out his chest for a knife?"

"No." The humor was coming back. "I don't know what got into me."

"If you'd stuck with the streets instead of getting fat and happy behind a stupid desk, you wouldn't be lying here. And when you're on your feet, I'm going to put you right back in the hospital."

"That'll be fun. Give me something to look forward to. Did you get him? They won't tell me a damn thing in here."

"No. No, I didn't get him."

"Shit." He closed his eyes again. "That's on me."

"Oh, shut up." She stalked to the tiny window, fisted her hands on her hips, while she tried to calm down.

In her place, Roarke moved to the side of the bed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

And that was all they needed to say on the subject.

"We got Ricker," Eve continued, as her anger abated. "Took him down last night."

"What? How?" Webster tried to sit up, couldn't even lift his head. And swore with as much energy as he could muster.

"It's a long story. I'll fill you in some other time. But we got him, solid, and have his lawyer on the hot seat for good measure, and a dozen of his men."

She turned back, walked to the bed. "He's going to stay in MD status by the looks of things, and we're going to take his organization apart, piece by piece."

"I can help. Do some of the data searches, run scans. Let me in on this. I'll go crazy in here with nothing to do."

"Stop, you're breaking my heart." Then she shrugged. "I'll think about it."

"Come on, you know you'll cave on it. You feel sorry for me." He managed a grin. "And I should tell you, both of you, so there's no baggage, I'm pretty much on the way to getting over you."

"That really adds to my peace of mind, Webster."

"It does a lot for mine. Only took getting sliced in half, more or less. Nothing like a good coma to give a guy the opportunity to put things in perspective."

His eyes drooped, nearly shut before he fought them open again. "Man, the meds just knock you out."

"So, get some sleep. Word gets out you're coming around, you'll have plenty of company. You'll need all the rest you can manage."

"Yeah, but wait." He was losing it, struggling to hold out another minute. "I gotta ask you a question. Did you come in before?"

"Before what?"

"Come on, Dallas. Before now. Did you come in and talk to me?"

"Maybe I dropped in to see what an idiot looked like. Why?"

" 'Cause I had this dream. Maybe a dream. You were standing over me. I was just floating and you were standing there, ragging my ass. Ever tell you how sexy you look when you're ragging ass?"

"Jesus."

"Sorry, a little re… residual lust. D'ya say you'd spit on my grave?"

"Yeah. I will, too, if you try to cash out again."

He gave a weak chuckle. "Who's the idiot? Not gonna have a grave. You gotta be rich or religious these days for that. Recycle and cremation, thatsa way to go. Return and burn. Sure nice to hear your voice though. Made me think I'd prob'ly get bored floating. Gotta go. Tired."

"Yeah, you go on." And because he was asleep, and Roarke would understand, she gave his hand a little pat. "He'll be okay."

"Yes, he'll be okay."

"I think he was glad you came along." She pushed a hand through her hair. "Return and burn. What a jerk. But I guess he's right. Graves are out of style, mostly. Except… Oh no." She whirled to Roarke. "I am such an idiot. Rich or religious. I know where he'll go, where he'll go to end it. You drive."

She was already out of the room, running down the hall.

"His son's grave."

"Yeah, yeah." She yanked out her PPC. "Where the hell is it? They'd have one. People who have religious statues in the living room want to bury their dead and put crosses up."

"I'll find it faster." He had his own unit out as they hit the elevator. "Call your backup."

"No, no backup, not yet. I have to find him first, to be sure. Son's name was Thad. Thadeus Clooney."

"I've got it. Three plots, Sunlight Memorial. New Rochelle."

"Near the house. Makes sense." She exchanged her PPC for her communicator as she strode across the lobby and out to the lot. "Peabody. Listen up."

"Sir? Dallas?"

"Wake up, get dressed. You're on call." She climbed into the car. "I want you to get a squad car, have it and an officer ready to transport you. I'm following a lead on Clooney. If it pans out, I'll contact you. I want you to move fast."