J. Robb - Betrayal in Death

Something crashed behind them as a table was bumped. Stowe didn't look around, but she began to slide her drink around the table at geometric angles. "I don't know how to explain it. She was irresistible, and everything I wasn't. Warm, open, funny. Oh, God."

Grief, horribly fresh still, spurted through her. Stowe closed her eyes tight, grabbed for control. She took her time now, sipped the potent liquor in her glass. "She made me her friend. I still don't think I had a damn thing to say about it. She just… was. It changed me. She changed me. Opened me up to things. Fun and foolishness. I could talk to her about anything, or not talk at all. She was the turning point in my life, and so much more than that. She was my best friend."

Finally, Stowe lifted her gaze, met Eve's eyes. "My best friend. Do you understand what that means?"

"Yeah, I understand what it means."

Stowe nodded, closed her eyes again, steadied herself. "After graduation, she moved to Paris to work. She wanted to make a difference, and she wanted to experience while she was at it. I visited her there a few times. She had this pretty flat in the city and knew everyone in the building. She had a little goofy-looking dog she called Jacques and a dozen men in love with her. She lived huge, and she worked hard. She loved her job, the glamour, and the politics. Whenever her work brought her to East Washington, we'd get together. We could go months without seeing each other, then when we did, it was like we'd never been apart. Just that easy. We were both doing what we wanted, both moving up in our careers. It was perfect.

"About a week before… before it ended, she called me. I was on a field assignment, and didn't get the message for a few days. She didn't say a lot, just that something was going on. Something odd, and she needed to talk to me. She looked and sounded angry, with a little worry at the edges. Told me not to contact her at work, and not on her home 'link. She gave me a portable number, a new one. I thought that was weird, but I wasn't really concerned. It was late when I got in, so I decided to get back to her the next day, and went to bed. I just went to bed and slept like a goddamn baby. Fuck."

She lifted her glass again, drank deeper this time. "I got an early buzz in the morning, some complication with the case I was handling. I had to go in, and I didn't take the time to get in touch with Winnie before I left. It wasn't until the next day I even remembered about it. I took a minute to call the number she'd given me, but I didn't get a response. And I didn't follow through. I was busy, so I shrugged it off and told myself I'd try later. I never got the chance."

"She was already dead," Eve filled in.

"Yeah. She was already dead. They found her beaten and raped and strangled and dumped on the side of a road outside the city. She died two days after I got her message. Two days when I might have helped her. I never called her back. She would have gotten back to me, no matter what. She would never have been too busy to help me."

"So you accessed her case file and buried your connection to her."

"The Bureau frowns on personal involvement. They'd never have put me on Yost if they'd known why I wanted him."

"Does your partner know?"

"Jacoby's the last person I'd tell. What are you going to do?"

Eve studied Stowe's face. "I have a friend. Met her when I busted her for grifting. I never had a friend before her. If anyone hurt her, I'd hunt them down if it took the rest of my life."

Stowe drew in a shaky breath, had to look away. "Okay," she managed. "Okay."

"But understanding where you're coming from doesn't mean you get off free. Your partner's a jerk and a fuck-up, I'm betting you're not. And I'm betting you're smart enough to have thought it through now and admit that if you hadn't gotten in the way, that son of a bitch Yost would be in a cage now."

It was hard, almost painful to look back and face it. "I know it. And that's on me as much as Jacoby. I wanted to be the one to take him, and I wanted it enough to risk losing him. I won't make the same mistake again."

"Then show me your cards. Your friend worked at the Embassy. What did you find out there?"

"Next to nothing. It's hard enough to dig under the walls of politics and protocol in your own country. Try it as a foreigner. Initially, the French authorities put her death on a lover's quarrel. Like I said, she had a lot of men. But that was a wash. I looked into that myself. When they ran for like crimes, they hit on Yost. But after they looked around, they put it down to copycat."

"Why?"

"First place, she was clean. Squeaky. No connections with anything that would have drawn down a contract on her. And none of the men she'd been involved with could have afforded his fee, and if they could have, they just weren't the type. She didn't leave lovers bleeding, it wasn't Winnie's style. She was upset when she called, and didn't want me contacting her at work, so I tried poking around there."

"And?"

"The best lead I got was that Winnie'd been assigned to interpret for the ambassador's son in some diplomatic deal with the Germans and the Americans on a multinational off planet project. New communications station. It involved a lot of meetings, a lot of travel, and was virtually all she'd been doing for three weeks before she died. I got the names of the main players, but when I tried to slide through and do a deep search I sent up a million flags. These are important, rich, and protected individuals. I had to back off. I push there too hard and I've got no chance to work on the Yost investigation."

"Give me the names."

"I'm telling you, you can't dig there."

"Just give me the names, I'll worry about when and how I dig."

Shrugging, Stowe dug a memo out of her bag and coded the names in. "Jacoby's fixated on you," she said as she handed the e-memo to Eve. "He has been since before we got here. If he can give you a few professional bruises while he brings Yost down, it'll make his life complete."

"Now, you're scaring me," Eve said with a wide smile as she pocketed the memo.

"He's got contacts, he's got sources. Deep ones. You ought to take him seriously."

"I take parasites very seriously. Now, here's the way it's going to be. Whatever data you've got, whatever leads, whatever angles, you send to my home unit. Tonight."

"For Christ's sake – "

"All of it," Eve said, edging forward. "Hold out on me, and I'll bury you before it's done. You keep me fully apprised of every move made, every source tapped, every thread tied."

"You know, I was actually starting to believe you just wanted him stopped. But it's the kick, isn't it? It's the glory at the end of the bust."

"I haven't finished," Eve said mildly. "You play that straight with me, and if I get to him first, I'll tag you. I'll do everything I can to make sure you're in on the takedown, and that you're the one to bring him in."

Stowe's lips trembled open, then firmed. "Winnie would have liked you." She stretched her arm across the little table, offered her hand. "Deal."

Eve got back in her vehicle, checked the time. It was nearly nine, which meant she couldn't manage to get all the way uptown, change into appropriate clothes for a fancy dinner, get back to midtown, and join Roarke's party by the deadline she'd given herself.

That left her two choices. She could do what she really wanted to do, ditch it, go home, take a hot shower, and wait for whatever data Stowe sent her to come through.

Or she could go to the Top of New York with its silver tables and staggering view of the city in her work clothes, sit with a bunch of people she had nothing much in common with, get home late, potentially cranky, and work until her eyes fell out of her head.