"Haggerty, Clarence Haggerty. Or so he told me at the time. Imagine my shock when I discovered his purpose was not, as he told me, to frighten away by show of force, a woman who was endangering his family."
"I'm trying to do just that," Eve said mildly. "I guess having him grab some innocent kid and hold a stunner to his throat where it could cause permanent paralysis or death, seemed like a fine way to frighten me."
"It happened so fast. I was shocked when he grabbed the boy. I'm afraid my reaction was slow. Obviously Haggerty-or whoever he was-was not the man I believed him to be. Anyone who would endanger a child in that manner…"
He trailed off, sadly shaking his head. "I'm quite glad you killed him, Lieutenant." He smiled again. "I can't begin to tell you how glad I am."
"I'm sure you're dancing." She leaned forward. "Do you really think this lame story is going to fly, Riggs?"
"Why shouldn't it? If you require any documentation to corroborate my brief employment by Mr. Haggerty, I'll be happy to supply it. I keep excellent records."
"I'll just bet you do."
"This, of course, in no way negates my responsibility for what took place. I will, no doubt, lose my security license. I face a prison term, or at the very least home incarceration. I'm prepared to take my punishment, as the law demands."
"You work for Max Ricker."
"I'm afraid I don't recall the name. If a Mr. Ricker has hired me as a consultant at any time, it would be in my records. I'll be happy to sign an authorization so that you can search those records."
"You're looking at twenty-five years, Riggs. Minimum."
"I hope the courts won't be too harsh, as I was unaware of the true purpose when I was hired. And I certainly did nothing to harm that little boy. I was duped." He lifted his hands, his face still placid. "But I stand prepared to accept the punishment due me."
"You figure that's better than ending up like Lewis."
"I'm sorry? Do I know a Lewis?"
"He's worm food. And we both know Ricker may cut his losses with you so you end up the same."
"I just don't understand, Lieutenant. I'm sorry."
"Let's run it through again, in words of one syllable."
She worked him for more than an hour, shifting over to Feeney to change the pace, coming back hard, leading in soft.
Riggs never broke a sweat, never varied his story by an iota. It was, she thought, like interrogating a goddamn droid with perfect programming.
"Get him out of here," Eve ordered in disgust, then stalked out of the room.
"This guy won't roll," she said when Feeney joined her. "Ricker sent brains this time. But Riggs wasn't completely in control. He didn't expect that creep to grab the kid. So while he's got brains, there's no saying the others do. I want to double the guards on the two in the hospital, get an update on their condition."
"Riggs gets a decent lawyer, using that line, holds to it, won't even do five years."
"I know it, and so does he. Self-satisfied son of a bitch. Let's get a run on the two in the hospital, find a level."
"I'll take that. We don't need the smoke now, so I'd as soon work out of my office."
"Okay. I'm going to go write this up, then head home. I've got some lines to tug on that end."
– =O=-***-=O=-
By the time she was finished, it was well after shift. She cut Peabody loose, then headed down to the garage. Her leg hurt, which pissed her off. Her head throbbed, which was only a minor annoyance.
But when she reached her parking level and saw the condition of her vehicle, she was ready to spit rock.
"Goddamn it. Goddamn it."
She'd had this unit-one that actually worked-for less than eight months. It was ugly, had already been wrecked once and repaired, but it was hers, and she'd kept it in decent shape.
Now the hood, the trunk, the doors on both sides were smashed in, the tires slashed, and the rear glass looked like it had been attacked by lasers.
And all, she thought, in a police garage with full security cams.
"Whoa." Baxter strolled up behind her. "I heard you had a little trouble earlier, but didn't know you'd wrecked your vehicle. Maintenance isn't going to be happy with you."
"I didn't wreck it. How the hell did somebody walk in here and beat the crap out of my ride?" She took another step toward it, and Baxter grabbed her arm.
"Let's just keep some distance. Call the bomb squad. You've got a very temperamental enemy at the moment. Could be rigged."
"You're right. Yeah, you're right. If it blows up, they'll never issue me another one. They hate me in Requisitions."
– =O=-***-=O=-
It wasn't rigged, and she managed to cop four new tires. Because Baxter called down for them and sweet-talked Maintenance. While they were being changed and two crabby Maintenance men were doing something to the doors to make them open and close again, she checked with Garage Security.
A blip, she was told, in the disc run.
"What's the verdict?" Baxter asked when she came back.
"A blip, fifteen minutes of snow and blocked audio. This level only. They didn't notice." Her eyes narrowed into tawny glints. "I guarantee they'll notice the next time. You didn't have to hang, Baxter."
"This may be your game, Dallas, but we all want part of the ball. You should take something for that leg. You're limping."
"I am not." She sighed as she wrenched open her dented car door. "Thanks."
"Don't I get a kiss good-bye?"
"Sure, honey. Come on over here."
He laughed, backed away. "You'll hit me. You heading home?"
"Yeah."
He wandered to his vehicle. "I'm heading uptown, myself." He said it casually and didn't fool her for a minute. "I'll follow you up."
"I don't need a baby-sitter."
"I'm heading uptown," he said and got in his car.
She wanted to be annoyed with him but couldn't quite pull it off. On the drive, she stayed alert, watching for tails, preparing for ambush. Other than her vehicle making ominous whining noises when she got over thirty miles an hour, and thumping ones when she turned left, the trip home was uneventful.
She waved Baxter off at her gates, figured she'd raid Roarke's liquor supply for a bottle of unblended scotch as payment for the favor.
She wanted a drink herself, she thought as she walked up the front steps. A nice cool glass of wine, maybe a quick swim to work out the kinks.
She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
"I assume," Summerset began while the cat streaked between his legs to greet Eve, "you've been involved in some sort of vehicular accident."
"You assume incorrectly. My unit was involved in some sort of vehicular accident." She bent, picked up Galahad, and found a little comfort by rubbing her cheek against his fur. "Where's Roarke?"
"He is not yet home for the evening. If you had consulted his schedule, you'd be aware he isn't expected for another hour. Those trousers are ruined."
"People keep telling me that." She set the cat down, stripped off her jacket, and tossed it over the newel post. She walked past him, intended to go down to the pool house.
"You're limping."
She kept going, but she did indulge herself in a single short scream.
– =O=-***-=O=-
The swim helped, and once she was alone and naked, she took a good look at the wound on her leg. The MT had done a good job, she had to admit. It was healing up well, even if it did ache like hell.
There were a number of scrapes and bruises to go along with it. Some of which, she decided, she'd gotten during the jungle sex with Roarke. It didn't seem so bad when she backed those out of the mix. Feeling better, she tugged on a robe and, giving in to her knee, took the elevator up to the bedroom.
And coming out, nearly rapped straight into Roarke on the point of going in.
"Hello, Lieutenant. I was coming down to join you."
"I took a long swim, but I could sit and watch you take one. If you're naked."
"Why don't we take one together later?" He drew her into the bedroom. "What happened to your car?"