“A tip?” Eve prompted.
“Some photos of Coltraine and Ricker—hand-holding, lip-locking—landed on IAB’s desk.”
“Handy. Somebody wanted her roasted.”
“Probably. It doesn’t change the picture. IAB got the package about nine months before she requested transfer. They followed through on it, confirmed. While each maintained a separate residence, they essentially lived together in a third—a condo in Atlanta in a building owned by Max Ricker. Private entrance, private elevator, private garage. She could come and go with little risk of being seen. They also spent time together when she was off the roll. She traveled with him to Paris, London, Rome. He bought her jewelry, high-ticket items.”
“No high-ticket items in her place,” Eve put in. “No evidence she kept a lockbox anywhere.”
“She gave it all back when they split.”
“How do you know? You had her surveilled? You had the place wired?”
“I can’t confirm or deny. I’m telling you what I know.”
“If all this was going on, why didn’t IAB pull her in?”
“Contrary to popular belief, we don’t go after cops for the fun of it. Alex Ricker? No criminal, no evidence of criminal. No evidence Coltraine was on the take or passing police info to him. Hypothetically, if the place was wired, Alex Ricker and his old man are the types who have places swept regularly.”
“And who are smart enough not to discuss anything incriminating unless they’re sure it’s safe.”
“They got bits and pieces.”
“Did she meet Ricker?” Eve demanded “Max Ricker? Have any dealings with him?”
“Nothing came up. Then again, like I said, she and Ricker’s boy, Alex, traveled. So they could have. But those bits and pieces included the boy making it clear he didn’t want to discuss Daddy. So they didn’t. Upshot is, things got rocky in paradise, seriously rocky after Daddy went down.”
“When we took him down,” Eve murmured.
“Yeah. She started spending more time at her own place. They argued a few times when there were eyes on them. Then it shut down. Few weeks later, she put in for the transfer to New York.”
“That’s when you guys took over.”
“We kept an eye on her. Nothing close. Maybe if we had, she’d be alive. The fact is, we looked, couldn’t find, and put her on the outer rung. Nothing we picked up since she transferred indicates any contact with Ricker—Max or Alex.”
“Alex Ricker’s in New York. She met with him the day before she was murdered.”
“Fuck me.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I just said we’d bumped her down.” Frustration pumped out of him. “We don’t crucify cops, goddamn it. She’d screwed around with the son of a known bad guy, but nobody can pin anything on the son. It smelled, sure, but nobody found anything to pin on her either. She came here, by all appearances kept her nose clean. We weren’t dogging her. I wish we had been. I don’t like dirty cops, Dallas, but I sure as hell hate dead ones.”
“Okay, fine. Throttle back, Webster.”
“Fuck that, too. Are you looking at jealous former lover here? He does her or has her done because she walked away, and she’s heating sheets with Morris?”
Eve lifted her eyebrows.
“Christ, everyfuckingbody knows Morris had a thing going with her. I’m goddamn sorry for him.”
“Okay. Okay.” She did her own throttling back because she knew that as truth. “Yeah, it could play that way. The problem is, he has a really crappy alibi. If he’s a bad guy, he’s a really smart one, so why doesn’t he have a solid alibi?”
“Sometimes the crappy ones are more believable.”
“Yeah, I’ve gone there, too. He was still in love with her, at least part of the way. Still stuck on her.”
Webster twisted his lips into a pained smile. “I know how that goes.”
Eve eased back, cursed herself for walking straight into it. “Come on.”
“I’ve recovered,” he said easily. “But I do know how it goes. It pisses you off, and pushes at you. I never wanted to kill you though.”
“Whoever did her wanted it. Planned it. You can’t tell me either way, if she was dirty or not.”
“No. You can’t tell me either. You can’t give her the benefit of the doubt. Whatever you want to say about IAB, you know you have to look at her for being on the take, or at least under the influence of her feelings for the guy. You have to follow the line.”
“I don’t have to like it.”
Heat leapt back into his eyes. “You think I do?”
“Why do it otherwise?”
“Because we’re sworn to uphold the law, not use it. Protect and serve, not grab whatever you want along the way. Not do whatever you want. We’re supposed to stand for something.”
She couldn’t argue. “Did IAB look at me when I hooked up with Roarke?”
“Yeah, some. You knew it, in your gut. Your rep, your record held up. Plus,” he added with a quick grin, “nobody’s ever pinned anything on him either. The fact is, I know from personal experience, he could be the baddest of the badasses out there, and he’d never use you.”
He hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. “You may never see captain. They may never pull the bars out of their tight asses for you.”
“I know. It doesn’t matter.”
“It should.”
It surprised her to hear the resentment—for her sake—in his voice. And left her without a clue what to say.
“Anyway.” Webster shrugged. “I’ll take a look at things, on my own time. So we don’t put a smear on her if she didn’t earn it. If you get any more on Ricker, either way it leans, I’d appreciate if you’d pass it on.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“How much does Morris know?”
“I told him about Ricker before I tagged you. I’m not going around him on this.”
“So he knows you were going to run this up with IAB.”
“He put the dots together, yeah.”
“If you talk to him again, tell him I’ll be keeping a lid on it.”
“I will. He’ll appreciate it.”
“Yeah, unless I find something. Then he’ll want to eat my heart with cranberry sauce. I have to get back.” He got to his feet. “Be careful around Ricker. You put his father over. Odds are he’d be happy to eat your heart raw.”
Eve waited until Webster walked out, then went over to say her good-byes to Crack.
Eve supposed it would be weird to most, and just another day in the life of a cop, to go from a meeting in a sex club to a consultation in the pretty, cool-aired office of Dr. Charlotte Mira.
As the department’s top profiler and head shrink, Mira claimed a roomy space, decorated to her own liking. Which edged toward female and class.
Just like the doctor herself.
Mira sat, her legs crossed and shown to advantage in a pale pink suit. Her deep brown hair curled softly around her calm, lovely face as she sipped tea.
“I sent a card of condolence to Morris,” she told Eve. “It seems such a small thing to do for a friend at such a time. You’ve seen him, of course.”
“Yeah. He’s holding on. It’s wrecked him, you can see it, but he’s holding. You were able to read the files, the updates? Everything?”
“Yes. One of our own goes down, it’s a priority. She had an affair with Max Ricker’s son. A dangerous business. A professional risk. Yet I wouldn’t characterize her as a risk taker.”
“She was a cop.”
“Yes, which always involves risks. But according to her files, she never once in her career discharged her weapon. She solved puzzles. She was a thinker. An organized, detail-oriented thinker. She came from a good background, upper-middle-class, single-marriage family. She excelled in school. Her job evaluations were always solid and steady. No black marks, no shiny stars. This was a careful woman. Alex Ricker was the exception.”