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In Death 32 - Treachery in Death

In Death 32 - Treachery in Death

Titel: In Death 32 - Treachery in Death
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curled them by her side.
    If McNab tagged her, if her ’link signaled, she was screwed. If either of the people just inches outside the door slammed it open in temper, sensed her, heard her, smelled her, she’d be trapped, back to the wall. No escape.
    Bad cops. Seriously bad cops. Renee, Garnet. Don’t forget, don’t forget. Keener. Remember all the details, just in case you live through it. She glanced up, saw with horror the drip of water sliding out of the fist-sized showerhead.
    Throat slamming shut, she eased out a hand, palm up, and caught the tiny drop. Wondered if the sound of it meeting her palm was actually as loud as a hammer strike.
    But they kept arguing until the woman— Renee, Renee —sighed. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. We’re a team, Garnet, but a team has a leader. That’s me. Maybe that’s a problem for you, maybe it’s because we used to sleep together.”
    “You’re the one who called that off.”
    “Because now it’s business. We keep it business, we keep getting rich. And when I make captain, well, we’re going to expand. Meanwhile, there’s no point in arguing about Keener. I’ve taken care of it.”
    “Goddamn it, Oberman. Why the fuck didn’t you say so?”
    Oberman, Peabody thought. Renee Oberman . Has rank, pushing toward captain.
    “Because you annoyed me. I put our boy on it, and it’s done.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “You know how good he is, and I said it’s done. When they find him it’ll look like an OD. Just another chemi-head who pumped in too much junk. Nobody’s going to care enough to dig into it. You’re just lucky Keener hadn’t gotten far, and he still had the ten K.”
    “You’re fucking kidding me.”
    The laugh was bright, and sharp as steel. “I don’t kid about money. I’m taking ten percent of your share as a bonus for our boy.”
    “The hell you—”
    “Be grateful you’re getting any of it.” The words slapped hard and warned of worse. “Keener was a valuable tool when worked right. Now we have to replace him. In the meantime . . .”
    Peabody heard the light pat on the stall door, watched it ease open a crack. The sweat dried to ice on her skin, and she balled her fists again.
    Through the crack she saw part of an arm, a glimmer of red high heels, and a flash of blond hair.
    “No more locker room meets,” Renee said, tone cool now, crisp. Commanding. “You keep your head, Garnet, and you’ll keep enjoying those island breezes. Now, I’ve got a hot date, and you’ve made me late. Walk me out like a good boy.”
    “You’re a piece of work, Renee.”
    “I am. I am one fine piece of work.” Her laugh trailed back, echoed, faded.
    And Peabody closed her eyes, stayed where she was, forced herself to count slowly to a hundred. In her mind she reconstructed the locker room, gauged the distance to the locker where she’d stowed her weapon.
    She eased the door open, scanned, sucked in her breath, and made the dash to the locker. She didn’t release her breath until her weapon was in her hand.
    Still naked, she crossed to the door connecting to the gym, eased it open an inch.
    Dark, she noted. The lights would go off when the room was empty over a minute. Still she searched, made herself be sure before she backtracked.
    She kept the weapon in her hand as she pulled out her ’link.
    “Hey, She-Body!” McNab grinned at her, then gave her a green-eyed leer. “Hey, you’re naked, and so, so very built.”
    “Shut up.” The shakes started; she couldn’t hold them off. “I need you to come, meet me at Central. Outside the south entrance. Come in a cab, McNab, and keep it. Make it fast.”
    He didn’t grin, didn’t leer. His eyes went from lover to cop. “What’s wrong?”
    “Tell you then. I gotta get out of here. Make it fast.”
    “Baby, I’m practically there.”

3
    ROARKE GAVE EVE TIME TO STEW, SINCE THAT was obviously what she was in the mood for. He enjoyed the rest of his dinner, and the company, the conversation.
    He liked, very much, hearing stories of Summerset’s past, hearing the angles and details of them from old friends of the man who’d become a father to him. And it pleased him to watch Summerset engage with them, laugh with them. Remember with them.
    As long as they’d known each other, as much as they’d shared since Summerset had taken in a battered, beaten, half-starved boy, there was, Roarke discovered, a great deal yet to be learned.
    He indulged in coffee and brandy, a bit of
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