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“You take on the job, you take on the risks. Someone’s always reminding me of that.”
She opened her eyes now, looked at him. “Must be tempting to smack her back for being such a tight-ass know-it-all.”
“Oh, infinitely.” He played his fingers lightly over her cheek. “But someone’s always beating me to it.”
She smiled now. “I don’t get hit in the face every couple weeks anymore, I don’t feel right. I’m okay.”
“Yes, you are.”
She was steady again when she strode into the hospital admission’s lobby. Steady enough to snap like a wolf at the dozen reporters already camped out and trying to sniff out a story.
“No comment.”
“Your name was brought up as part of the negotiation team that brought about Captain Ryan Feeney’s release. Why was Homicide part of this team?”
“No comment.”
“A police source has stated that Detective Kevin Halloway fired on several other detectives, took Captain Feeney hostage within the Electronic Detectives Division of Cop Central and subsequently was killed during the incident.”
She shoved her way through the encroaching reporters, and—oops—knocked over a camera. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the no portion of the phrase ‘no comment.’ ”
“Did you terminate Detective Halloway in your efforts to obtain Captain Feeney’s release?”
She turned at that, her eyes flat as a shark’s. “Commander Whitney, along with the chief of police and the Mayor of New York will be briefing the media on today’s events within the hour. If you want to feed, go chew on that bone. I’m just here to visit a sick friend.”
“Why’d he do it?” someone shouted as she bullied her way to the elevators. “What kind of cops do you have working down there?”
“The kind who lay it down to serve and protect, even when it involves vultures like you. Goddamn it,” she muttered the minute she was inside the elevator. She punched the wall, causing the elderly woman half-buried in a flower arrangement to try to melt into the corner of the car. “That’s going to be tonight’s revolving sound bite. I know better, better than to let them get under my skin.”
“It would have to be made of reinforced steel not to get pricked now and then, Lieutenant. And as sound bites go, I thought it a strong and pithy one.”
“Pithy, my butt. Damn it, I didn’t get what floor he’s on.”
“I did. Twelve. Madam.” Roarke smiled winningly at their elevator companion. “Your floor?”
“I can get off anywhere.” She noticed the weapon peeking out from under Eve’s jacket. “Anywhere at all.”
“It’s all right.” Smooth and handsome in his business suit, he kept his voice light, friendly. “She’s the police. That’s a beautiful flower arrangement.”
“Yes. Well. My granddaughter just had a baby. A boy.”
“Congratulations. You’d like Maternity, I imagine. Ah, six.” Once he had their destinations, he turned back to her, careful to keep his body blocking Eve’s gun. “I hope mother and son are doing well.”
“Yes, thank you. It’s my first great-grandchild. They’ve named him Luke Andrew.”
She slid her gaze cautiously toward Eve when the elevator doors opened to six. Holding the flowers like a shield, she scurried out.
“What? Do I look like I stomp on old ladies for recreation?”
Roarke angled his head. “Actually—”
“Just keep that silk tongue of yours still.”
“That’s not what you said last night.”
And because he made her laugh, she was able to head down to McNab’s room with less weight on her shoulders. It dropped right back on when she stepped in, saw Peabody sitting by the bed, and McNab in it.
He looked too young, lying there with his eyes closed, face white, so white against white sheets. They’d taken his body adornments, she thought. He looked naked, vulnerable, wrong without his complement of earrings.
