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“Loose ends dangling.”
“That can be tied up later. Whatever you got from the booster and your own adrenaline is washed, Lieutenant. You’re pale as the moon, and your words are starting to slur.”
“Coffee.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
He must have been right because when she managed to focus, she was standing—barely—in the bedroom. “One hour horizontal,” she said as she took off her weapon harness.
“Four—which gives you enough time to put some fuel in your system in the morning and get downtown to grill your suspects.”
“Not just grill.” She sat to yank off her boots. “I’m gonna fry ’em. Aren’t you gonna carry me to bed?”
“You’re still dressed.”
“’S’ okay. I can sleep in my clothes.” She smiled sleepily, held up her arms to him.
He got her up, staggered a little as he carted her to the bed, then dumped both of them onto the duvet. “Best I can do.”
“Good enough.” She curled into him, he wrapped around her, and they both tumbled into sleep.
He’d been right about the four and the fuel, Eve decided. She was going to have a long and tricky day, and needed to charge up for it.
As expected, Bullock and the rest had called in a fleet of lawyers. Eve was letting them all stew while she and her team gave complete reports to Whitney and Reo.
“The Feds and Global are going to want to take over the fraud, the baby-for-profit op, and whatever else the foundation had its fingers into,” Reo told her.
“They can have it.”
“And a field day with it. The London law firm is also going to be on the hot seat. You’ve got yourself an international incident, Dallas.”
“I’ve got three DB’s. Those are mine. As for the abduction and held-against-will of Tandy Willowby, that’s a share with Lieutenant Smith in MPU.”
“How’s she doing? Willowby?”
“Good, I’m told. She was sleeping when I left the house.” She turned to Whitney. “I want to start with Cavendish on this, sir. He’s the weak sister.”
“Your call.”
Reo got to her feet. “Got them cold on the kidnapping, and the evidence is there for Global. The three homicides, that’s the sticker.”
“I’ll get them.”
Reo nodded. “Mind if I watch?”
Cavendish was in Interrogation, looking pale and sweaty and flanked by two sharp-looking suits. The one on the left got immediately to his feet. “My client was held overnight without bond, and kept waiting in this room nearly an hour. We intend to file complaints, and when you’ve finished this ridiculous charade, demand an internal investigation on you.”
“Charade?” Eve said to Peabody.
“It’s like that game where you can’t talk, but you have to use your hands and body language to get the other person to guess the word or phrase.”
“No kidding? That’s good, because while Mr. Cavendish is entitled to his representation, and may speak with same, I’m not obliged to speak to lawyers. Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, in formal interview with Cavendish, Walter, and his two representatives. I’ll just read off the charges.”
When she had, she sat, kicked out her legs. “You’ve already been read the Revised Miranda, Mr. Cavendish—”
“My client is a citizen of Great Britain—”
“God save the King. Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”
