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“Yeah.” Webster began to smile. “I could see it might.”
“As our services include private transports,
and it always pays to offer perks to those who could afford them anyway, we’d look at those individuals, particularly if we found those individuals owned property. People who own multiple homes and can afford to travel to them regularly are excellent customers.”
“I bet they are. It’s a good angle. If you get a hit, let me know. I could work a filter from there, so you could take it down a few levels.” When Roarke lifted a brow, Webster nodded. “A filter sanctioned by IAB keeps it from edging into questionable.”
“Understood.”
“If that’s all for tonight, I’ve got to take off.” Webster pushed to his feet. “I’m meeting someone.”
“As pertains to this?” Eve demanded.
“No, as doesn’t pertain to this.” He shot Roarke a quick grin. “Thanks for the pie.”
“I’ll thank you, too.” Mira stepped up as Webster left. “I’ll have profiles on the other officers, get them to you tomorrow. I’d suggest you find a way to talk with members of the squad prior to Renee’s command there, get a sense from them.”
“It’s on my slate,” Eve told her.
When the room finally emptied of cops, Roarke leaned back on Eve’s desk. “Alone at last. And I suppose we’ll be leaving shortly so I can decommission Renee’s official vehicle.”
“I figured you’d enjoy it. A nostalgia thing.”
“It would be more enjoyably nostalgic if I stole it.”
She actually considered it for a moment. “No, it’s better to just take it out. But you need to do it so it looks like a regular—but severe—mechanical problem, not tampering. I don’t want her to be able to use it for, say, a week—and I want diagnostics to see it as a normal breakdown.”
“Well then, at least there’s a tiny challenge involved. I’ll need to change. While I do you can tell me how you plan to fix it so Renee signs your doctored waiver.”
“You should know when you need to run a con, you hire a grifter.”
10
VEHICULAR TAMPERING WASN’T SOMETHING she did every day, particularly with departmental approval. She wondered just how she’d write it up in her report.
Assigned expert consultant, civilian (former thief), to debilitate the official vehicle of a ranked NYPSD officer.
Probably not quite that way.
“She doesn’t deserve to be a ranked NYPSD officer,” Eve muttered.
Roarke glanced over as he drove. “You’re not actually feeling guilty about this?”
“Not guilty. Uncomfortable,” she decided. “It was my idea, and it’s a good step. It’s department property, so the commander can order or approve said step, and we have tacit IAB sanction with Webster’s attachment. But I’m still a cop deliberately and covertly disabling another cop’s ride. So I have to remind myself she doesn’t deserve to be a cop.”
“Whatever gets you through, darling. You might try to enjoy it, as I intend to.” He flashed her a grin, gave her a playful finger in the ribs. “Criminal activity does have its appeal. Otherwise there wouldn’t be so many criminals.”
“It’s not a criminal activity. It’s department sanctioned.”
“Pretend.”
She only rolled her eyes. “The building has—as you’d expect with a cop, and a dirty one at that—solid security. Underground parking for tenants is assigned—”
“Which you already told me, and is the reason I took a little walk through the records for said garage and identified her slot. Level two, slot twenty-three.”
“I’m just going over it.” Because, she admitted, it made it seem less criminal. “Visitor parking is limited to level three. Visitors have to clear garage security. The simplest way is to key in a name and corresponding apartment.”
He tipped her a glance, quick and full of humor. “No, there are simpler.”
