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“We’ll plan to celebrate later.”
“How?”
He smiled, slow and wicked. “I’ll think of something. Kick his ass, Lieutenant.”
“Count on it.”
When she got the signal Callaway was on his way up, she strode back into the bullpen, caught Carmichael and Sanchez on their way out.
“We caught a fresh one,” Carmichael told her.
“Let it hold a minute. Give me grief.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Suspect’s coming up. Give me grief, put on a show, storm out. Mostly you,” she said to Sanchez. “He sees women as weak and expendable.”
“Is that so?” Carmichael muttered.
“What the hell do you expect?” Sanchez demanded, his voice bordering on a shout. “I’m running this department, working damn near around the clock.”
“Hold it down, Detective,” Eve ordered, but wearily.
“I am holding it down. Holding it all down, while you’re dancing with the feds, giving the media face time, and running in circles.”
“We are carrying a lot, Lieutenant.”
“We?” Sanchez rounded on his partner. “I’m carrying you, sister, just like always. And while I am Dallas sucks up all the manpower, all the resources. Every case we’ve got, that you dumped on us, is backed up because the lab’s put everything else on hold—on your authority.”
“I’ve got a mass murderer who could strike again at any time, anywhere in the city,” Eve began.
“Yeah, and you’re nowhere. You’d rather see this department go to hell than step back and let the feds take it. Get this, and get it straight, when you go down for screwing this up, I’m not going down with you.”
He strode out, bulling by Callaway. Carmichael hunched in. “He hasn’t had much sleep, Lieutenant.” With a last nervous look, she hurried out after Sanchez.
Eve let out a long sigh, dragged her hands through her hair as she turned. She jolted, wished she could pull off an embarrassed blush, but thought her expression accomplished the same thi
ng.
“Mr. Callaway, thanks for coming in.”
“Your detective made it sound important.” He glanced back in the direction Sanchez and Carmichael had taken, didn’t quite mask the smirk before he sent Eve a sympathetic look. “It must be a difficult situation for you.”
“Everyone’s overworked and on edge. If you’ll come with me, we’re set up in a conference room.”
“I’m not sure what I can do,” he said as Eve led the way. “How I can help.”
“You knew several of the victims, of both attacks. You’re familiar with both locations—the layout, the employees, the neighborhood. My sense, when we talked before, is you’re observant, and the fact you were actually in the first location may help.”
“Believe me, I’ve gone over that evening countless times.”
“We’re hoping if we talk you through it again, you may remember some small detail. I’m not going to lie to you—” Oh yeah, she thought, I am. “We’re in a bind.”
She opened the door to the conference room, blocking the way for just a moment to make sure her voice carried in. “I have to tell you what we discuss here, what you see here is confidential. I’m trusting you, Mr. Callaway.”
“You can. Please, call me Lew.”
“Lew.” She tried for a relieved smile as she gestured him inside. “Detective Peabody, my partner, and Doctor Mira, our profiler.”
