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Chapter Five
Posted by
NatlChamp
,
04 September 2012
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A bowl of berries and a glass of vitamin fortified orange juice hadn't been his original idea on breakfast, but it would have to do. At least until they got rid of Webster, then he could properly feed her, and himself. He took her hand as they crossed the bedroom to the elevator.
She'd put on a pair of old ragged sweats and an ancient NYPSD t-shirt. She added a pair of old skids and ran a hand through her hair. It was her comfortable lounging clothes, he knew. He wondered if she had done it to help remind herself who and what she was, as they headed down to be interviewed by IAB. They may have known Webster, but that didn't make it any easier. Eve had had a personal relationship with the man at one time, Roarke remembered his fist had had a personal relationship with the man's face.
“Be nice.” She shot him a look as he took her hand and headed towards the elevator. He just smiled back at her.
“Roarke-”
“Webster and I have come to understanding. He keeps his hands off of what's mine, and I don't break his face.” He raised her hand to his lips, but paused, narrowed his eyes and glanced over at her. “Why are you limping?”
Shit. Damn. She'd forgotten for just a moment to hide it. “There's a little lingering weakness in the leg, from the stunner blast.”
“Eve...” The tone was one she'd heard before, one of subtle warning. “Why are you trying to hide it?”
“I'm not.” Not precisely. “I told Louise about it.”
She knew the moment it was out of her mouth, she should have just kept quiet. Temper flashed through his eyes.
“But couldn't be bothered to mention it to me. You weren't limping earlier.” There was heat in his voice, as he turned to face her. “Ah... thought you were going to get that one over on me.”
“Roarke-” She wasn't entirely sure why she had tried to hide it. “I wasn't. I just... I just didn't want you to have anything else to worry about.”
“Eve-” He stopped when the elevator doors whisked open. They would come back to this later, he decided. Right now they had more pressing matters. He found Detective Donald Webster, sitting in the visitors chair at his desk, sipping on a mug of his expensive coffee. Maybe it was better he went into this with a little temper built up.
“Detective.” Roarke kept Eve's hand, and stood behind the desk, keeping them both in the position of power. “What can we do for you this morning?”
“I need to get a statement from the Lieutenant.” He pulled out a recorder, set it on the desk.
“Then you can get one, once she is properly represented.”
“Roarke, he's just doing his job.”
“Aye. But you're not talking to him like this. No.” He cut her off as she opened her mouth. “You haven't even had time to process this yourself.”
“The sooner this goes on record, the better. Dallas, surely you understand, I'm just trying to do what's best for all involved.”
“Detective, you requested a meeting with me, not the Lieutenant. If there is anything I can do for you, I will gladly talk with you. But, as far as the interview, that is not happening this morning.”
“Alright.” Webster kept his eyes on Roarke. There was an understanding there.
“Eve, why don't you go on up, start us some breakfast.” He squeezed her hand, and shifted his gaze to her. “I'll be along in a minute.”
She said nothing as she turned and left the two men. She had visions of them pounding on each other in her office previously. She hoped Roarke had his temper under control. But she fled the room, grateful not to have to do the dance at the moment. She wasn't sure she was up to it. And, Roarke was right, she hadn't put it all together herself.
“She must not be herself.” Webster tried to keep the mood light, as Roarke took his seat, swiveled his chair slowly, as if stalking prey. “Not even a token protest.”
“Webster, you and I both know, that you would have been informed as soon as she came around, so you know that's only been about six hours. Most of that time she's been sleeping. Even if she wanted to talk with you, I'm not sure at this point what you think she would say.”
“Couldn't hurt to try.” He smiled, but sank back into the chair when Roarke pinned him with a look. “Look, I really did just want to talk with you.”
He picked up the recorder, put it back in his pocket. “Off the record.”
Roarke nodded, steepled his fingers and steadied his chair. “Alright.”
“Get her the best legal team you can.” He saw his message got through as Roarke leaned forward, dropped his hands to his lap. “This is going to get messy. I shouldn't even be telling you this. The other Officer taken to the hospital, Officer Pederson, died this morning. Dallas's weapons were found on scene, and her main piece had been fired. Her badge and shield are covered in blood, and there is, at this point in time, no recording of what happened.”
“She's a suspect, then.” Fire flamed up behind his blue eyes, burned in his throat. He had to clench his hands in his lap to keep them still.
“They'll put her on suspension until it's clear. She'll have to go through testing. I'd be expecting a call from the tower fairly soon if I were you.”
“So, this was just a friendly warning, then?”
“Warning? No. More like a friendly heads up.” He stood, held out his hand to shake Roarke's. “I still care about her.”
“Thank you.” He shook Webster's hand. “I'll let you know when she's ready to speak with you. Summerset will show you out.”
“I know the way. Take care of her.”
Roarke sat for a moment, trying to process what Webster had told him. Then he engaged his link. He'd make sure his lawyers had earned their retainer by the afternoon.
She'd put on a pair of old ragged sweats and an ancient NYPSD t-shirt. She added a pair of old skids and ran a hand through her hair. It was her comfortable lounging clothes, he knew. He wondered if she had done it to help remind herself who and what she was, as they headed down to be interviewed by IAB. They may have known Webster, but that didn't make it any easier. Eve had had a personal relationship with the man at one time, Roarke remembered his fist had had a personal relationship with the man's face.
“Be nice.” She shot him a look as he took her hand and headed towards the elevator. He just smiled back at her.
“Roarke-”
“Webster and I have come to understanding. He keeps his hands off of what's mine, and I don't break his face.” He raised her hand to his lips, but paused, narrowed his eyes and glanced over at her. “Why are you limping?”
Shit. Damn. She'd forgotten for just a moment to hide it. “There's a little lingering weakness in the leg, from the stunner blast.”
“Eve...” The tone was one she'd heard before, one of subtle warning. “Why are you trying to hide it?”
“I'm not.” Not precisely. “I told Louise about it.”
She knew the moment it was out of her mouth, she should have just kept quiet. Temper flashed through his eyes.
“But couldn't be bothered to mention it to me. You weren't limping earlier.” There was heat in his voice, as he turned to face her. “Ah... thought you were going to get that one over on me.”
“Roarke-” She wasn't entirely sure why she had tried to hide it. “I wasn't. I just... I just didn't want you to have anything else to worry about.”
“Eve-” He stopped when the elevator doors whisked open. They would come back to this later, he decided. Right now they had more pressing matters. He found Detective Donald Webster, sitting in the visitors chair at his desk, sipping on a mug of his expensive coffee. Maybe it was better he went into this with a little temper built up.
“Detective.” Roarke kept Eve's hand, and stood behind the desk, keeping them both in the position of power. “What can we do for you this morning?”
“I need to get a statement from the Lieutenant.” He pulled out a recorder, set it on the desk.
“Then you can get one, once she is properly represented.”
“Roarke, he's just doing his job.”
“Aye. But you're not talking to him like this. No.” He cut her off as she opened her mouth. “You haven't even had time to process this yourself.”
“The sooner this goes on record, the better. Dallas, surely you understand, I'm just trying to do what's best for all involved.”
“Detective, you requested a meeting with me, not the Lieutenant. If there is anything I can do for you, I will gladly talk with you. But, as far as the interview, that is not happening this morning.”
“Alright.” Webster kept his eyes on Roarke. There was an understanding there.
“Eve, why don't you go on up, start us some breakfast.” He squeezed her hand, and shifted his gaze to her. “I'll be along in a minute.”
She said nothing as she turned and left the two men. She had visions of them pounding on each other in her office previously. She hoped Roarke had his temper under control. But she fled the room, grateful not to have to do the dance at the moment. She wasn't sure she was up to it. And, Roarke was right, she hadn't put it all together herself.
“She must not be herself.” Webster tried to keep the mood light, as Roarke took his seat, swiveled his chair slowly, as if stalking prey. “Not even a token protest.”
“Webster, you and I both know, that you would have been informed as soon as she came around, so you know that's only been about six hours. Most of that time she's been sleeping. Even if she wanted to talk with you, I'm not sure at this point what you think she would say.”
“Couldn't hurt to try.” He smiled, but sank back into the chair when Roarke pinned him with a look. “Look, I really did just want to talk with you.”
He picked up the recorder, put it back in his pocket. “Off the record.”
Roarke nodded, steepled his fingers and steadied his chair. “Alright.”
“Get her the best legal team you can.” He saw his message got through as Roarke leaned forward, dropped his hands to his lap. “This is going to get messy. I shouldn't even be telling you this. The other Officer taken to the hospital, Officer Pederson, died this morning. Dallas's weapons were found on scene, and her main piece had been fired. Her badge and shield are covered in blood, and there is, at this point in time, no recording of what happened.”
“She's a suspect, then.” Fire flamed up behind his blue eyes, burned in his throat. He had to clench his hands in his lap to keep them still.
“They'll put her on suspension until it's clear. She'll have to go through testing. I'd be expecting a call from the tower fairly soon if I were you.”
“So, this was just a friendly warning, then?”
“Warning? No. More like a friendly heads up.” He stood, held out his hand to shake Roarke's. “I still care about her.”
“Thank you.” He shook Webster's hand. “I'll let you know when she's ready to speak with you. Summerset will show you out.”
“I know the way. Take care of her.”
Roarke sat for a moment, trying to process what Webster had told him. Then he engaged his link. He'd make sure his lawyers had earned their retainer by the afternoon.
