“How about no? Absolutely, unequivocally no. I’d’ve dealt on her, to a point, until I heard that last bit. He told her everything. She knew he’d killed and intended to continue. She intended to get him away despite that. Not even for help, but so he could do as he pleased.”
“Hold that line, Reo.”
“You hold yours.” Reo gave Eve a decisive nod. “I’ll hold mine.”
“I’m bringing her up. Let her attorney know.”
“I’m begging for coffee.”
“I’ll see to it,” Roarke told her. “Charlotte, coffee or tea?”
“I’ll go for the coffee, and thanks.”
As Roarke started toward Eve’s office, Whitney stepped off the elevator. They exchanged a few words before Whitney continued to Eve.
“Interview end?”
“Yes, sir. We got a full, detailed confession. He also implicated his mother as accessory after the fact.”
“I’ve just gotten off the ’link with the governor.” His eyebrows lifted when he saw Eve’s eyes go flat. “Relax, Dallas. Yes, they’ve gone to him, the Harper family—which he tells me didn’t include the senator. He alsoviewed the live feed. He’ll take no part in this, and wanted to assure me of same.
“Dallas.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to apologize in advance, but when you’ve completed your work here, you’ll need to address the media again.”
“Well, Christ. Sir.”
He laughed at that. “A sincere apology. If it helps, I’ll have to address them as well.”
“It really doesn’t.”
Roarke and Trueheart came down the hall, both of them carrying coffee.
Which told Eve he’d probably provided coffee for the whole damn bullpen.
“I’m going to have a quick sit-down with Harper’s attorney. It’s Malory Felds, Dallas. Solid, but no Kopeckne. And I’ll hold the line. Ten minutes should do it,” Reo said.
“Peabody, my office.”
She went straight there, straight to the window. She opened it, leaned out. Breathed.
“No sympathy for her. None.”
“I don’t feel any.”
“Good. She doesn’t deserve it. What would your mother do if you killed someone in cold blood, and had no problem doing so again?”
“She’d do everything she could to get me help. She’d visit me as often as possible in prison. I would’ve broken her heart, but she’d tell me she loved me, and visit me.”
“And if she had more money than God?”
“Exactly the same thing.”
“That’s exactly it. This isn’t love, it’s obsession. It’s a sick kind of pride. We don’t give her an inch.”
“Two bad cops.”
“Two damn good, pissed-off cops. For them.” She pointed at the board. “She’s as responsible as he is. We stand for them, and we take her down.”
“Do you think we can break her?”
