“So what the hell does he want?” She answered. “Dallas.”
“Lieutenant, good morning.”
He looked like a very successful criminal attorney, with his silvered dark hair perfectly styled, electric green eyes hooded under ink-black brows. Somewhere around sixty, he’d worked skillfully for decades to,in her opinion, undo the knots people like her had tied around defendants.
“Mr. Wenn, what can I do for you?”
“I believe there’s something we can do for each other. I have a client who, for certain considerations, has detailed information to offer you regarding your current investigation.”
“And what considerations might those be?”
“My client requires immunity for any charges pertaining to the theft of the Royal Suite.”
“Is that all? As the item or items taken from Barrister House have not yet been made public, I have to assume your client was involved in the break-in, the burglary, during which a man was killed.”
“Not by my client. Lieutenant, my client contends, and has convinced me, to have taken no part in the death of Nathan Barrister. But has information that will lead you to those responsible, and possibly lead to the recovery of the Royal Suite.”
“Would your client be Jenna Lynn Delaney of Savannah, Georgia?”
His gaze stayed steady—she gave him credit for it. “You’re very good at your job. So am I. I believe part of the skill required in our work is separating truth from lies. My client asks for a meeting, at a neutral location, with you and a representative from the prosecutor’s office.
“She could have fled, Lieutenant. She didn’t. She’s in a position, has chosen to be in a position, to assist you in finding Nathan Barrister’s killer. We have yet to face each other in a courtroom, but I know your reputation. I believe this would be your priority. It’s also hers.”
“I have to talk to my boss, and the prosecutor’s office.”
“Of course. Let me add that she is not willing, at this time, to talk to any law enforcement officers but yourself.”
“My partner will attend this meeting if it happens.”
“That’s agreeable. No other agencies, for now. At that time, if wecan come to an agreement, I’ll give you an address. I appreciate your consideration.”
Eve looked at Roarke. “Well, well, fucking well.”
“Will you give it to her? Immunity?”
“That’s not up to me.”
“We both know you’d have influence there.”
“She didn’t kill Barrister, and I can make that case to Whitney and the PA. Immunity for the theft, that’s sticky for me.”
“But you have a priority.”
“Yeah.”
“I want to be at the meeting. There’s a language we can speak, Ms. Delaney and I, that won’t necessarily require words.”
“I got that. Whitney first.” She made the contact.
He watched her, pacing, pausing, pacing, as she made her case to her commander. It didn’t surprise him when she pushed for Cher Reo; Eve and the APA had a rhythm.
When she finished, she turned to him again. “Okay, one down. He’ll talk to the PA. I’m going to bring Reo up to speed. Then get Peabody on board.”
“I’ll just go down, speak to Summerset. He can continue on the financials until I can get back to them. He can handle it,” he said as she started to object. “He has the skill, and he’ll use that skill with discretion. You know that.”
“Shit. Are we going to have to make him an NYPSD consultant now?”
Roarke smiled. “I believe he would be appalled at the offer. I’ll be downstairs.”
