She turned into Homicide, waved off Baxter, and strode into her office. Shut the door.
“I take her last because I’ll have everything I can squeeze out of the other two, because yes, she started this ball rolling. I know what the fuck I’m doing.”
He held up both hands. “I apologize. I apologize,” he repeated. “What you say makes good sense. I only brought it up because I want to assure you, you’ll have no issues from me. Roarke will have no issues from me now or in the future. I believe he saved my life last night.”
“Is that so? He didn’t mention it.”
“He called out a warning, and even before I could turn, he fired on the man who intended to fire on me. I don’t and won’t forget that. And I’ve seen, clearly, he has given his time, his skills, taken considerable personal risk as consultant for this department. The file on him is closed. I give you my word on it.”
“I’ll take your word on it.”
“Let me also add, we’ll file charges against the three you’re about to interview. Should they ever be released from your system, they’ll find themselves in ours.”
“Good to know. But they won’t get out.”
“If we don’t speak again before I leave, it’s been, as always, an experience working with you.”
“Same,” she said, and shook his extended hand.
When he left, she realized the weight that dropped off her had been heavier than she’d admitted.
She rolled her shoulders clear, then walked out to meet Peabody and Reo.
“Busy, busy,” Reo said. “Barrister’s got Jefferson Pinkney as her primary attorney. She actually tried for Robert Wenn.” Reo grinned. “Refused. Not that Pinkney’s easy.”
“It won’t matter. We’ve got her. No deals, Reo.”
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. The media would swallow the PA whole after all this. No deals other than on- or off-planet. We won’t offer on unless we need that push.”
“You won’t. You up for it, Peabody?”
“Got a twenty-minute catnap at my desk, popped my boost, had pizza and two tubes of Pepsi. I’m way up for it.”
Eve opened the door to Interview A.
“Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, Peabody, Detective Delia, Reo, APA Cher, entering Interview with Joy Barrister and her legal counsel Jefferson Pinkney.”
Pinkney had let his hair go snow-white. It was a good look against his deep brown skin. His eyes were a cool blue, his suit a perfectly cut gray worn with a tie of navy and maroon.
“For the record,” he began, “we object strenuously to this absurdity. To my client being dragged from her family home in the middle of the night and incarcerated. Her brother, whom she grieves for, was clearly murdered during a burglary. It appears—”
“Before you roll out any more and waste all of our time, Detective Peabody has something for you and your client to listen to. Playback, Detective.”
“Playback from the clone ’link taken from the desk in Joy Barrister’s home office. Time stamp included.”
Magdelana’s voice came through.
Joy, sweetheart, you know you shouldn’t contact me at this point.
And when Joy’s voice came through, she turned to her lawyer. “How can they do this? Go into my home! Make this stop.”
“Duly executed warrant.” Reo opened a file, took out a hard copy. “Search and seizure.”
“This was a private conversation.”
“Not anymore,” Eve said even as Pinkney warned Joy not to speak.
“I’m not going to listen to this. I refuse. Do what I’m paying you to do and stop this.”
