Page 117 of Bonded in Death

“Conference room one.”

Eve took the five to update her own board, then walked into the bullpen. And into Jenkinson’s tie with bright yellow, orange-beaked rubber ducks swimming on frothy blue bubbles in tiny tubs.

“I can’t even begin,” she said.

“You’re messing with bombs, and you don’t call, you don’t write?”

“You’re on call now. And you know what? Soft clothes, but wear that terrifying tie. Nobody’s going to think you’re a cop.”

“That’s just another way to kick their asses into a cage.”

Maybe he was right, she thought. She didn’t want him to be right, but maybe.

She walked out of the bullpen—and nearly into Garnet DeWinter. Another sheath, this time pale green and worn with candy-pink skyscrapers.She’d changed her hair—people were always doing that—so some of her natural curls framed her damn near perfect face.

“I didn’t need the reminder to do my work.”

“Did you get the DNA?”

“I went into the lab early, after working late.”

Eve echoed Whitney. “Get in line. Walk and talk. Did you get the DNA? I’ve got a briefing on an op, and Whitney wants confirmation.”

“I’m very good at my work, and have considerable of it that doesn’t apply to your investigation.”

“I wouldn’t have asked for you if you weren’t good at your work. Look, DeWinter, this asshole planned to blow up three women, and anybody else within about ten feet, this afternoon. I spent part of my night holding a fucking flashlight so Roarke could deactivate a bomb and stop that from happening.

“Quit your carping, and tell me if you got the DNA.”

“I wouldn’t have taken the time to come here if I hadn’t. The remains were not Conrad Potter’s, but the remains of one Trevor Kimball, age fifty-eight, who according to his records self-terminated—a bedsheet hanging—in the same prison as Potter three days prior.

“There were not sufficient remains to match an adult male of his height, his weight.”

“Pierce divvied them up.”

“That’s for you to determine. In the meantime—”

“Thank you.” Eve held out a hand.

DeWinter frowned at the hand, then sighed, shook it. “You’re welcome. We are on the same team, Dallas.”

“I’m aware. He’s a very bad guy, DeWinter.”

“So many are.”

“You could’ve just sent the report instead of coming in.”

“I was a little pissed off.”

“Again, get in line.”

“Yes, but that seems to be your natural state of being.”

“It helps catch the very bad guys. How do you walk around all day in those shoes?”

“Stylishly.” With that, DeWinter turned on her skyscraper heels and walked stylishly away.

In her lug-soled boots, Eve went into the conference room.

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