-=O=-***-=O=-

She didn't waste time but tracked down Martinez, contacted her, and requested a meeting. Off police territory, Eve thought, would make it easier all around.

She met Martinez at a small coffee shop between both their bases. Far enough away from each location to insure it wasn't a cop hangout.

Martinez arrived a few minutes late, giving Eve the opportunity to observe, to judge. Going by body language, it was clear Martinez's defenses were up.

"I had to take personal time for this." Her shoulders as stiff as her voice, Martinez slid into the booth across from Eve. "And I don't have a lot of it."

"Fine. My clock's ticking, too. You want coffee?"

"I don't drink it."

"How do you live?"

Martinez gave a sour smile, signaled the serving droid, and ordered water. "And don't pour it from the tap," she warned. "I'll know and fry your circuits. Let's just cut through the crap," Martinez continued, turning back to Eve. "You're looking for me to hang something on Kohli and Mills, and it ain't gonna happen. You're looking to dig up dirt, doing scut work for IAB. That turns my stomach."

Eve picked up her coffee and watched Martinez placidly over the rim. "Well, that covers that. Now, just where do you get all this information?"

"Word gets around when one cop's hunting others. It's all over the One two-eight. We've got two dead cops. It seems to me you'd be more interested in finding out who did them than in turning up muck before they're even in the fucking ground."

That kind of temper, while Eve respected it, wasn't going to help Martinez work her way up the chain in rank. "Whatever you've heard, whatever you think, finding out who did them is my priority."

"Yeah, right. Your priority is covering your husband's ass."

"Excuse me?"

"He owns Purgatory. I figure maybe something was up there, and Kohli tuned into it. They didn't know he was a cop, so maybe they weren't careful. And when he got too close, they took him out."

"And Mills?"

Martinez shrugged. "You're the one saying they're connected."

"You know, Martinez, when I first met you and Mills, I figured he was the moron of the pair. Now, here you are, seriously damaging my self-esteem by showing me my character judgment stinks."

"You're not my commanding officer." Martinez had dark eyes. Now they fired like black suns. "I don't have to take crap from you."

"Then take some advice from someone who's been on the job longer. Learn when to jab and when to wait. You've been here under five minutes and told me more than I've asked."

"I haven't told you dick."

"You told me that someone's starting talk at your precinct. That word's already out -- likely through that source -- that there's reason to believe Kohli and Mills were taking. Ask yourself where that came from? Who'd want to put cops on their guard and looking sideways at me? Think, Detective."

To give her a minute to do so, Eve sipped at her coffee. "I don't have to cover for Roarke. He's been handling himself for a long time. Nobody but someone who'd have something to worry about has cause to suspect or know that part of my investigation is turning up dirt on the two victims."

"Word gets out," Martinez said, but her tone wasn't quite so confident. She reached for her water the minute it was on the table.

"Yeah, especially when someone wants it to. You think I arranged to put over three million dollars in Kohli's and Mills's accounts to cover my husband's ass? You think I've maybe been funneling it there for months to try to create a scandal involving fellow cops?"

"You're the one saying the money was there."

"That's right. I'm saying it."

Martinez said nothing for a moment, just staring back into Eve's eyes. Then she closed her own. "Hell. Oh, hell. I'm not turning on another cop. I'm fifth generation. There's been a cop in my family for over a hundred years. That means something to me. We have to stand up for each other."

"I'm not asking you to judge. I'm asking you to think. Not every one of us respects the badge. Two of the men on your task force are dead. Both of them had more money stashed away than most cops can save in a lifetime on the job. Now they're dead. Somebody got close enough to them to take them out before they could blink. Are you ready to be next?"

"Next? You see me as a target?" The fire came back into Martinez's eyes. "You think I've been taking."

"I haven't seen anything to make me think that. And I've looked."

"Goddamn bitch. I worked my ass off to make detective. Now you're going to toss me to IAB?"

"I'm not tossing you anywhere. But if you're not straight with me, you're going to hang yourself. One way or another. Who's at the core of this?" Eve demanded, leaning forward. "Be a detective, for Christ's sake, and figure it. Who connects Kohli and Mills and has the money to turn a cop into a weasel?"

"Ricker." Martinez's fingers curled on the table until her fist ran white across the knuckles. "Goddamn it."

"You had him, didn't you? You went into that bust knowing you had everything you needed for an arrest, an indictment, and a conviction. You were careful."

"It took me months to set it up. I lived with that case twenty-four/seven. I made sure I didn't miss anything. Didn't rush it. Then to have it all fall apart. I couldn't figure it. I kept telling myself the son of a bitch was just too slick, too well covered. But still... Part of me knew he had to have somebody inside. Had to. But I didn't want to look there. I still don't."

"But now you will."

Martinez lifted her glass, drank water as though her throat was scorched. "Why am I being tagged?"

"Spotted the surveillance, did you?"

"Yeah, I spotted it. I figured you were going after me next."

"If I find out you're in bed with Ricker, I will. Right now, the tag's for your protection."

"I want it off. If I'm going to throw in with you, I need to move without somebody breathing down my neck. I have a personal copy of all the data, all my notes, every step leading up to Ricker's bust. After the case fell apart, I looked over them, but my heart wasn't in it. It will be now."

"I'd like a copy."

"It's my work."

"And when we take him down, I'll see to it you get the collar."

"It means something to me. The job means something to me. This case... the captain said I'd lost my objectivity. She was right," Martinez added with a twist of her lips. "I did. I ate that case for breakfast every morning and I slept with it every night. If I'd kept the right distance, I might have seen all this coming. I might have seen how Mills insinuated himself into it until he was calling shots. I just took it as his usual macho bullshit."

"We're supposed to stand for each other. You had no reason to look his way."

"Kohli's memorial's scheduled for day after tomorrow. It comes to me, without doubt, that he was looped with Ricker, I'll spit on his grave. My grandfather went down in the line of duty during the Urban Wars. He saved two kids. They're somewhat older than I am, and they write my grandmother every year at Christmas, and again on the anniversary of the day it happened. They never forget. It's not just about the collar, Dallas. It's about being a cop."

Eve nodded, and after a moment's hesitation, leaned in again. "Martinez, I worked on one of Ricker's spine crackers, had him ready to roll. The deal was going through the PA's office for immunity. He had a hearing this morning. Walking down the hall in the courtyard, between two cops, he got hit. He's dead. Just like that. There are leaks, and I don't know where to begin to plug them. I want you to know before you start on this that I may not be able to keep a lid on it. I may not be able to keep your name out of the mix. And that could put you in the crosshairs."

Martinez pushed her empty glass aside. "Like I said. It's about being a cop."