Captain Ryan Feeney saw potential in a young officer named Eve Dallas and took her under his wing. He taught her to be the outstanding homicide cop that she is today. Feeney is not only Eve’s mentor, but the closest thing to a father figure the Eve has ever known. Now Feeney is the head of the EED. Since electronics are usually part of any murder investigation, Eve often spends time on each investigation going over evidence or just bouncing ides of Feeney whenever needed.
When she stepped in, he gave her a quick, hard study, nodded.
“This is fucked up.”
“That’s what I was missing. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the right term. ‘Fucked up’ it is.”
With another nod, he walked over to the AutoChef. “I’m programming us a couple of spinach smoothies.”
“I’ll pass. For the rest of my natural life.”
“Just what you need,” he insisted, tapped buttons manually. And came out with two cups of coffee.
“It doesn’t look like spinach.” It only took one sniff. “Smells like coffee. Real coffee. Roarke coffee.”
“I got connections. Programmed it in as spinach smoothie. Not one of my kids is going to touch that option should lives depend on it. It ain’t loaded with sugar or caffeine, they ain’t going near it.”
“Smarts like that are why you’re Captain.”
“Damn straight.”
– Obsession in Death
“Feeney.” When he turned at her door, she cocked her head. “You said there were three reasons you wanted in. You only gave me two.”
“Number three, I missed you, Dallas.” He grinned. “Damn if I haven’t missed you.”
She was smiling when she sat down to work. Damn if she hadn’t missed him too.
– Glory in Death
She couldn’t afford to be relieved, not yet, and only nodded. “Thanks, Feeney.”
She slipped back inside. “You’re free to go.”
He stood as she stepped backward through the open door. “Just like that?”
“We have no reason, at this time, to detain or inconvenience you any further.”
“Inconvenience?” He walked toward her until the doors snickered shut at his back. “Is that what you call this? An inconvenience?”
He was, she told her herself, entitled to his anger, to his bitterness. She was obligated to do her job. “Three women are dead. Every possibility has to be explored.”
“And I’m just one of your possibilities?” He reached out, the sudden violent movement of his hands closing over her shirt, surprising her. “Is that what it comes down to between us?”
“I’m a cop. I can’t afford to overlook anything, to assume anything.”
“To trust,” he interrupted. “Anything. Or anyone. If it has leaned a little the other way, would you have locked me up? Would you have put me in a cage, Eve?”
“Back off.” Eyes blazing, Feeney strode down the corridor. “Back fucking off.”
“Leave us alone, Feeney.”
“Hell I will.” Ignoring Eve, he shoved against Roarke. “Don’t you come down on her, big shot. She went to bat for you. And the way things stand, it could have cost her the job. Simpson’s already prepping her as a sacrificial lamb because she was dumb enough to sleep with you.”
“Shut up, Feeney.”
“Goddamn it, Dallas.”
“I said shut up.” Calm again, detached, she looked at Roarke. “The department appreciates your cooperation,” she said to Roarke and, prying his hand from her shirt, turned and hurried off.
“What the hell did you mean by that?” Roarke demanded.
Feeney only snorted. “I got better things to do than waste my time on you.”
Roarke backed him into a wall. “You’re going to be free to book me for assaulting an officer in about two breaths, Feeney. Tell me what you meant about Simpson?”
“You want to know, big shot?” Feeney looked around for a place of comparative privacy, jerked a head toward the door of a men’s room. “Come into my office, and I’ll tell you.”
– Naked in Death
“He really caught you a good one.” Eve crouched down to where Feeney sat under the ministrations of a medtech. She pursed her lips as she examined the long, shallow gash that scored his cheek. “Been a while since you took one in the face, huh?”
“I don’t stick my nose in the knothole as often as other people. You and me, we’re going to go a round, Dallas. I taught you better than that. Adding a hostage—“
“Do I look like a hostage? I don’t recall getting locked to my desk chair with my own restrains lately.”
Feeney sighed. “Dumb luck that worked. And dumb luck—“
“Is a nice bonus to solid police work. Somebody told me that once.” She smiled at him, laid a hand over his. Under his touch, his hand turned to their fingers linked.
“Don’t think I owe you one. Not for dumb luck. And you make sure your man knows that – ah – business about banging and whatnot was just smoke.”
“I know he’s seething with a black jealousy and planning on whomping on you, but I’ll do what I can to calm him down.”
– Purity in Death
“Get the hell out of the way.” Feeney came in like a steamroller, a dozen uniforms in his wake. “Police business.”
“Eve!” Roarke’s blood drained even as he muscled his way onto the elevator.
“Stay out of the way, Roarke.”
“The fuck I will.”
Feeney flicked his eyes over, measured. No way he was going to spare a couple of cops to restrain a civilian, and he had a hunch this civilian would go to the wall, as he would for Eve.
– Naked in Death
