field, not here.” He turned his attention to Ronan and got down to the other reason he’d come out of his office rather than summon the detective in to see him. “Since the body count is up to five, I’m thinking maybe you need a little extra help.”
Ronan’s expression darkened just a shade. He had Choi and Martinez working with him. He didn’t want any “extra” help. Nor did he like what was being inferred. That he couldn’t do the job.
“We’ll get him,” he told Carver with the sort of finality that was known to end discussions.
Another man might have backed off, but dark looks and growled responses had no effect on Carver. In general, that was his domain. “I know you will.”
Whether that was meant to be patronizing or it was actually an honest statement was anyone’s guess, Ronan thought. But an inner voice told him to brace himself.
He watched as Carver turned, glanced over his shoulder to the far end of the squad room and then beckoned. “Carlyle, mind coming over here?” It was not a question but a civilly worded command.
Having been forewarned a few minutes earlier by Carver as to what the lieutenant proposed to have happen, Detective Sierra Carlyle was on her feet as soon as he uttered her name.
Aware that more than one set of eyes was on her, she wove her way between the desks that littered the squad room until she reached Carver.
Although she didn’t make eye contact with Ronan, she was instinctively aware of the fact that he appeared to be glaring at her. Well, she thought, this hadn’t been her choice, but now that it had been made, she intended to go along with it to the best of her ability. Her job was to follow a superior’s orders whenever possible, not to buck them.
With an acknowledging nod in her direction, Carver turned back to the man he’d selected to head the current investigation.
“Okay, O’Bannon,” Carver announced, “as of right now, consider Detective Carlyle part of your team.”
Ronan did not look pleased. “I don’t get a say in this?” he asked, his voice all but rumbling from deep within the caverns of his chest.
“Sure you do,” Carver loftily answered the younger man. “You get to say yes.” The lieutenant glanced around at the team, now increased by one. “You take that empty desk,” he told Sierra, pointing to the one butted up against O’Bannon’s. “Any other questions?” When no one said anything in response, Carver nodded, satisfied. “Didn’t think so.”
Placing the piece of notepaper he was holding with the current crime scene’s address on Ronan’s desk, he stepped back.
“All right, that’s the location of your newest dead body,” he told Ronan. “A drunk patron of the Shamrock Inn tripped over the body while apparently trying to duck out the back way to avoid paying his tab.” Carver laughed under his breath. “Seeing that body lying there was definitely enough to scare him sober,” he commented. He spared one last glance at the now team of four. “Okay. Do me proud. Solve this damn thing before it gets completely out of hand.”
“You ask me, it’s already out of hand,” Choi murmured under his breath the moment the lieutenant left the scene. Turning his attention to the detective who had just been added to their team, the father of three smiled broadly at her. “You can ride with me to the crime scene.”
Nick Martinez instantly came to attention. He moved in to flank Sierra’s other side. “If you want to arrive there in one piece, Carlyle, you can ride with me,” he offered.
Choi appeared annoyed at the inference. “Hey, what’s wrong with the way I drive?”
Martinez gave the other man a look that quipped, “Really?” Out loud he said, “Can’t go into it now. It would take too long and we’ve got to get to the crime scene.”
Ronan turned from his desk, his dark green eyes washing over the two men he’d been working with for a couple of months now. And then he looked at the woman Carver had added to the mix without so much as a warning—as if the situation wasn’t already difficult enough.
“You’re coming with me before these two jokers decide to play tug-of-war with you.” There wasn’t a hint of humor in his voice as he made the pronouncement.
The last thing Sierra wanted to do was appear to take sides in what she perceived to be some sort of unspoken power struggle.
“If you give me the address,” she told Ronan, who had already slipped the paper Carver had given him into his pocket, “I can drive there myself.”
“Good to know,” Ronan answered drily, making no move to take the paper out of his pocket and show her the address.
O’Bannon had just given her what amounted to a non-answer in her book. And now he was walking out of the squad room. Biting back a comment, she forced herself to hurry to keep up. Martinez and Choi were right behind her.
“So do you want me to drive myself over to the scene of the crime or not?” Sierra asked.
“Not,” Ronan answered, pressing for the elevator.
The elevator arrived the second he took his index finger off the down button. Ronan walked into the empty car and was quickly followed by the other three members of his team.
“Not very talkative, are you?” Sierra said, moving so that she was standing right next to him.
“Pet rocks have been known to talk more than O’Bannon does,” Choi told her. Both he and Martinez were behind her and the lead detective.
Not to be left out, Martinez assured her, “You’ll get used to it.”
Sierra slanted a look at the man to her right. He seemed oblivious to the conversation around him, although she couldn’t see how he didn’t hear them.
“I really doubt it,” she answered Martinez with sincerity.
The elevator doors parted on the first floor. Ronan spared her a glance just before he got off. He had one word for her.
“Try.”
And then he took off again, making her hurry if she wanted to keep up. At about a foot taller than she was, O’Bannon’s stride was a good deal wider than hers.
“Or,” she suggested, determined to keep pace, “you could try using sentences containing more than just one word.”
Ronan made no attempt to answer her. He continued walking toward the rear exit and then made his way through the parking lot until he came to where he had parked his vehicle. Only after he released the door locks did he turn toward the other two detectives who’d kept pace with him. He told them the address he’d been given by Carver.
“Got it,” Martinez said, nodding. It was a given that he was driving the other car. “We’ll be right behind you.”
It was unclear, at least to Sierra, whether the other detective had said that to O’Bannon or to her in an effort to let her know she wouldn’t be alone with their wooden leader.
Getting into the passenger side of O’Bannon’s car, Sierra buckled up. The second she secured her seat belt, O’Bannon
