"Observation," he began, though they both knew he was losing ground.

"Isn't enough." She shook her head. "Face-to-face, and this time I know he won't be controlling the situation. The cop wants to be in that room with him because I may be able to help Liz get a confession out of him. I was there. Victim, witness, police officer. Makes me a triple threat."

"And still doesn't make it my call. It's up to Detective Alberta, her captain and the DA. The DA," Dave continued before she could speak, "who fishes with Arnie's daddy."

"Whoever he fishes with, Parnell's always struck me as solid. Do you really think he'll ease off an investigation of an attack on a police officer because he's buddied up with the father of a suspect?"

"It's a lot of who-you-know in Savannah, Phoebe, just like anywhere else. But I'll agree, Parnell's solid. Meeks is bringing his delegate and a lawyer in with him. Annie Utz is lawyered, too."

"All the more reason for me to give Liz-Detective Alberta-some backup-someone well invested who doesn't give a damn who Arnie's daddy drowns worms with. And I'll tell you something else. Having two women question him, put pressure on him?"

She wandered the office as she spoke now, because she could feel it, she could see it. She could all but taste it. "Oh, Arnie's not going to like that one little bit. He'll make a mistake. He'll end up leading with his ego, especially if I'm in there. Not your call, Captain, but you could make one. You could reach out to Detective Alberta's captain or her lieutenant, ask that I get a seat."

"I'll make a call, but I'm not making any promises."

"Any worthwhile negotiator's careful with his promises." She touched a hand to his shoulder. "The call's enough. Thank you."

"If you buy a ticket into the interrogation, have to deal with him that way, I might not have done you any favor. How's your family handling this?"

"It shook them up. My mother… you know how it is."

"I do. Would me coming by help things or add to them?"

"Mama always feels better after a visit from you. We all do. Why don't you come to Sunday dinner?"

He kicked back in his chair. "Would that mean sugar-glazed ham?"

"It could be arranged. Thanks for this."

"Phoebe…" Straightening again, he cleared his throat. "I want to say I regret there's been any speculation or gossip inside the department regarding an inappropriate relationship between us."

"Such as me giving you bj's in your office."

"Oh, Jesus." The tips of his ears went pink, as she knew they did when he was mortally embarrassed. "I'm old enough to be your father."

"First, you'd have been a very precocious fifteen to have pulled that one off. Second, since when does age factor into inappropriate sexual behavior? Neither of us is responsible for the speculation of small, ugly minds."

He picked up a ballpoint pen, clicked it a few times. "I opened you up for this when I asked you to take the desk in this department."

"You gave me an opportunity-which I grabbed-to do the work I'm good at. Am I qualified for the desk?"

"You know you are."

"There you are, then."

"Meeks, junior and/or senior, may push this into IAB."

"And we can both stand up to that, should that happen. Don't worry about me in this."

But he did. Even as he lifted the phone to put in the call she'd asked for, he worried.

Phoebe had a moment alone in Observation, studying Arnie Meeks through the two-way mirror. He looked careless, she decided. Carelessly confident. A kind of screw-you posture of a man who believes whatever he's done isn't going to stick to him.

He'd know he was being watched, or could be watched at any time. He didn't give a damn, Phoebe concluded.

And when she imagined his hands on her, his fingers inside her, her stomach rolled.

She gave too much of a damn.

"Lieutenant." Liz stepped in with a tall, reed-thin brunette. "ADA Monica Witt, Lieutenant Phoebe MacNamara."

"Lieutenant." Monica shook hands with Phoebe. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks. I take it you'll be prosecuting the case."

"If you can make one. We have Annie Utz's statement, and her phone, which shows an outgoing call at nine fifty-eight. We can't tie that to Arnold Meeks. The number called was to a toss-away phone, untraceable. We don't have any physical evidence linking Meeks to the attack."

"You have motive. You have opportunity, and a pattern of insubordinate and threatening behavior."

"My boss wants more than that to charge a police officer with assault and battery, with sexual assault on a fellow officer. Get me more, and I'll charge him."

Two men stepped in. Phoebe recognized Liz's lieutenant, nodded in acknowledgment. Just as she recognized, through the strong family resemblance, Arnie Meeks's father.

He was thicker than his son through the chest, stronger along the jawline, harder in the eyes. But there was no mistaking the relationship. Just as there was no mistaking the insulted anger that pumped off him despite his ramrod posture.

"Lieutenant Anthony and Sergeant Meeks will also be observing."

"We'll get started." Liz walked to the door, held it open as Phoebe followed.

"When my boy's clear of this," Sergeant Meeks said as he shifted to block Phoebe's path, "and his suspension lifted, this won't be over for you, Lieutenant MacNamara."

"Sergeant, you're here as a courtesy." Anthony laid a hand on his arm. "Don't abuse that courtesy."

Phoebe moved around him to the door of the interrogation room. "Like father," she said under her breath.

"Shake it off," Liz advised. "I take the lead on this."

"We've been this round before."

"Just a friendly reminder." Opening the door, she walked in.

He didn't spare Liz so much as a look, Phoebe noted. His eyes aimed straight for her, held.

"Boys." Liz smiled easily, with a nod toward the trio at the table.

She set the recorder, fed in the data, read Arnie his rights. "You understand all that, Officer Meeks?"

"I've given the Miranda enough times, I better."

"That's a yes?"

"Yeah, I understand my rights. Shouldn't you be in bed somewhere with an ice pack and some Darvon?" he asked Phoebe.

"Arnie."

Arnie shrugged off the quiet warning from his attorney.

"I'm surprised by your concern, Arnie," Liz began. "The way I hear it, you're not Lieutenant MacNamara's biggest fan."

"I don't think much of her as a cop. Then again, she's not much of one seeing as all she does is talk."

"We'll save your definition of 'much of a cop' for later, if it's all the same to you." Smooth as top cream, Liz kept an easy smile on her face. "The two of you-meaning you and Lieutenant MacNamara-have had a couple of set-tos recently. Is that true?"

"My client stipulates that he and Lieutenant MacNamara hold opposing viewpoints and professional styles. Those are hardly motives for a physical attack on her person. The lack of evidence-"

"We're talking here," Liz said. "Just getting things out on the table. Arnie, you don't much like Lieutenant MacNamara. Is that fair to say?" Arnie kept his smirk aimed at Phoebe. "Yeah, that's fair."

"Did you have occasion to call Lieutenant MacNamara a bitch?"

"I call them as I see them."

"So, she's a bitch?" At Arnie's shrug, Liz nodded. "And you have no particular problem calling a superior officer a bitch? No problem threatening her when she took disciplinary action?"

"There's only Lieutenant MacNamara's word on this alleged threat," the lawyer interrupted.

"That, and…" Liz flipped through her file. "The statements of two detectives who observed your client in the lieutenant's office behaving in what they believed was a threatening manner."

"Their beliefs aren't fact."

"Arnie, do you remember why you were in Lieutenant MacNamara's office on Thursday last?"