Rapture in Death (4 page)

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Authors: J. D. Robb

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #New York (N.Y.), #Women Sleuths, #Mystery Fiction, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedural, #Suspense Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Science Fiction, #Political, #Romance - Suspense, #Policewomen, #Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, #Mystery & Detective - Police Procedural, #Mystery & Detective - General, #Virtual Reality, #Eve (Fictitious character), #Dallas, #Dallas; Eve (Fictitious Character), #Policewoman - New York (State) - New York, #Policewoman

BOOK: Rapture in Death
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She dragged Eve to a sticky table, punched up the menu. “What do you want? It’s on me. Crack pays me pretty solid for the couple gigs a week I do here. He’s going to be dredged that he missed you. Oh, I’m so glad to see you. You look terrific. You look happy. Doesn’t she look terrific, Peabody? Sex is so, like, therapeutic, right?”

Eve laughed again, knowing she’d come just for this. Mindless entertainment. “Just a couple of fizz waters, Mavis. We’re on duty.”

“Oh, like somebody in here’s going to report you. Unbutton that uniform some, Peabody. I’m getting hot just looking at you. How was Paris? How was the island? How was the resort? Did he fuck your brains out everywhere?”

“Beautiful, wonderful, interesting, and yeah, he did. How’s Leonardo?”

Mavis’s eyes went dreamy. She smiled and poked a silver-tipped nail onto the menu board. “He’s terrific. Cohabitating’s better than I thought it would be. He designed this costume for me.”

Eve studied the thin silver straps that almost covered Mavis’s tidy apple breasts. “Is that what you call it?”

“I’ve got this new number, see. Oh, I’ve got so much to tell you.” She snagged the fizz water when it plopped through the slot. “I don’t know where to start. There’s this guy, this music engineer. I’m working with him. We’re doing a disc, Eve — full treatment. He’s sure he can peddle it. He’s great, Jess Barrow. He was blazing a couple years back with his own stuff. Maybe you heard of him.”

“No.” Eve knew that, for a woman who’d lived on the streets a large portion of her life, Mavis remained stunningly naive about certain matters. “How much are you paying him?”

“It’s not like that.” Mavis’s lips moved into a pout. “I’ve got to dish up the recording fee, sure. That’s the way it works; and if we hit, he takes sixty percent for the first three years. After that we renegotiate.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Peabody commented. She’d unfastened her collar button — a tribute to her fondness for Mavis. “He had a couple of major hits a couple years ago, and he was hooked up with Cassandra.” At Eve’s arched brow, she shrugged. “The singer, you know.”

“You a music lover, Peabody? You never fail to amaze me.”

“I like to listen to tunes,” Peabody muttered into her bubbly water. “Like anyone.”

“Well, the Cassandra connection’s dumped,” Mavis said cheerfully. “He’s been looking for a new vocalist. And that’s me.”

Eve wondered what else he might be looking for. “What does Leonardo think?”

“He thinks it’s mag. You’ve got to come to the studio, Eve, catch us in action. Jess is a certified genius.”

She intended to catch them in action. The list of people Eve loved was very short. And Mavis was on it.

She waited until she was back in the car with Peabody, heading to Cop Central. “Run a make on Jess Barrow, Peabody.”

Without surprise, Peabody took out her diary, plugged in the order. “Mavis isn’t going to like that.”

“She doesn’t have to know, does she.”

Eve veered around a glide-cart offering frozen fruit on a stick, then swung onto Tenth where automated jackhammers were tearing up the street again. Overhead, an ad blimp hawked a shoppers’ special at Bloomingdale’s. Pre-season sale on winter coats in the men’s, women’s, and unisex department, twenty percent off. Such a deal.

She spotted the man in the trench coat shambling toward a trio of girls and sighed.

“Shit. There’s Clevis.”

“Clevis?”

“This is his turf,” Eve said simply as she pulled into a loading zone. “I used to do this drag when I was in uniform. He’s been around for years. Come on, Peabody, let’s spare the little children.”

She stepped onto the sidewalk, skirting a pair of men arguing over baseball. From the smell of them, she judged they’d been standing in the heat arguing for much too long. She shouted once, but the jackhammers swallowed her voice. Resigned, she picked up her pace and intercepted Clevis before he reached the unsuspecting, pink-cheeked girls.

“Hey, Clevis.”

He blinked at her through the pale lenses of sunscreens. His hair was sandy blond and curly around a face as innocent as a cherub’s. He was eighty, if he was a day. “Dallas. Hey, Dallas. I haven’t seen you in a big blue moon.” He flashed big white teeth as he sized up Peabody. “Who’s this?”

“Peabody, this is Clevis. Clevis, you aren’t going to bother those little girls, are you?”

“No, shit, uh-uh. I wasn’t going to bother them.” He wiggled his brows. “I was just going to show ‘em, is all.”

“You don’t want to do that, Clevis. You ought to get inside, out of this heat.”

“I like it hot.” He wheezed out a chuckle. “There they go,” he said with a sigh, as the trio of girls ran laughing across the street. “Guess I won’t be able to show ‘em today. I’ll show you.”

“Clevis, don’t — ” Then Eve huffed out a breath. He’d already pulled his trench coat apart. Under it, he was naked but for a bright blue bow tied celebrationally around his withered cock. “Very nice, Clevis. That’s a good color for you. Matches your eyes.” She put a companionable hand on his shoulder. “Let’s take a ride, okay?”

“Okeedokee. Do you like blue, Peabody?”

Peabody nodded solemnly as she opened the back door of the unit, helped him inside. “Blue’s my favorite color.” She shut the door of the vehicle, met Eve’s laughing eyes. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

“It’s good to be back, Peabody. All in all, it’s good to be back.”

It was also good to be home. Eve drove through the high, iron gates that guarded the towering fortress. It was less of a shock now, to glide along the curving drive through those well-tended lawns and flowering trees toward the elegant stone and glass house where she now lived.

The contrast of where she worked and where she lived no longer seemed quite so jarring. It was quiet here — the kind of quiet in a massive city only the very rich could afford. She could hear birdsong, see the sky, smell the sweet aroma of freshly shorn grass. Minutes away, only minutes, was the teeming, noisy, sweating mass of New York.

Here, she supposed, was sanctuary. As much for Roarke as for herself.

Two lost souls. He’d once called them that. She wondered if they’d stopped being lost when they’d found each other.

She left her car at the front entrance, knowing its battered body and tasteless shape would offend Summerset, Roarke’s poker-backed butler. It was a simple matter to switch it to automatic, send it around the house and into the slot reserved for her unit in the garage, but she enjoyed her petty needling when it came to Summerset.

She opened the door and found him standing in the grand foyer with a sniff in his nose and a sneer on his lips.

“Lieutenant, your vehicle is unsightly.”

“Hey, it’s city property.” She reached down to pick up the fat, odd-eyed cat who’d come to greet her. “You don’t want it there, move it yourself.”

She heard a trill of laughter float down the hall, lifted a brow. “Company?”

“Indeed.” With his disapproving eye, Summerset scanned her wilted shirt and slacks, skimmed over the weapon harness still strapped to her side. “I suggest you bathe and change before meeting your guests.”

“I suggest you kiss my ass,” she said cheerfully and strolled by him.

In the main salon, filled with treasures Roarke had collected from around the known universe, an elegant, intimate party was happening. Glossy canapes sat elegantly on silver trays, pale gold wine filled sparkling crystal. Roarke was a dark angel in what he would have seen as casual attire. The black silk shirt open at the collar, the perfectly draped black trousers cinched with a belt gleaming silver at the buckle suited him perfectly, made him look exactly as he was: rich, gorgeous, dangerous.

Only one couple joined him in the spacious room. The man was as bright as Roarke was dark. Long golden hair flowed over the shoulders of a snug blue jacket. The face was square and handsome with lips just slightly too thin, but the contrast of his dark brown eyes kept the observer from noticing.

The woman was stunning. A sweep of deep red hair the color of rich wine was scooped up into curls that tumbled flirtatiously down the nape of her neck. Her eyes were green, sharp as a cat’s, and over them were shapely brows as black as ink. She had skin like alabaster creamed over high cheekbones and a sensually generous mouth.

Her body matched it and was currently poured into a clinging column of emerald that left strong shoulders bare and dipped between her staggering breasts to the waist.

“Roarke.” She let out that fluid laugh again, slid one slim white hand into Roarke’s mane of hair and kissed him silkily. “I have missed you dreadfully.”

Eve thought about the weapon strapped to her side and how, on even its lowest setting, it would send the bombshell redhead into a jittery dance. Just a passing thought, Eve assured herself, and set Galahad the cat down before she squeezed through the layers of fat and cracked one of his ribs.

“You didn’t miss him that time,” Eve said casually as she stepped inside. Roarke, damn him, glanced over and grinned at her.

We’ll just have to wipe that smug look off your face, pal, she thought. Real soon.

“Eve, we didn’t hear you come in.”

“Obviously.” She snagged an unidentifiable canape from the tray and stuffed it into her mouth.

“I don’t believe you’ve met our guests. Reeanna Ott, William Shaffer, my wife, Eve Dallas.”

“Watch yourself, Ree, she’s armed.” With a chuckle, William crossed over to extend a hand. He moved in a lope, like a thin horse going out to pasture. “A pleasure to meet you, Eve. A genuine pleasure. Ree and I were so disappointed we were unable to attend your wedding.”

“Devastated.” Reeanna smiled at Eve, her green eyes sparkling. “William and I were desperate to meet, face to face, the woman who brought Roarke to his knees.”

“He’s still standing.” Eve flicked Roarke a glance as he handed her a glass of wine. “For now.”

“Ree and William were in the lab on Tarus Three, working on some projects for me. They’ve just gotten back on planet for some well deserved R and R.”

“Oh?” Like she gave a rat’s skinny ass.

“The on-the-board project’s been a particular pleasure,” William said. “Within a year, two at most, Roarke Industries will introduce new technology that will revolutionize the entertainment and amusement world.”

“Entertainment and amusement.” Eve smiled thinly. “Well, that’s earth shattering.”

“Actually, it has the potential to be just that.” Reeanna sipped her wine and sized Eve up: attractive, irritated, competent. Tough. “There are potential medical breakthroughs as well.”

“That’s Ree’s end.” William lifted his glass to her with easy, intimate affection in his eyes. “She’s the med expert. I’m just a fun guy.”

“I’m sure, after putting in a long day, Eve doesn’t want to hear us talk shop. Scientists,” Reeanna said with an apologetic smile. “We’re so tedious. You’re just back from Olympus.” Silk whispered as Reeanna shifted that staggering body. “William and I were part of the team that designed the amusement and medical centers there. Did you have time to tour them?”

“Briefly.” She was being rude, Eve reminded herself. She would have to become accustomed to coming home and finding elegant company, to seeing gorgeous women drool over her husband. “Very impressive, even at mid-construction stage. The medical facility will be more so when it’s staffed. Was the hologram room in the main hotel yours?” Eve asked William.

“Guilty,” he said with a sparkle. “I love to play. Do you?”

“Eve considers it work. As it happens, we had an incident while we were there,” Roarke put in. “A suicide. One of the autotronic techs. Mathias?”

William’s brow furrowed. “Mathias… young, red hair, freckles?”

“Yes.”

“Good God.” He shuddered, drank deeply. “Suicide? Are you sure it wasn’t an accident? My recollection is of an enthusiastic young man with big ideas. Not one who’d take his own life.”

“That’s what he did,” Eve said shortly. “He hanged himself.”

“How horrible.” Pale now, Reeanna sat on the arm of a couch. “Did I know him, William?”

“I don’t think so. You might have seen him at one of the clubs while we were there, but I don’t remember him as much of a socializer.”

“I’m terribly sorry, in any case,” Reeanna said. “And how awful for you to deal with such a tragedy on your honeymoon. Let’s not dwell on it.” Galahad leaped onto the couch, skimmed his head under Reeanna’s elegant hand. “I’d so much rather hear about the wedding we missed.”

“Stay for dinner.” Roarke gave Eve’s arm an apologetic squeeze. “We’ll bore you to tears with it.”

“I wish we could.” William offered Reeanna’s shoulder the same smooth stroke as she gave the cat’s head. “We’re due at the theater. We’re already late.”

“You’re right, as always.” With obvious regret, Reeanna rose. “I hope you’ll give us a rain check. We’ll be on planet for the next month or two, and I’d so love the opportunity to get to know you, Eve. Roarke and I go back… a long way.”

“You’re welcome any time. And I’ll see you both in the office tomorrow, for a full report.”

“Bright and early.” Reeanna set her glass aside. “Perhaps we can have lunch someday soon, Eve. Just females.” Her eyes twinkled with such easy humor that Eve felt foolish. “We can compare notes on Roarke.”

The invitation was too friendly to give offense. Eve found herself smiling. “That should be interesting.” She walked them to the door with Roarke, waved them off. “Just how many notes,” she said as she stepped back, “would there be to compare?”

“It was a long time ago.” He snagged her by the waist for a delayed welcome-home kiss. “Years. Eons.”

“She probably bought that body.”

“I’d have to term it an excellent investment.”

Eve lifted her chin to eye him sourly. “Is there any beautiful woman who hasn’t bounced on your bed?”

Roarke cocked his head, narrowed his eyes in consideration. “No.” He laughed when she took a swing at him. “You didn’t mean that, or you’d have hit me.” Then he grunted when her fist plowed into his gut. He rubbed it, grateful she’d pulled the punch. “I should have quit while I was ahead.”

“Let that be a lesson to you, lover boy.” But Eve let him sweep her off her feet and over his shoulder.

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