The In Death Collection 06-10 (132 page)

“Yeah, doesn’t quite fit the bill. You get pictures?”

“Oh, you bet.”

“We’ll just get some to back up the record. Then I’ll need it bagged and sealed and shipped to the lab. Get all angles, Peabody.”

Eve rose, moved to the side, and called Feeney. “I’m sending this droid into the lab. I need someone from EDD to go in and work with Dickhead’s team. I want to run his programming back. Can we interface with our system? Get a playback of the night Zeke was there?”

“Might.”

“And can we dig in enough to get a time frame for the programming and the programmer?”

“It’s not impossible. Much damage?”

She glanced back as Peabody got the crater in the skull on record. “Considerable.”

“We’ll do what we can. Does this put Zeke out of it?”

“No law against killing a droid. He could get it on destruction of property, but I don’t think the Bransons will pursue that angle.”

Feeney smiled. “Good work. Want me to tell him?”

“No.” She looked back at Peabody. “Let him hear it from his sister.” She pocketed her communicator and signaled to Peabody. “We’re done here. Let’s move.”

“Dallas.” She walked over, laid a hand on Eve’s arm. “I was afraid when we came down here. Afraid you’d been wrong. I knew, in my head, that even if it was Branson, it would go down as an accident, just the way Zeke said. He wouldn’t have gone to jail, but he’d have paid for it. All his life.”

“Now you can tell him he doesn’t have to.”

“He should hear it from you. You weren’t wrong,” she said before Eve could speak. “And it’ll matter more.”

Zeke’s hands dangled between his knees. Slumped over, he stared at them as if they belonged to a stranger. “I
don’t understand this.” He spoke slowly, again as if the voice were someone else’s and just happened to come out of his mouth. “You say it was a droid that just looked like Mr. Branson.”

“You didn’t kill anyone, Zeke.” Eve leaned toward him. “Get that in your head first.”

“But he fell. He hit his head. There was blood.”

“It fell, as it was directed to fall. There was blood because blood had been injected under its skin shield. Branson’s blood. It was put there to make you think you’d killed him.”

“But why? I’m sorry, Dallas, but that’s just crazy.”

“Part of a game. He’s dead—his body conveniently disposed of by his terrified and abused wife who’s now run away. They can be anyone they want to be, anywhere they want to be, and with a big pile of money to hide in. They thought they’d have a lot more by the time we figured this out. If we ever did.”

“He
hit
her.” Zeke’s head snapped up. “I heard it—I saw it.”

“A show, an act. A few bruises were a small price to pay for winning the whole match. They’d already arranged for his brother’s death. They had to be able to access all the fluid cash from the company. Once B. D.’s gone—branded, they’d hoped, as a wife beater, marital rapist, they pick up their new lives. He’s cleaned out the cash flow from all accounts. We’d probably have looked at that as just one more vicious act on his part. But they left holes.”

He shook his head, and fighting impatience, she tried to explain quickly. “Why does a man like that let his wife go off to a spa out west, spend time on her own? He doesn’t even trust her out of the front door from what she told me in interview. But he lets her bring you into the house. He’s insanely jealous, but it’s fine and dandy to have a young, good-looking guy in the same house with his wife all day. And she can barely decide to get out of bed in the morning, but she gets in gear, orders
a droid to ditch her dead husband’s body, and gets it done in the time it takes you to get her a glass of water. All while she’s in shock.”

“She can’t have been involved,” Zeke whispered.

“It’s the only way it can play. She’s lived with a man she claims beats her for nearly ten years, but she’s ready to leave him to go with you, someone she barely knows—and this after two conversations about her situation.”

“We fell in love.”

“She loves no one. She used you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t know.” His voice lowered and went fierce. “You can’t know what we felt for each other. What she felt for me.”

“Zeke—”

Eve simply lifted her fingers from her knee to stop Peabody’s protest. “You’re right, I can’t know what you felt. But I can know that you killed no one. I can know that the woman who said she loved you set you up to take the fall. I can know that that same woman was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people this last week. One of them was a friend of mine. That I can know.”

She rose, started to walk out of the room, when Mavis burst in.

“Hey, Dallas!” Smile brilliant, hair a purple explosion of curls, eyes the disconcerting shade of copper, Mavis threw open her arms and sent the twelve-inch emerald fringe running from armpit to wrist flying. “I’m back.”

“Mavis.” Eve struggled to switch gears from the miserable to the absurd. “I thought you were back next week.”

“That was last week, now it
is
next week. Dallas, man, I was seismic! Hey, Peabody.” Her laughing eyes landed on Zeke and sobered even as she winced. Even someone dancing on Mavis’s level of happy could sense the anger and grief. “Oops, bad timing, huh?”

“No. It’s great. Come outside a minute.” Eve jerked her head at Peabody, signaling her to deal with Zeke, and moved outside the office with Mavis. “It’s good to see you.” And suddenly it was more than good. Mavis, with her stupendously ridiculous wardrobe, her ever-changing hair, her sheer delight with herself, was the perfect antidote for misery.

“It’s great to see you.” Eve caught her in a fierce embrace that had Mavis giggling even as she gave Eve’s back soothing pats.

“Wow. You missed me.”

“I did. I really did.” Eve stepped back and grinned at her. “You kicked ass, didn’t you?”

“I did. I really did.” The narrow corridor didn’t stop Mavis from turning three fast circles on her platform airpumps. “It was orbital, it was mag, it was beyond the ult. I came to see you, but my next stop is Roarke, and I figure I should warn you I’m going to kiss him hard right on the mouth.”

“No tongues.”

“Spoilsport.” Mavis shook back her curls, angled her head. “You look beat, wasted, absolutely dead.”

“Thanks, just what I needed to perk up my day.”

“No, I mean it. I caught some of what’s been going on—didn’t have much time for screen, but what I didn’t catch, people were talking about. I don’t buy this Urban Wars revival crap. I mean who wants to run around blasting people in the streets all the damn time? It’s so, you know, last century. So what’s up?”

Eve smiled and felt wonderful doing it. “Oh, nothing much. Just a whacked terrorist group blowing up landmark property and blackmailing the city for millions of dollars. Some droids tried to kill me, but I took them out. Peabody’s brother’s here from Arizona and got pulled into the mix because he fell for some lying slut bomber and thought he killed her husband by accident. But he only took out another droid.”

“Gee, is that all? I’ve been gone for a while. I figured you’d be busy.”

“Roarke and I had kind of a fight, then terrific makeup sex.”

Mavis’s face brightened. “That’s more like it. Why don’t you take a break and tell me all about it?”

“Can’t. I’m busy saving the city from destruction, but you can do me a favor.”

“Since you put it that way. What?”

“Zeke, Peabody’s brother. I need to keep him under wraps. No media, no outside contacts. I’m sending him to my place, but I know Roarke’s busy, and I don’t want to stick the poor guy with Summerset. Can you take him over, hang awhile?”

“Sure, Leonardo’s busy on some designs. I’ve got plenty of swing time. I can keep him happy at your place.”

“Thanks. Just call Summerset. He’ll send a car for you.”

“I bet he’ll send the limo if I ask nice.” Delighted with the prospect, she turned for the door. “Well, intro me so Zeke knows who he’s going to be playing with today.”

“No. Peabody’ll do it. He doesn’t want to see me right now. He needs to be mad at someone—I’m it. Just tell her to meet me in the garage. We’ve got places to go.”

“You’ve had a rough time, Zeke.” Mavis licked pink frosting from her fingers and contemplated eating another of the pretty little cakes Summerset had served them.
Control, greed,
she mused.
Control. Greed. Let’s hear it for greed,
she decided and plucked up another.

“I’m so worried about Clarissa.” He sat, steeped in his unhappiness.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He’d started out shy with her so that she’d had to pry every second word out of him. So she’d chattered away
for the first hour, about her tour, about Leonardo, adding little anecdotes about Peabody that had wormed through his defenses.

When she’d seen him smile for the first time, Mavis had sensed victory. She’d drawn him into talking about his work. She didn’t understand a damn thing, but she’d made interested noises and kept her glowing, copper-colored eyes on his face.

They’d settled into the main parlor in front of the fire Summerset had built in anticipation of her arrival. And when Summerset had brought in the tea and cakes, Zeke had taken a cup out of politeness.

By the time Mavis had charmed, nagged, and bullied the full story out of him, Zeke had gone through two cups of tea and three cakes.

He felt better. Then felt guilty because of it. When he’d been detained at Cop Central, it had seemed he was paying for his crimes, for not completing his ride to Clarissa’s rescue. But here in the beautiful house, with the fire crackling and his body warm from fragrant tea, it was like being rewarded for his sins.

Mavis curled her legs under her and felt as comfortable as the cat who stretched out on the top of the sofa above her. “Dallas said you killed a droid.”

Zeke jolted, set down his tea. “I know, but I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“What did Peabody say?”

“She said—she said it was a mechanical they pulled out of the river, but—”

“Maybe she’s saying that to make you feel better.” Mavis turned her body toward him, nodded with her eyes wide and guileless. “Maybe she’s covering up for you. Oh, and I know! She’s blackmailing Dallas to go along with it so you get away with the whole thing.”

The idea was so absurd, he would have laughed. But he was too shocked to do more than goggle. “Dee would never do that. She couldn’t.”

“Oh.” Mavis pursed her lips into a pout, then moved
her shoulders. “Well, I guess she must have told you straight then, huh? I guess it must be like they said, and you knocked over a droid that looked like this Branson guy. Otherwise, Peabody’d be lying and breaking the law.”

He hadn’t put one and one together in quite that way before. Now that Mavis had, he stared down at his hands. Thoughts whirled inside his head. “But if it was a droid . . . Clarissa. Dallas thinks Clarissa did all this. She has to be wrong.”

“Maybe. She’s hardly ever wrong about this sort of thing though.” Mavis stretched luxuriously, but her eyes stayed sharp on Zeke’s. It was getting through, she thought. Poor guy. “Let’s say Clarissa didn’t know it was a droid. She really thought you’d offed her husband, and then . . . oh that won’t work.” She furrowed her brow. “I mean, gee, unless they ditched the body, the cops would’ve tagged it as a droid right off. She’s the one who got rid of the body, right?”

“Yes.” It was indeed getting through, and his heart cracked like an egg. “She was . . . scared.”

“Yeah, well, who wouldn’t be, but if she hadn’t lost the body, it would’ve been all over that same night. Nobody would’ve thought Branson was dead. The cops wouldn’t have wasted all that time and given Branson the lead to get clear and stuff. I guess, hmmm.” She tilted her head. “I guess if Dallas hadn’t figured a droid, they’d never have found the body anyway. Then everybody would think the guy was fish food, and Clarissa had run off because she was so weirded by the whole scene. Wow!”

She sat up as if the idea had just occurred to her. “That means if Dallas hadn’t clicked to it and pushed until she had the proof, they’d have gotten away with it, and you’d still believe you’d killed a guy.”

“Oh God.” It didn’t just get through now. It burst through, ripping out his guts. “What have I done?”

“You didn’t do anything, honey.” Mavis swung her
legs off the sofa, leaned forward to lay a hand over his. “They did it all. Danced a number over you. All you did was be who you are. A nice guy who believes the best of people.”

“I have to think.” He got shakily to his feet.

“Sure you do. You want to lie down? They’ve got amazing guest rooms in this place.”

“No, I . . . I said I’d work on Dallas’s car. That’s what I’ll do. I think better when I’m using my hands.”

“Okay.”

She made him put on his coat, bundled him up, and added a motherly peck on the cheek. Closing the door behind him, she turned, and let out a squeak of surprise when she saw Roarke on the steps.

“You’re a good friend, Mavis.”

“Roarke!” This time she squealed and bounded up the steps. “I got something for you. Dallas said I could.” With this, she threw her arms around him and gave him a hard, noisy kiss.