The In Death Collection 06-10 (57 page)

Within an hour, the house was full of people and music and light. Scanning the ballroom, Eve could only be grateful Roarke never expected her to have any input into the preparations.

There were huge tables groaning under silver platters of food: honied ham from Virginia, glazed duck from France, rare beef from Montana; lobster, salmon, oysters harvested from the rich beds on Silas I; an array of fresh vegetables picked only that morning and cleverly arranged in patterns. Desserts that would tempt a political prisoner from a hunger strike surrounded a three-foot tree fashioned out of sinfully
rich cake and hung with gleaming marzipan ornaments.

She wondered that it could still amaze her what the man she had married could conjure.

A soaring pine decorated with thousands of white lights and silver stars stood at either end of the ballroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed not the nasty sleet that hissed over the city, but a hologram of a dreamy snowscene where couples skated on a silver pond and young children raced down a gentle slope on shiny red sleds.

Such details, she thought, were so utterly Roarke.

“Hey, sweetheart. All alone in this palace?”

She arched a brow when she felt the hand on her bottom and turned her head slowly to stare at McNab.

He went red, then white, then red again. “Christ! Lieutenant. Sir.”

“Your hand’s on my ass, McNab. I don’t think you want it to be there.”

He snatched it away as if scorched. “God. Man. Shit. Beg your pardon. I didn’t recognize you. I mean . . .” He jammed the hand he sincerely hoped she’d allow him to keep in his pocket. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought . . . You look . . .” Words failed him.

“I believe Detective McNab is trying to compliment you, Eve.” Roarke slipped up beside them and, because it was too much to resist, stared hard into McNab’s panicked eyes. “Weren’t you, Ian?”

“Yeah. That is . . .”

“And if I believed he’d realized it was your ass he was fondling, I’d just have to kill him. Right here.” Roarke reached out and flicked at the strings of McNab’s snazzy red tie. “Right now.”

“Oh, I’d have already taken care of that myself,” Eve said dryly. “You look like you could use a drink, Detective.”

“Yes, sir. I could.”

“Roarke, why don’t you take care of him? Mira just came in. I want to talk to her.”

“Delighted.” Roarke draped an arm around McNab’s shoulder and squeezed just a little harder than comfort allowed.

It took longer than Eve liked to make her way across the room. It amazed her how much people wanted to talk at parties. And about nothing in particular. That was delay enough, but she caught sight of Peabody, looking very un-Peabody-like in sweeping evening pants of dull gold and a trim sleeveless jacket. Her bare arm was tucked comfortably through Charles Monroe’s.

Mira, Eve decided, could wait. “Peabody.”

“Dallas. Wow, the place looks amazing.”

“Yeah.” Eve shifted her gaze and pinned Charles with angry eyes. “Monroe.”

“Fabulous home you’ve got, Lieutenant.”

“I don’t recall your name on the guest list.”

Peabody colored, stiffened. “The invitation said I was free to bring a date.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, keeping her eyes on Charles’s. “A date?”

“Yes.” He lowered his voice as a flicker of hurt clouded his eyes. “Delia is aware of my profession.”

“Are you giving her the cop’s standard discount?”

“Dallas.” Horrified, Peabody stepped forward.

“It’s all right.” Charles tugged her back. “I’m on my own time, Dallas, and hoping to spend a pleasant evening with an attractive woman whose company I enjoy. If you’d rather I leave, it’s your house, your call.”

“She’s a big girl.”

“Yes, she is,” Peabody murmured. “Just a second, Charles,” she added, then gripped Eve’s arm and tugged her aside.

“Hey!”

“No, you hey.” Fury bubbled into her voice as Peabody boxed Eve into a corner. “I don’t have to clear my personal
time or relationships with you, and you have no right to embarrass me.”

“Wait a minute—”

“I’m not done.” Later, Peabody would recall the look of speechless shock on Eve’s face, but at the moment she was too revved to notice or react to it. “What I do off duty has nothing to do with the job. If I want to take on table dancing in my personal time, it’s my business. If I want to pay six LCs to fuck me blind on Sundays, it’s my business. And if I want to have a civilized date with an interesting, attractive man who for some reason wants to have one with me, it’s my business.”

“I was only—”

“I’m not done,” Peabody said between clenched teeth. “On the job, you’re in charge. But that’s where it ends. If you don’t want me here with Charles, then we’ll leave.”

As Peabody turned on her heel, Eve snagged her wrist. “I don’t want you to leave.” Her voice was quiet, controlled, and stiff as a petrified board. “I apologize for stepping into your personal life. I hope it doesn’t spoil your evening. Excuse me.”

Hurt, unbelievably hurt, she walked away. Her stomach was still jittering with it when she found Mira. “I don’t want to take you away from the party, but I’d like a few minutes. In private.”

“Of course.” Concerned by the dark eyes and pale cheeks, Mira reached out. “What is it, Eve?”

“In private,” she repeated, and ordered herself to bury her feelings as she led the way out. “We can talk in the library.”

“Oh.” The minute she stepped inside, Mira clasped her hands in sheer pleasure. “What a marvelous room. Oh, what absolute treasures. Not enough people appreciate the feel and the smell of a real book in their hands any longer. The delight of curling into a chair with the warmth of one instead of the cool efficiency of a disc.”

“Roarke’s into books,” Eve said simply and shut the door.
“The testing on Rudy. I question some of your findings.”

“Yes, I thought you might.” Mira wandered through, admiring, then settled onto a soft leather chair, smoothing the skirt of her rose-pink cocktail suit. “He’s not your killer, Eve, nor is he the monster you want him to be.”

“It has nothing to do with what I want.”

“His relationship with his sister disturbs you on a deep and personal level. She isn’t like you, though; she isn’t a child, she isn’t defenseless, and while I do believe he has an unhealthy measure of control over her, she isn’t being forced.”

“He uses her.”

“Yes, and she him. It’s mutual. I agree that he is obsessive when it pertains to her. He is sexually immature. The very thing that eliminates him from your lists, Eve, is the fact that I strongly believe he is impotent with anyone but his sister.”

“He was being blackmailed and the blackmailer is dead. A client was hitting on his sister; that client is dead.”

“Yes, and I admit that with that evidence I was prepared to find him capable of those murders. He isn’t. He has some potential for physical violence. When roused, when threatened. But it’s a flash, it’s immediate. It isn’t in his makeup to plan, to orchestrate, to complete the kind of killings you’re dealing with.”

“Then we just turn him loose?” Eve walked away. “Let him go?”

“Incest is against the law, but it has to be proven to be coerced. This isn’t the case. I understand your need to punish him, and to, in your mind, release his sister from his hold.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Oh, I know that, Eve.” Because it hurt her heart to watch, she reached up to take Eve’s hand and stop the restless pacing. “Don’t keep punishing yourself.”

“I focused on him because of this. I know I did.” Suddenly weary, she sank down beside Mira. “And because I did, I might have missed something, some detail, that would have led to the killer.”

“You followed very logical, very clear-cut steps. He had to be eliminated from the list.”

“But I took too long to do it. And every time my gut told me I was looking at the wrong man, I ignored it. Because I kept seeing myself. I’d look at her and I’d think, way back in my mind, I’d think,
That could be me. If I hadn’t killed the son of a bitch, that could be me.
”

She lowered her head into her hands, then dragged them back through her hair. “Christ, I’m messing up. All over the damn place.”

“How?”

“There’s no point in getting into this.”

Mira merely stroked Eve’s hair. “How?”

“I can’t even seem to handle a perfectly ordinary holiday. Just the thought of trying to figure out what to do, what to buy, how to act makes my stomach ache.”

“Oh, Eve.” Laughing lightly, Mira shook her head. “Christmas drives nearly everyone half crazy with just those problems. It’s absolutely normal.”

“Not for me, it isn’t. I never had to worry about it before. I didn’t have so many people in my life.”

“Now you do.” Mira smiled, indulged herself by stroking Eve’s hair again. “Who do you want to get rid of?”

“I think I just managed to kick Peabody out.” Disgusted, Eve shot to her feet again. “She comes in with an LC. Oh, he’s basically okay, but he’s a goddamn whore, a great looking, slick, amusing one.”

“It disturbs you,” Mira suggested, “that you like him on one level and despise him for what he does for a living.”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about Peabody. He says he wants a real relationship, and she’s got stars in her eyes over him and she’s majorly pissed at me because I said something about it.”

“Life’s messy, Eve, and I’m afraid you’ve gone and carved yourself out a life, with all the conflicts and problems and hurt
feelings that entails. If she’s angry with you, it’s because there’s no one she admires or respects more.”

“Oh, Christ.”

“Being loved is a heavy responsibility. You’ll mend your fences with her, because she matters to you.”

“I’m getting damn crowded with people who matter.”

The house screen across the room blinked on. Summerset’s pinched face filled it. “Lieutenant, your guests are inquiring about you.”

“Fuck off.” She smiled thinly as Mira swallowed a laugh. “At least that’s one person I don’t have to worry about mattering. But I shouldn’t have busted up your evening.”

“You haven’t. I enjoy talking with you.”

“Well . . .” Eve started to stick her hands in her pockets, remembered she didn’t have any, and sighed. “Would you mind hanging out here for a minute? There’s something I want to get from my office.”

“All right. May I look through the books?”

“Sure, help yourself.” Not wanting to take the time to go out and down the stairs, Eve slipped into the elevator. She was back in less than three minutes, but Mira was already cozied into a chair with a book.

“Jane Eyre.”
She sighed as she set it aside. “I haven’t read it since I was a girl. It’s so wrenchingly romantic.”

“You can borrow it if you want. Roarke wouldn’t mind.”

“I have my own copy. I just haven’t taken the time. But thank you.”

“I wanted to give you this. It’s a couple of days early, but . . . I might not see you.” Feeling ridiculously awkward, she held out the elegantly wrapped box.

“Oh, how sweet of you.” With obvious delight, Mira clasped the box in her hands. “May I open it now?”

“Sure, that’s the deal, right?” She shifted her feet, then rolled her eyes as Mira delicately untied the fussy bow and painstakingly unfolded the corners on the paper.

“Drives my family crazy, too,” she said with a laugh. “I
just can’t bear to rip in; then I save the paper and ribbon like a pack rat. I have a closet full of it which I constantly forget to reuse. But . . .” She trailed off as she opened the lid and found the bottle of scent inside. “Why, it’s lovely, Eve. It has my name etched on it.”

“It’s this personalized sort of fragrance. You give the guy physical and personality traits, then he creates an individual fragrance.”

“Charlotte,” Mira murmured. “I wasn’t sure you knew my first name.”

“I guess I heard it somewhere.”

Mira blinked at sentimental tears. “It’s wonderfully thoughtful.” She set the bottle down and turned to draw Eve into a hug. “Thank you.”

Swamped with warmth, and embarrassment, Eve let herself be held. “I’m glad you like it. I’m pretty new at this kind of thing.”

“You did very well.” She drew back, but caught Eve’s face in her hands. “I’m so fond of you. Now I need the powder room because another of my Christmas traditions is to weep a little over my gifts. I know where it is,” she added, patting Eve’s cheeks lightly. “You go dance with your husband and drink a little too much champagne. The world outside will still be there tomorrow.”

“I need to stop him.”

“And you will. But tonight, you need your life. Go find Roarke and take it.”

Eve did what the doctor ordered. It wasn’t such a bad deal, she decided, getting a little light-headed, swaying in Roarke’s arms to some sort of dreamy music in a room filled with color and scent and light.

“I can live with it,” she murmured.

“Hmm?”

She smiled as his lips skimmed her ear. “I can live with it,” she repeated, drawing back enough to look at his face. “All the Roarke stuff.”

“Well.” His hands stroked up her back, then down again. “That’s good to know.”

“You got a whole bunch of stuff, Roarke.”

“I do, indeed, have a whole bunch of stuff.” And a wife, he thought with an amused glint in his eyes, who was heading toward drunk.

“Sometimes it’s spooky. But not now. Now it’s pretty nice.” Sighing, she rubbed her cheek against his. “What kind of music is this?”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s sexy.”

“Twentieth century, primarily the nineteen forties. It was
called Big Band. That’s a hologram of Tommy Dorsey’s band doing this little number. ‘Moonlight Serenade.”’

“That’s a million years ago.”

“Almost.”

“How do you know all that stuff anyway?”

“Maybe I was born out of my time.”

She sighed in his arms as the music swelled. “No, you hit your time just right.” She tilted her head on his shoulder so she could watch the room. “Everybody looks happy. Feeney’s dancing with his wife. Mavis is sitting on Leonardo’s lap in the corner over there with Mira and her husband. They’re all laughing. McNab’s hitting on every woman in the room, and giving Peabody the hairy eyeball while he sucks down your Scotch.”

Idly, Roarke glanced over, lifted a brow. “Trina’s got him now. Jesus, she’ll eat that boy alive.”

“He doesn’t look worried about it.” She leaned back again. “It’s a nice party.”

The music changed, a quick beat bouncing out. Eve’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, look at Dickhead. What’s he doing?”

Grinning, Roarke slipped a hand around Eve’s waist, turning so they were hip to hip. “I believe it’s called jitterbug.”

Stunned, she watched the lab chief tug and pull Nadine Furst around the room, spinning her out, whipping her back. “Yeah, I can see why. I can never get him to move that fast in the lab. Whoa!” Her eyes widened as Dickie shoveled Nadine through his legs. Nadine let out a burst of laughter as her feet hit the floor again, and the crowd roared with approval.

Eve found herself grinning, leaning companionably against Roarke. “Looks like fun.”

“Want to try it?”

“Oh no.” But she laughed and began to tap her foot. “Watching’s just fine.”

“Is that mag or what?” Mavis bounced over, pulling
Leonardo after her. “Who’da thought Nadine could move like that? Frigid party, Roarke. It’s iced.”

“Thanks. You’re looking festive, Mavis.”

“Yeah. We call it my gay apparel.” She laughed and did a quick twirl to show off the multicolored panels that fluttered from breast to ankle. The movement parted them, revealing flashes of skin that had been dusted with gold and matched her hair, which fountained out from a wild topknot.

“Leonardo thought yours should be more refined,” she told Eve.

“No one shows off my designs as well as you and Mavis.” Towering over them, Leonardo smiled his gorgeous smile. “Merry Christmas, Dallas.” He bent down to kiss her cheek. “We have something for you, both of you. Just a token.”

He took a package from behind his back and put it in Eve’s hands. “Mavis and I are having our first Christmas together, thanks in a large part to you.” His gold eyes misted.

Because she couldn’t think of what to say, Eve set the package on one of the banquet tables and began to unwrap it.

Inside was a box of carved and polished wood, its brass hinges gleaming. “It’s beautiful.”

“Open it up,” Mavis prompted, all but bouncing. “Tell them what it means, Leonardo.”

“The wood’s for friendship, the metal for love.” He waited until Eve opened the lid to reveal the two silk-lined compartments within. “One part is for your memories, the other for your wishes.”

“He thought of it.” Mavis squeezed Leonardo’s big hand. “Isn’t he mag?”

“Yeah.” Eve managed to nod. “It’s great, really great.”

Understanding his wife, Roarke touched a hand to her shoulder, then stepped forward to extend the other to Leonardo. “It’s a lovely gift. A perfect one. Thank you.” And with a smile he kissed Mavis. “Both of you.”

“Now you can make a wish together on Christmas Eve.”
Delighted, Mavis threw her arms around Eve, held hard, then swung back to Leonardo. “Let’s dance.”

“I’m going to get sloppy,” Eve murmured when her friends moved off.

“It’s the season for it.” He lifted her chin, smiled into her swimming eyes. “I love watching you feel.”

Riding the emotion, she cupped a hand around the back of his neck and drew his mouth down to hers. A long, warm kiss that soothed rather than excited.

She was smiling when she drew back. “That’s the first memory for our box.”

“Lieutenant.”

Eve turned, clearing her throat as she looked at Whitney. Embarrassment fluttered as she thought of him catching her with her eyes wet and her mouth still soft from Roarke’s. “Sir.”

“I’m sorry to disrupt things.” He offered Roarke an apologetic glance. “I’ve just received word that Piper Hoffman has been attacked.”

The cop snapped back into place. “Do you have her location?”

“She’s on her way to Hayes Memorial Hospital. Her condition is unknown at this time. Is there a private place I can fill you and your team in on known details?”

“My office.”

“I’ll take the commander down,” Roarke said. “Get your people.”

“She was attacked in the living quarters above Personally Yours,” Whitney began. Out of habit, he’d placed himself behind the desk, but he didn’t sit. “At this time, it’s believed she was alone. The responding uniform reports that it appears her brother walked in during the assault. The assailant fled.”

“Was the witness able to ID?” Eve demanded.

“Not as yet. He’s at the hospital with his sister. The scene
has been secured. I’ve ordered the uniforms to leave it undisturbed and await your arrival.”

“I’ll take Feeney. We’ll go to the hospital first.” She caught Peabody’s quick jolt of shock, but kept her eyes on Whitney. “I don’t want to break Peabody’s and McNab’s cover at this time. I prefer for them to remain here, in contact, until I move on the scene.”

“It’s your call,” Whitney said simply, and it was one he agreed with.

“We’ve got witnesses this time, and he’s on the run. He’s scared. He can’t be sure he wasn’t made. And, if Piper stays alive, this makes his third miss.” She turned to her team. “I’ve got to change out of this thing. Feeney, I’ll be downstairs in five minutes. Peabody, contact the hospital and see what you can find out on the victim’s status. McNab, I’ll have a uniform bring you the security discs. I want them run before we get back.”

“Dallas,” Whitney said as she strode to the elevator, “let’s cage this bastard in.”

“One of these days,” Feeney said as they walked down the hospital corridor, “I’m going to leave one of your parties with my wife.”

“Cheer up, Feeney. We might’ve just caught the break that will put this away and give you a nice cozy Christmas.”

“Yeah, there’s that.” Someone moaned behind an opened door as they passed, and had Feeney hunching his shoulders. “Too many broken bodies around here to suit me. The way the roads are tonight, they’ve probably been hauling in traffic accidents all night.”

“Cheerful thought. There’s Rudy. I’ll take him. See if you can find her attending and an update.”

One look at the man slumped in a chair with his head in his hands and Feeney couldn’t have been happier to be somewhere else. “He’s all yours, kid.”

They parted ways, with Eve going straight ahead until she stopped in front of Rudy.

He lowered his hands slowly, staring at her boots first, then gradually lifting a face dominated by devastated eyes. “He raped her. He raped her and he hurt her. He tied her up. I heard her crying. I heard her begging and crying.”

Eve sat beside him. “Who was he?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see. I think—he must have heard me come in. He must have heard me. I ran into the bedroom, and I saw her. Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

“Stop.” Snapping out the order, she took his wrists to drag his hands away from his face again. “That won’t help her. You came in and heard her. Where had you been?”

“Shopping. Christmas shopping.” A single tear slid out of his eye and down his cheek. “She’d seen a sculpture, a fairy at a pond. She left hints around the apartment. A little sketch of it, the address of the gallery. Everything’s been so confused that I hadn’t had time to buy it until tonight. I never should have left her alone.”

She could check on the gallery, the timing, and be certain, Eve thought. Be certain the man who’d put Piper in the hospital wasn’t sitting beside her. She knew, she knew better than to let anyone in. Why would she have let her attacker in?

“Was the door secured when you got there?”

“Yes. I coded in. Then I heard her crying, calling out. I ran in.” His breath hitched. He closed his eyes, fisted his hands. “I saw her on the bed. She was naked, her hands and feet tied. I think—I’m not sure—but I think I saw something out of the corner of my eye. A movement. Or maybe I just sensed it. Then someone shoved me, and I fell. My head.”

Absently he lifted a hand to the side of his head. “I hit it on something, the footboard? I don’t know. I might have been out for a few seconds. It couldn’t have been long because I heard him running away. I didn’t go after him. I should have, but she was lying there, and I couldn’t think of anything but
her. She wasn’t crying anymore. I thought . . . I thought she was dead.”

“You called for MTs, an ambulance?”

“I untied her first, covered her. I had to. I couldn’t stand . . . Then I called. I couldn’t wake her up. I couldn’t. She never woke up. And now they won’t let me see her.”

This time when he covered his face with his hands, Eve let him weep. Spotting Feeney, she rose and met him halfway.

“She’s in a coma,” he began. “Doctors figure it for extreme shock rather than physical. She was raped, sodomized. Wrists and ankles abraded. A couple of bruises. They did a tox. She was tranq’d—same over-the-counter shit. The tattoo’s on her right thigh.”

“They got a prognosis?”

“They say they can’t do anything. Lots of medical mumbo, but basically, the girl’s closed herself up. She’ll come back when and if she wants to.”

“Okay, we’re useless here. Let’s put a uniform on her door, and another on the brother.”

“You still looking at him, Dallas?”

She glanced back, watching him sob. The stir of pity surprised her. “No, but we’ll put one on him anyway.”

She took out her communicator, and sent out the orders as they headed toward the elevator.

“Guy’s pretty busted up,” Feeney commented. “Wonder if he’s crying over his sister, or his lover.”

“Yeah, it’s a puzzle all right.” She stepped into the elevator and requested the street level. “So, how did our man know she’d be alone tonight? He wouldn’t have tried her if he’d thought Rudy was with her. Not his style. He knew she was alone.”

“Someone she knew. Could’ve been watching the place. Could’ve called and checked.”

“Yeah, he knew her. Knows them both. And I don’t think she was one of his true loves.” She stepped out into the lobby, turned toward the doors. “She breaks pattern there. Piper isn’t
on any of the match lists. He went for her to keep us focused on Rudy. Here’s how it plays for me.”

She paused while they climbed into the car, Eve taking the wheel. “He knows we’ve had Rudy into Interview, that I like him for the murders. He’s got a couple to make up anyway, since he missed with Cissy and the ballet dancer. He’s smart enough to know if he gets Piper, we’re going to run Rudy again. It just follows. This wasn’t for love, it was for insurance.”

Feeney leaned back, reaching into his pocket for his nut bag before remembering his wife hadn’t let him carry it to the party. He huffed once. “He knows her, she knows him. Maybe that’s how he got in.”

“She wouldn’t have opened the door to a stranger, and she sure as hell wouldn’t have opened it up to some guy in a Santa suit. We need McNab to run those discs.”

“You know what I think, Dallas. I don’t think we’re going to find any discs.”

Feeney was on the mark. The uniform on the scene reported that the security cameras had been shut off from the main control at nine fifty.

“No sign of forced entry,” Eve said after an examination of the locks and palm plate. “She goes to the door, looks out, and sees a familiar face. Opens right up. We won’t find any internal security discs either.”

She stepped into the apartment. A white tree festooned with crystal ropes and balls stood in front of the windows that faced Fifth. There were stacks of prettily wrapped gifts under it and a single white dove where traditionalists would have put a star or an angel.