Born In Death

“I don’t believe we’ll be invited to the spring gala in Madrid,” Roarke commented.

“Breaks my heart. You get a load of them? They’re like one of those Brit drawing room vids you like – the old-time ones? She thinks on her feet, I’ll give her that. She never figured we’d come knocking on the door, but she was ready for us when we did. He, on the other hand, needs direction, and a short leash. Got a temper, he does.”

“He killed them.”

“Bet your righteous ass he did. Question me, will you? Threaten me? Oh yeah, he did them all, then he came home and told Mommy all about it. Bet they’re pissed off to realize three murders haven’t covered up the accounts after all.”

“They’ll push it onto Randall Sloan.”

“They’ll try. I’ll let the Feds and Global worry about that end. Murder in the First, three counts. Conspiracy to commit, accessory before and after. I’m going to roll them up in a ball on this.”

“I might ask how?”

“He left his DNA on Byson’s fist. So science is going to get him. And my ca

“They could take off for England, for anywhere, tonight.”

“Could. Won’t. Flight makes them look suspicious. She’s got too much control for that. What they have to play is shocked and outraged. Their pal, their handily dead pal, deceived and abused them. He used their lauded foundation for his own gain. Shame and horror! She’s working that out right now, and she’s calling Cavendish – or one of the contacts on that in England – to give him the lowdown, have them start injunctions, restraining orders, anything they can pull out of the hat.

“Gotta get Cavendish in the box, too. I’ll sweat it out of him inside thirty minutes. He hasn’t got the spine. He’ll flip on them. He knows about the murders, and he’ll flip for a deal that keeps him out of a cage on accessory.”

Roarke stopped at a light, studied her. “Pretty damn wound up, aren’t you, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah, I am. It’s falling for me, piece by piece. I’m going to get started on that warrant on Chase, and one for Cavendish.” She dug out her ’link. “I can have them both in the box by morning.”

She interrupted both an APA and her commander’s Sunday night, put them on conference on the dash ’link and was still ru

“I need the mandatory DNA sample on Chase,” Eve argued.

Dressed in something slinky, APA Cher Reo scowled on-screen. “Allegedly questionable accounting practices, allegedly overseen by a man who wasnot the accountant of record, and who has left a suicide note confessing to the murders before hanging himself.”

“The ME isn’t going to rule self-termination.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“I fucking am sure.” Eve winced. “Excuse me, Commander.”

Whitney only sighed. “If the lieutenant ‘fucking’ is sure, Reo, we should push for this. If Chase is clean, the worst that happens is he’s insulted and complains to his embassy, has his lawyers screw with us.”

“I’ll find a judge who agrees with you,” Reo said. “The same’s going to go on Cavendish. It’s shaky, Dallas.”

“I’ll make it solid. I want them both in by eight-hundred tomorrow. Thank you, Commander. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.”

“How about me?” Reo demanded.

“You, too.”

“Nice work.” Roarke leaned over to kiss her. “I’d give you a warrant.”

“Bet you would. They’ll lawyer up the gonads, but it’s not going to help them. I’m going to nail them, Roarke. For Natalie, for Bick, and for that asshole Randall Sloan. And by the time I’ve finished, the Feds and Global will have to pick up the pieces to add time for tax fraud and money laundering and whatever the hell else they want to stick to them.”

She hooked an arm around his waist as they climbed the steps to the front door. “Really needed you on this one, ace.”

“Pay me.”

Her laugh turned to a sneer as she stepped into the house and saw Summerset. “Can’t you ever be somewhere that’s not here?”

He ignored her, spoke directly to Roarke. “The soother calmed Mavis enough that she’s sleeping. I’ve put her and Leonardo in the blue guest room on the third level. It’s quiet, and she needs to rest.” Now he aimed those dark eyes toward Eve. “She’s been much too active and upset today.”

“Yeah, blame me.”

“Whoever kidnapped Tandy Willowby is to blame,” Roarke said. “And we all want Mavis to get as much rest and care as she needs.”

“Of course.” Summerset cleared his throat. “I’m concerned.” He looked at Eve again with what might have been an apology in those same dark eyes. “I’m concerned.”

If a broomstick with legs could have affection for anyone, Eve knew Summerset had it for Mavis. “I can’t keep her down unless I tie her down. All I can do is find Tandy Willowby.”

“Lieutenant,” Summerset said as she started up the steps, “I can make you an energy booster, one that contains no chemicals as you dislike them.”

“You could make me a booster, and I’d consume it into my body?” She gave a snort. “Do I look like I’ve recently lost my mind?”

She kept going, and glanced back at Roarke. “I’m not taking any witch’s brew he concocts, so forget it.”

“I said nothing.”

“You were thinking it. I’m getting coffee, and tagging Peabody. If Mavis is down for the count tonight, I can go over there myself, relieve her and McNab. I have to update Baxter. He’ll want in on the interviews tomorrow.”

“Eve, Christ Jesus, you need sleep.”

“I thought you were saying nothing.”

“Bloody goddamn shagging hell.”

It was as far as he got when her ’link signaled. “I guess you’d better hold that Irish thought. Dallas.”

“Check it out,” Peabody sang, and turned her ’link so Eve saw the dark mouth of a safe.

“Hot diggity damn!”

“It’s the second we found. Nearly gave up, but my guy here is stubborn.” A very tired-eyed Peabody made kissy noises.

“Cut that out.”

“Aw, he earned it. First safe was in the library. False front, nothing any burglar with a working brain couldn’t have found and popped. Cleaned out. We were very sad, figuring whoever killed Sloan got to it first.”

“I bet that’s just what he did, too. Figures he cleaned up anything incriminating Sloan had tucked away.”

“But McNab said, ‘Screw that, She-Body’ – speaking to me. How you said the vic has some brains, so why wouldn’t he have another hole, and a deeper one. If not here, somewhere else, but we’re here, so we’ll keep right on looking and looking and – ”

“You’re babbling.”

“Sorry. My brain went to sleep an hour ago. The rest of me hasn’t figured it out yet. Anyway, we found this one in the kitchen. It’s built into the pantry – where, I might add, the guy had prime consumable goodies. We didn’t eat anything. It was hard and painful, but we resisted. And in this nice little safe – which took my Scottish stud thirty-five minutes to crack – we found cash. Two hundred and fifty large – some jewelry. And…a shitpot load of discs. They’re labeled, Dallas, and some of that shitpot is Bullock Foundation records.”

“Motherload. Bag it all, log it all, bring it all.”

Eve turned to Roarke with a toothy grin. “Got the bastards.” The grin faded when she saw the tall glass of murky green liquid in his hand. “Where’d you get that?”

“From the faeries.”

“I don’t want faerie juice.” She planted her feet, lifted her fists into a boxer’s stance. “And if you try to pour that into me, you’re going to bleed.”

“Oh, dear, I’m terrified. Threatened with bodily harm by a woman who can barely stand upright. Half for me,” he said as she snarled. “Half for you.”