Immortal in Death

"Nice work if you can get it. She profits in excess of six million from Pandora's death."

"You could look at it that way. It's not as if she was hurting before, Dallas."

"Maybe not. But she sure as hell isn't hurting now. She'll put in an appearance at this postshowing party?"

"Sure. She and Leonardo are the stars. We'd better get out there if we want any food. Those fashion critics are like hyenas. They don't even leave bones."

"You've been around Jerry and the others for a while now," Eve began as they made their way back to the ballroom. "Anybody using?"

"Jesus, Dallas." Uncomfortable, Mavis shrugged. "I'm not a weasel."

"Mavis." Eve tugged her into an alcove resplendent with potted ferns. "Don't take that line with me. Is anyone using?"

"Hell, sure, there's some shit around. Poppers mostly, and a lot of Zero Appetite. It's a tough business, and not all the low-tier models can afford body sculpting. You've got a few illegals filtered through, but it's mostly over the counter."

"Jerry?"

"She's into health shit. That drink she guzzles. She smokes a little, but it's some special blend for soothing nerves. I've never seen her use anything dicey. But…"

"But?"

"Well, she's real territorial about her stuff, you know? Couple of days ago one of the other girls wasn't feeling well. Dragging from a late night. She started to cop a taste of Jerry's blue juice, and Jerry went nuts. Wanted to have her fired."

"Interesting. Wonder what's in it."

"Some vegetable extract. She claims it's made up for her metabolism. She made some noise about going on the market with it, endorsing."

"I need a sample. I haven't got enough for a search or confiscation warrant." She paused, considered, smiled. "But I think I know how to fix that. Let's go party."

"What are you going to do? Dallas." Doubling her pace, Mavis caught up with Eve's long strides. "I don't like that look in your eye. Don't cause any trouble. Please, come on. It's Leonardo's big night."

"I bet a little more media coverage will increase his sales."

She stepped into the ballroom where the crowd was gyrating on the dance floor or huddled around the tables of food. Spotting Jerry, Eve started over. Roarke caught her eye and crossed to her.

"Suddenly you look like a cop."

"Thanks."

"I'm not sure it was a compliment. Are you about to cause a scene?"

"I'm going to do my best. Want to keep your distance?"

"Not on your life." Intrigued, he took her hand and walked with her.

"Congratulations on a successful show," Eve began, edging aside a fawning critic to stand face to face with Jerry.

"Thank you." Jerry raised a glass of champagne. "But from what I've seen, you're not exactly a fashion expert." She sent Roarke a melting look. "Though you do appear to have excellent taste in men."

"Better than yours. Did you hear Justin Young was spotted at the Privacy Club tonight with a redhead? A redhead who bore a remarkable resemblance to Pandora."

"You lying bitch. He wouldn't – " Jerry caught herself, hissed gently through her teeth. "I told you, I don't care who he sees or what he does."

"Why would you? It's true though, isn't it, that after a certain number of sessions, body sculpting and facial enhancements don't completely fight reality. I suppose Justin wanted a taste of youth. Men are such pigs." Eve accepted a glass of champagne from a roving waiter and took a sip. "Not that you don't look wonderful. For your age. Those harsh stage lights just tend to make a woman look… mature."

"Fuck you." Jerry dashed the contents of her glass in Eve's face.

"Thought that would do it," Eve murmured as she blinked her stinging eyes. "That's assaulting an officer. You're under arrest."

"Take your hands off me." Incensed, Jerry shoved Eve back.

"Add resisting arrest. This must be my lucky night." In two quick moves, Eve had Jerry's arm twisted up and behind her back. "We'll just call a uniform to take you in. It shouldn't take you long to make bail. Now, behave so I can read you your rights on the way out." She shot Roarke a su

"Take your time, Lieutenant." He plucked up Eve's champagne and drank it himself. He gave her ten minutes, then wandered out of the ballroom.

She was standing at the hotel entrance, watching Jerry being loaded into a cruiser.

"What was that for?"

"I needed to buy some time and some probable cause. The suspect showed violent tendencies and a nervous ma

Cops, Roarke thought. "You pissed her off, Eve."

"That, too. She'll be out almost before they get her in. I've got to move."

"Where?" he demanded as they hurried around the ballroom to the backstage area.

"I need a sample of that stuff she likes to drink. The assault gives me clearance – if we bend things a little. I want it analyzed."

"You honestly think she's using illegals that blatantly?"

"I think people like her – like Pandora and Young and Redford – are incredibly arrogant. They've got money, looks, a certain amount of power and prestige. It makes them feel above the law." She sent him a look as she slipped into Pandora's dressing room. "You have the same tendencies."

"Thank you so much."

"Lucky for you, I came along to keep you on the straight and narrow. Watch the door, will you? If she's got a quick lawyer, I'm not going to have time to finish this."

"The straight and narrow, naturally," Roarke commented and stationed himself at the door as she searched the room.

"Christ, there's a fortune in cosmetic enhancements."

"It is her business, Lieutenant."

"Vanity's costing her several hundred K a year, I'd say, just on the topicals. Christ knows what she spends in ingestives and sculpting. If I could just find a little of that nice powder."

"You're looking for Immortality?" He let out a laugh. "She may be arrogant, but she doesn't look stupid."

"Maybe you're right." She opened the door of a friggie and smiled. "But she's got a container of that drink in here. A locked container." Pursing her lips, Eve looked toward Roarke. "I don't suppose you could…"

"Veer from the straight and narrow." He sighed, walked over, and studied the lock on the clear bottle. "Sophisticated. She's not taking any chances with it. The bottle's unbreakable from the look of it." His fingers played over the lock mechanism as he spoke. "Find me a nail file, a hair clip, something like that, will you?"

Eve pushed through the drawers. "Will this do?"

Roarke frowned at the tiny pair of manicure scissors. "Close enough." He jiggled the lock with the points, finessed, and stepped back. "There you are."

"You're awfully good at that."

"Just a small, insignificant talent, Lieutenant."

"Right." She dug in her bag, pulled out an evidence holder. She filled it with a couple of ounces. "That should be more than enough."

"Would you like me to relock it? It would only take a moment."

"Don't bother. We can swing by the lab on the way."

"On the way to?"

"To where I've got Peabody staked out. Justin Young's back door." She started out, flicking him a smile. "You know, Roarke, Jerry was right about one thing. I have pretty good taste in men."

"Darling, your taste is impeccable."