Rapture in Death

"I'm sorry."

"Stop." He tucked the card away and rose. "There are literally hundreds, perhaps thousands of employees in these companies. I can certainly get you a list, for whatever good that would do." Then he paused, reached down, and rubbed a thumb over the diamond she wore. "You should know I personally worked on and approved the design, initialed the schematics. The unit's been in development for more than a year, and I spot-checked every stage at one time or another through that period. My hands are all over it."

She'd been sure of that, afraid of that. "It could come to nothing. Dickhead claims my theory of subliminal coercion to self-termination is over the edge of unlikely into the impossible."

Roarke smiled a little. "How can one trust a man called Dickhead? Eve, you used the unit yourself."

"Yeah, which also put a big wrench in my pet theory. All I got out of it was an orgasm." She couldn't quite bring off a smile herself. "I want to be wrong, Roarke. I want to be wrong and close these cases as voluntary self-terminations. But if I'm not – "

"We'll deal with it. First thing tomorrow, I'll look into it myself." She started to shake her head, but he took her hand. "Eve, I know the drill; you don't. I know my people, at least the department heads in each stage. You and I have worked together before."

"I don't like it."

"That's a pity." He toyed with the diamond between her breasts again. "I believe I do."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Roarke sure knows how to dish a party." Mavis stuffed a deviled quail egg in her mouth and chattered over it. "Everybody, and I mean everybody's here. Did you see Roger Keene? He's like top hound at Be There Records. And Lilah Monroe? She's tearing them up with her new audience participation show on Broadway. Maybe Leonardo can charm her into using him for new costume design. And there's – "

"Take a breath, Mavis," Eve advised as her friend babbled and continually pushed canapes into her mouth. "Adjust the speed."

"I'm so nervous." With her hands momentarily free, Mavis pressed them to her stomach – bare but for an artistic rendering of a ripe, red orchid. "I can't level, you know? When I'm this hyped I've just gotta eat and talk. And eat and talk."

"And throw up if you don't slow down," Eve warned. She sca

The room glittered, and so did the people. Even the food seemed to be glossy and polished, almost too ornamental to eat, though you couldn't prove that by Mavis. Since the weather had cooperated, the roof was open, inviting in the fresh breeze and showers of starlight. One wall was filled with a view screen, and Mavis whirled and pranced over it, her music sizzling out into the room.

Roarke had been ca

"I'm never going to be able to pay you back for this."

"Come on, Mavis."

"No, I mean it." After sending Leonardo a beaming smile and an exaggerated air kiss, she turned back to Eve. "You and me, Dallas, we go back awhile. Hell, if you hadn't busted me, I'd probably still be picking pockets and ru

Eve chose an interesting-looking blot on a cracker for herself. "That's digging deep, Mavis."

"Maybe, but it doesn't change the facts. I did a lot to straighten myself out and change direction. I'm kind of proud of it."

Remaking ourselves, Eve thought. It could happen. It did happen. She glanced over to where Reea

"But what I'm talking about is this. I want to get it out – okay? – before I get up there and try to blow the diamonds off the ears of this group." Mavis cleared her throat and promptly forgot the little speech she'd prepared, "Hell with it. I know you, and I really love you. Like really love you, Dallas."

"Christ, Mavis, don't start getting me all weepy. Roarke's already drugged me."

Unashamed, Mavis swiped her hand under her nose. "You'd have done this for me – if you knew how." When Eve blinked and frowned, Mavis found her sentiment turning to amusement. "Shit, Dallas, you wouldn't have the first clue how to order up anything more complicated than soy dogs and veggie hash. Roarke's hands are all over this bash."

"My hands are all over it." Roarke's words echoed in Eve's mind and made her shudder. "Yeah, they are."

"You asked him to do it, and he did it for you."

Determined to let nothing shadow the evening, Eve shook off the dread. She shook her head. "He did it for you, Mavis."

Slowly, Mavis's lips curved and her eyes got misty again. "Yeah, I guess he did. You've got a fucking prince, Dallas. A fucking prince. I've got to go throw up now. Be right back."

"Sure." With a half laugh, Eve grabbed some fizzy water from a passing tray and headed for Roarke. "Excuse me, one minute," she said and tugged him away from a group of people. "You're a fucking prince," she told him.

"Why thank you. I think." He slid an arm around her waist, gently, put his other hand over hers that held the stem of her glass. He surprised her by moving her into a very smooth dance. "You have to use your imagination with Mavis's… style," he decided. "But this one could almost be considered romantic."

Eve lifted a brow and tuned in to Mavis's voice rising over clashing brass. "Yeah, it's a real old-fashioned, sentimental tune. I'm a lousy dancer."

"You wouldn't be if you didn't try to lead. I decided since you weren't going to sit down and rest that battered body of yours, you could lean on me awhile." He smiled down at her. "You're starting to limp again, just a bit. But you do look almost relaxed."

"The knee's a little stiff," Eve admitted. "But I am pretty relaxed. I guess it was listening to Mavis babble. She's throwing up now."

"Lovely."

"It's just nerves. Thanks." She went with impulse and gave him one of her rare public kisses.

"You're welcome. For?"

"For making sure we're not eating soy dogs and veggie hash."

"My pleasure." He drew her closer, keeping his arms easy. "Believe me, it's my pleasure. Well, Peabody wears basic black and a mild concussion well," he noted.

"What?" Jerking back, Eve followed his gaze and spotted her aide just coming through the wide double doors and snagging a flute off a tray. "She should be flat on her back," Eve muttered and pulled away from Roarke. "Excuse me while I go put her there."

She stalked across the room, eyes narrowing as Peabody tried out a toothy smile. "Some party, Lieutenant. Thanks for the invite."

"What the hell are you doing out of bed?"

"It's just a bump on the head, and all they were doing was poking at me. I wasn't going to let a little thing like an explosion keep me from doing a party at Roarke's."

"Are you on meds?"

"Just a couple of regulation pain blockers, and – " Her face fell when Eve snatched the champagne out of her hand. "I was just going to hold it. Really."

"Hold this," Eve suggested and shoved her water into Peabody's hand. "I ought to cart your butt right back to the health center."

"You didn't go," Peabody muttered, then lifted her chin. "And I'm off duty. On personal time. You can't order me back."

However much she sympathized and admired determination, Eve held firm. "No liquor," she snapped out. "No dancing."

"But – "

"I hauled you out of that building today, and I can haul you out of here. By the way, Peabody," Eve added. "You could lose a few pounds."

"So my mother's always telling me." Peabody huffed out a breath. "No liquor, no dancing. Now, if you've finished with the restrictions, I'm going to go talk to somebody who doesn't know me."

"Fine. Oh, Peabody?"

Peabody turned, scowling. "Yes, sir?"