Ceremony In Death

"It's Nadine," Peabody a

"Perfect." Eve cleared the screen, just in case, and turned to the 'link. "So, Nadine, what's the story?"

"You're the story, Dallas. Two dead people. It's dangerous to know you."

"You're still breathing."

"So far, so good. I thought you might be interested in some data that's come my way. We can do a trade."

"Show me yours, maybe I'll show you mine."

"Exclusive one on one, in your home, with you discussing the investigation of both knifings, for the noon broadcast."

Eve didn't bother to snort. "One on one reporting the status of my investigation, in my office, for the evening broadcast."

"The first body was found at your house. I want in."

"It was found outside on the sidewalk, and you're not getting in."

Nadine huffed out a breath. The pout was for her own benefit. She knew better than to think it would budge Eve. "I want the noon."

Eve checked her watch, calculated, considered. "I'll clear you into my office. Arrival time eleven forty-five. If I can make it, I'll be there. If not…"

"Damn it, we need setup time. Fifteen minutes isn't – "

"It's enough, Nadine, for someone as good as you are. Be sure your data makes this worth my while."

"Make sure you don't look like a rag picker," Nadine shot back. "Do something with your hair, for God's sake."

Rather than respond, Eve ended transmission. "What is this obsession people have with my hair and wardrobe?" She raked a bad-tempered hand through the hair in question.

"Mavis told me you're overdue for a style session. Leonardo's bummed about it."

"You hanging with Mavis?"

"I've gone down to catch her act a couple times." She blew her nose heartily. Over-the-counters were pure crap, she decided. "I like watching her."

"I haven't had time for a style session," Eve muttered. "I trimmed it myself a couple days ago."

"Yeah, I could tell." At Eve's narrow look, Peabody smiled blandly. "It looks just lovely, sir."

"Kiss ass." Eve switched her screen back on. "And if you're finished with your critique of my personal appearance, maybe you'd like to run a few of these names."

"I recognize some of them." Peabody bent over Eve's shoulder. "Louis Trivane: big shot celebrity lawyer. Gets the stars out of legal jams. Maria

"I know the names, Peabody. I want background, personal data, financial data, medical data, any arrests. I want to know the names of their spouses and kids and pets. I want to know when and how they co

"It'll take days." Peabody said it mournfully and reminded Eve painfully of Feeney. "Even shooting them into the IRCCA."

Eve said nothing. The International Resource Center on Criminal Activity was one of Feeney's prides and joys.

"If I could tag someone in the E-Division for help, we could cut the time in half. Maybe less." Peabody jerked a shoulder. "So, where do you want me to start?"

"We've got a hop on Wineburg, so dig deeper there, and on Lobar – Robert Mathias. Then start at the top and work down. I'll start at the bottom and work up. Look for withdrawals of large amounts at regular intervals. We damn well better have what we need when we meet in the middle."

She narrowed her eyes, thinking. The financial data on Selina's cult would be protected by the Privacy Act and its status as a registered religion. Still, there was a chance, a slim one, that she'd been cocky enough to make deposits in her personal account.

That was a simple matter to check on. For the other, she would have to decide if the data would hold solid if she was able to access it, and to access it, she needed Roarke.

She'd wait, she decided, a day or two. Once they ascertained how much money the membership list was suspected of feeding into Selina's pockets, she'd reassess.

It would be tough to sell the PA on religious contributions as extortion, but it might be a start.

"With Wineburg's name linked to Cross's cult, I can pull her into Interview. I think we'll make it, say, around eleven thirty."

"You've got the spot with Nadine at eleven forty-five."

"Yeah." Eve's smile spread. "That'll work."

"Oh."

"It's not my fault if some big-nosed reporter finds out I'm questioning Selina Cross, knows I'm primary on two recent homicides, then puts two and two together."

"And goes on air with it."

"Might shake up some of these fine, upstanding Satanists. Some people get real chatty when they're shook. Get me that data, and I can shake them harder."

"I bow to you."

"Save it until we see if it works. You use this unit. I can use one of Roarke's to make the first pass. Computer, copy disc, print out hard copy." She glanced up at the movement in the doorway, went very still. "Abort," she murmured and braced to take the next hit from Feeney.

"Peabody." He sent her a quiet look out of sleep-starved eyes. "I need a moment with your lieutenant."

"Sir?" Though she rose, Peabody waited for Eve's signal.

"Take a break, Peabody. Get yourself some coffee "

"Yes, sir." She headed out, feeling the needles of edgy tension prickling the air.

Eve didn't speak, simply stood. Her body was set, he noted, not to defend, but to absorb the next blow. Her eyes were carefully empty. But her hand that she braced on the desk shook. He stared at it a moment, amazed and ashamed that he'd caused that.

"Your, ah, Summerset said I should just come up." It was warm in the room, but he didn't remove his rumpled overcoat. Instead, he shoved his hands in the pockets. "I was off yesterday. Coming down on you was off. You were doing your job."

He saw her lip tremble, as if she would speak or make some sound. Then she firmed it again and said nothing. She looked, he realized, whipped.

"You broke her heart."

"Her father beat her, tortured her, raped her."

"You've been her father for ten years."

How the hell was he supposed to deal with that? And how could he possibly ignore it?

"The things I said – I shouldn't have." He pulled his hands free to scrub them hard over his face. "Jesus, Dallas. I'm sorry."

"Did you mean them?" It was out before she could stop it. She held up a hand, turned away, stared blindly out the window.

"I wanted to mean them. I was pissed." He crossed to her, his hands flapping uselessly. "I got no excuse," he began. He touched her, then snatched his fingers away from her shoulder when she cringed. "I got no excuse," he said again after a steadying breath. "And you got a right to step back from me. I jumped hard where I shouldn't have jumped."

"You don't trust me now." She skimmed the back of her hand over her cheek, ashamed the single tear had gotten past her guard.

"That's bullshit, Dallas. There's nobody I trust more. Look, goddamn it, it takes a laser hit to get me to apologize to my own wife. I'm telling you I'm sorry." Impatient now, he grabbed her arm, pulled her around. She froze. Her eyes were bright, tears sheening them but not, thank Christ, falling. "Don't go female on me, Dallas. I can't kick myself in the ass much harder than I already am."

He jerked up his chin, tapped a finger on it. "Go ahead. Free shot. We won't say anything about you punching out a superior officer."

"I don't want to hit you."

"Goddamn it, I outrank you. I said take your shot."

A ghost of a smile flitted around her mouth. He looked so fierce, she thought, those drooping camel eyes sparking with temper and frustration. "Maybe after you shave. That stubble'd skin my knuckles."