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"Interesting. This was her last performance. Retired, returned to place of birth. Omaha, Nebraska. Married the following year. Looks squeaky clean. Attractive," she added when she ordered the computer to show her ID picture from twenty-four years before. "Young, got a fresh sort of look. Right up Draco's alley."

"You think she might be Anja?"

"Maybe. Either way, I can't see Draco passing her up. That adds another layer to Michael Proctor. He didn't mention his mother knew Draco."

"He might not have been aware of it."

"Unlikely. Let's take a look at the flags. Hmm, Draco's got a few sealeds of his own."

"Money, prominence, co

"You ought to know." She said it with a smirk, then jerked up in her chair. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. What's this? Carly Landsdowne's got a sealed."

"More secrets? More silence?"

"Not this time. I know this code. It's an old one. It was in use when I went into the system. A lot of the kids in state homes wanted that code more than they wanted to eat their next meal. It's the code for adoption. Sealed," she added. "With the birth mother's data inside. Look at the date."

"Eight months after Stiles's assault on Draco. It won't be a coincidence."

"This plays for me. Draco got Anja Carvell pregnant. She tells him, he dumps her. Dumps her hard. She falls apart, tries self-termination, but Stiles gets to her before she's finished. She has a change of heart and decides to complete the pregnancy. Gives the kid away, and pays a hefty fee for a seal."

"It wouldn't have been easy."

Eve's eyes went flat. "It's plenty easy for some. Kids are tossed aside every day."

To comfort her, he put his hands on her shoulders, rubbed. "By Stiles's account, she was in love with the baby's father and nearly destroyed by him. Yet she didn't terminate the pregnancy. She gave the child up, which is different, Eve, than giving the child away. She paid for the seal to protect the child."

"It protects her, too."

"Yes, but there are other ways. She could have sold the baby on the black market. No questions asked. She chose legal cha

"Stiles knew. She'd have spilled it. We're going to have to have another chat. Now, let's see. Which judge should I wake up for the warrant and authorization to crack the seal?" She looked up at Roarke. "Any suggestions?"

"Lieutenant, I'm sure you know best."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Before she roused a judge out of bed and risked irritating him, she tried to tag Peabody through her communicator.

"Off duty?" Sheer shock glazed Eve's eyes at the blinking red light on her pocket unit. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Why, the nerve!" Roarke clucked his tongue. "I bet she's got some insane idea that she's entitled to a life."

"It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault," Eve chanted under her breath while she sent the transmission to Peabody's palm 'link.

After six beeps, Eve was up and pacing. "If she doesn't answer, I'm going to – " Abruptly, Eve's desk 'link exploded with noise. Her angry yelp had the cat racing back into the kitchen.

"Peabody! For God's sake, where are you?"

"Sir? Sir, is that you? I can't really hear over the music."

The audio might have been chaos, but the video shimmered clear and gave Eve a close-up view of her aide, complete with fussy hair, lip dye, and slumberous eyes.

I knew it, was all Eve could think. I just knew it.

"You've been drinking."

"I have?" The vague eyes blinked at the information, then Eve heard what could only be described as a giggle. "Well, maybe. A couple. I'm in a club, and they have drinking here. Really rocking screamers. Is it morning already?"

"Hey, Dallas!" McNab's face pushed against Peabody's so the two of them, equally plowed by the look of things, shared the screen. "This band is ice. Why don't you get your main squeeze and come on down."

"Peabody, where are you?"

"I'm in New York City. I live here."

Drunk, Eve thought in frustration. Drunk as a Station Caspian colonist. "Never mind. Take this outside before I go deaf."

"What? I can't hear you!"

Ignoring Roarke's amused chuckle, Eve leaned into her 'link. "Officer Peabody, go outside, keep the transmission open. I need to talk to you."

"You're outside? Well, hell, come on in."

Eve sucked in a breath. "Go. Out. Side."

"Oh, okay, sure thing."





There was a great deal of fumbling, more giggling, bumpy views of a crowd of what Eve decided were maniacs leaping and spi

"You have to give him points for imagination," Roarke pointed out.

"I hate you for this." Patience straining, Eve held the transmission while Peabody and McNab stumbled out of the club. The noise level dropped, but not by much. Apparently McNab's choice of club was in the core of Broadway's never-ending party district.

"Dallas? Dallas? Where are you?"

"Your 'link, Peabody. I'm on your 'link."

"Oh." She lifted it again, peered at the screen. "What are you doing in there?"

"Have you got any Sober-Up in your bag?"

"Betcha. You gotta be prepared, right?"

"Take some. Now."

"Aw." Peabody's cheerfully colored lips moved into a pout. "I don't wa

He couldn't resist and moved into view. "Hello, Peabody. You're looking particularly delicious tonight."

"Golly, you're pretty. I could just look at you and look at you and – "

"Sober-Up, Peabody. Now. That's an order."

"Damn." Peabody rummaged through her bag, came up with the little tin. "If I gotta, you gotta," she said, plucking out two pills before shoving the tin at McNab.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Oh."

"Peabody, I need all current data on Anja Carvell, all search and scan results."

" 'Kay."

"Shoot them to my car unit. Then I want you to meet me, in uniform, at Ke

"Yeah, sort of… Could you repeat the question?"

"It's not a question. It's an order," Eve corrected and repeated it. "Got that now?"

"Yeah. Um, yes, sir."

"And leave your trained monkey at home."

"Sir?"

"McNab," Eve snapped, and cut transmission.

"Party pooper," Roarke murmured.

"Don't give me any lip." She rose, pulled her shoulder harness out of the desk drawer, strapped it on. "Go do some financial adjustments and point by point analyses."

"Darling, you were listening."

"I'm not laughing," she told him, and was a

He only smiled, waiting until he heard her jog down the stairs.

She was going to ease her way around the seal instead of breaking through it, he thought. There was no reason he should have the same limitations.

He strolled down the corridor to a private room. His voice and palm prints were checked and verified. The locks disengaged.

"Lights on," he ordered. "Full."

The room streamed with light, blocked from the outside by the secured privacy screens on the bank of windows. He crossed the wide squares of tile while the door behind him closed, re-secured.

Only three people had entry to this room. Three people he trusted without reservation. Eve, Summerset, and himself.

The slick black control panel formed a wide U. The equipment, unregistered and illegal, hummed softly in sleep mode. The wide eye of CompuGuard couldn't restrict what it couldn't see.

He'd restructured most of his questionable holdings over the years. After Eve, he'd disposed of or legitimized the rest. But, he thought as he helped himself to a brandy, a man had to have some small reminders of the past that made him.