Witness in Death

And in his rebel's heart, the idea of a system like CompuGuard that monitored all computer business was an a

He stepped to the control, swirled his brandy. "System up," he ordered, and a rainbow of lights bloomed over black. "Now, let's have a look."

Eve left her vehicle in a second-level parking slot a half a block from Stiles's apartment. She'd walked half that distance when she spotted the figure trying to blend with the trees at the edge of the facing park. "Trueheart."

"Sir!" She heard the squeak of surprise in his voice, but he'd schooled his face into calm lines by the time he stepped out of the shadows. "Lieutenant."

"Report."

"Sir, I've had the subject's building under surveillance since his return at eighteen-twenty-three. My counterpart is surveilling the rear exit. We have maintained regular communications at intervals of thirty minutes."

When she made no comment, he cleared his throat. "Subject lowered privacy screens on all windows at eighteen-thirty-eight. They have remained engaged since that time."

"That's good, Trueheart, gives me a really clear picture. Now, tell me if he's in there."

"Lieutenant, subject has not left the surveilled premises."

"Fine." She watched a Rapid Cab swing toward the opposing curb. Peabody, looking considerably more official in full uniform with her hair straight under her cap, climbed out. "Stand by, Officer Trueheart."

"Yes, sir. Sir? I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for this assignment."

Eve looked up into his very young, very earnest face. "You want to thank me for duty that has you standing out in the dark, in the cold, for…" She glanced at her wrist unit. "For approximately five and a half hours?"

"It's a homicide investigation," he said with such reverence she nearly patted his cheek.

"Glad you're enjoying it." She headed across the street, where Peabody waited. "Look me in the eye," Eve demanded.

"I'm sober, sir."

"Stick out your tongue."

"Why?"

"Because you want to. Now, stop sulking." With this, Eve walked toward the building. "And no rolling your eyes at the back of my head."

Peabody's eyes stopped in mid-roll. "Am I to be informed of the reason I've been called back on duty?"

"You'll be informed. If all your surviving brain cells are in working order, you'll get the drift when I corner Stiles. I'll fill in the blanks when we're done."

She gave her badge and palm print to the night guard for verification, got clearance. Eve ran it through quickly on the way up.

"Wow, it's like one of those daytime serials. Not that I watch them," Peabody said quickly when Eve's eyes slid coolly in her direction. "One of my sisters is addicted though. She's totally hooked on The Heart of Desire. See, Desire's this small and charming seaside town, but under the surface, there's all this intrigue and – "

"Don't. Really."

She hurried out of the elevator to prevent any possibility of a rundown of anything called The Heart of Desire. She pressed the buzzer at Stiles's apartment, held her badge up toward the security peep.

"Maybe he's asleep," Peabody said a few moments later.

"He's got a house droid." Eve pressed the buzzer again and felt the ache of tension squeeze in her gut.

She'd assigned a rookie, a rookie for Christ's sake, to surveillance on a lead suspect in two homicides. Because she'd wanted to give the kid a break.

If Stiles had slipped past him, she had no one to blame but herself.

"We're going in." She reached for her master code.

"A warrant – "

"We don't need one. Subject is suspect, dual homicide, also potential victim. There's reason to believe subject has fled or is inside, unable to respond."

She bypassed the locks with her master. "Draw your weapon, Peabody," she ordered as she reached for her own. "Go in high, to the right. Ready?"

Peabody nodded. Her mouth might have been brightly painted, but it was firm.

At Eve's signal, they went through the door, sweeping opposite directions. Eve ordered lights, narrowed her eyes against the sudden flash of them, sca

"Police! Ke

She moved toward the bedroom as she spoke, ears cocked for any sound. "He's not here." Every instinct told her the place was empty, but she gestured Peabody to the far side of the room. "Check that area. Watch your back."

She booted open the door, led with her weapon.

She saw a neatly made bed, a tidy sitting area, and the dark pool of the suit Stiles had worn to the memorial service on the floor.

"The droid's here, Dallas," Peabody called out. "Deactivated. No sign of Stiles."

"He's gone rabbit. Goddamn it." Still, she kept her weapon out and ready as she moved into the bath, through the adjoining door.

One look at the dressing room had her bolstering it again. "I guess that lets Trueheart off the hook," she said to Peabody when her aide joined her. Eve fingered a pot of skin toner, then lifted a wig. "Stiles is probably damn good with this stuff. Call it in, Peabody. Suspect in flight."

"Sir." Trueheart stood stiff as a petrified redwood in the entry to Stiles's dressing room. His face was white but for the high color skimming along his cheekbones. "I take full responsibility for the failure of the assignment given to me. I will accept, without qualification, any reprimand you deem appropriate."

"First, stop talking like that droid Peabody's reactivating. Second, you're not responsible for the flight of this suspect. That's on me."

"Lieutenant, I appreciate you taking my inexperience into consideration in my failure to perform my duty and complete this assignment in a satisfactory ma

"Shut up, Trueheart." Jesus God, spare her from rookies. "Peabody! Come in here."

"I've nearly got the droid up and ru

"Peabody, tell Officer Trueheart here how I deal with cops who botch assignments or fail to complete same in what I deem a satisfactory ma

"Sir, you bust their balls, mercilessly. It can be very entertaining to watch. From a discreet and safe distance."

"Thank you, Peabody. You make me proud. Trueheart, am I busting your balls?"

His flush spread. "Ah, no, sir. Lieutenant."

"Then it follows that in my opinion, you didn't botch this assignment. If my opinion was otherwise, you'd be curled on the floor, clutching said balls and begging for mercy, which Officer Peabody has succinctly pointed out I do not have. Are we clear?"

He hesitated. "Yes, sir?"

"That's the right answer." She turned away from him, studied the dressing area. The forest of clothes in different styles and sizes; the long, wide counter covered with bottles and tubes and sprays. Cubbyholes loaded with hairpieces, wigs. Drawers ruthlessly organized with other tools of the trade.

"He can make himself into anyone. I should've factored that in. Tell me who you did see leaving the building between eighteen-thirty and when I arrived on-scene. We'll verify with the security discs from the exits, but be thorough."

He nodded, and his eyes unfocused with concentration. "A couple, man and woman, white and white, thirty-five to forty. They hailed a Rapid and headed east. A single woman, mixed race, late twenties. She left on foot, in a westerly direction. Two men, black and white, early thirties. They returned within thirty minutes, carrying what appeared to be a twelve-pack of beer and a large pizza. A single man, mixed race, late forties, some facial hair."