Seduction In Death

"Isn't she the ult?" Mavis asked Trina.

"Yeah, and she'd better get her ultimate butt in the chair."

Eve turned, and the eyes that had been flat and cool showed hints of fear. "This is just, you know, practice. And it's all temporary. You don't do anything permanent to me."

"Right. Strip off the shirt. You need bigger tits."

"Oh God."

While Eve was getting a temporary breast enhancement, Peabody was winding down with a bowl of frozen non-dairy dessert some marketing whiz had named Iced Delight. Drenched in chocolate-substitute syrup, it wasn't half bad. Or so Peabody decided as she scraped the bottom of the bowl.

She washed the bowl so that it wouldn't be sitting there in the morning to remind her she had absolutely no willpower. When she heard the knock on her door she was about to turn off the entertainment screen and head to bed.

If it was one of her neighbors again, with a complaint about noise from another apartment, she was telling them to call a cop. She was off duty, damn it, and needed the six hours' sleep she had coming.

A peek in the security screen made her gasp in surprise. She unlocked the door, pulled it open, and stared at McNab. His lip was swollen, his right eye boasted an impressive shiner. And he was wet.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I had an incident," he snapped. "I want to come in."

"I tried to reach you. You've got your 'links on message only."

"I was busy. I was off duty. Goddamn it."

"Okay, okay." She stepped back before he could plow into her. "We're on at oh six hundred. We caught a break earlier tonight. We've got an op going tomorrow. Dallas – "

"I don't want to hear about it now, okay? I can hear about the damn op tomorrow."

"Suit yourself." A bit miffed, she shut the door. "Your boots are squeaking."

"What, I don't have ears? I can't hear them squeaking?"

"What crawled up your ass and nested?" She sniffed the air. "You reek. What've you been drinking?"

"Whatever I want. Would you get off my back?"

"Look, you're the one who came to my door bunged up, wet, and smelling like the floor of a bar. I was on my way to bed. I've got to get some sleep."

"Fine, go to bed. I don't know why I came here anyway." He stalked to the door, pulled it open. Slammed it shut again. "I went by Monroe's. We got into it."

"What do you mean you…" she stammered. "You had a fight with Charles? Are you crazy?"

"Maybe you don't think we've got anything going on, but you're wrong. That's it, you're wrong. And I see him pushing Dr. Blonde in your face, it pisses me off. Best thing could happen to you, in my opinion, but I didn't like the way he tossed you over."

"Tossed me over," she repeated, dumbfounded.

"You break up with somebody, you do it square. He's going to apologize."

"He's going to apologize?"

"What are you, an echo?"

She had to sit. "Charles blackened your eye and split your lip?"

"He got in a couple of shots." Not to mention the gut punch that had him heaving up the homemade brew in the gutter like a common brew head. "His face isn't so perfect tonight either."

"Why are you all wet?"

"Dishy Dimatto was with him. She dumped a bucket of water on us." He shoved his hands in his damp pockets and stomped around the room on his squeaky boots. "I'd've taken him if she hadn't broken it up. He shouldn't have treated you that way."

Peabody opened her mouth to explain she hadn't been mistreated, then wisely closed it again. Her mother hadn't raised a foolish daughter. "It doesn't matter." She cast her eyes down in a sorrowful droop to hide the unholy gleam in them.

McNab and Charles, fighting over her. It was too mag for words.

"Hell it doesn't. If it helps any, I think he was really sorry."

"He's a nice guy, McNab. Not the kind that hurts anyone on purpose."

"Doesn't change the sting." He kneeled down in front of her. "Look, I want us to get back together."

"We got together pretty good last night."

"I don't mean just in the sheets. I want us to pick up the way we were going. But different."

Wary now, she eased back. "Different how?"

"Exclusive this time. And we can, you know, go out to some fancy places. He's not the only one who can get slicked up and take you to… wherever. I don't want to go out with anyone else, and I don't want you going out with anyone else either."

Her throat tickled, but she was afraid to swallow. "So, what, you're asking me to go steady?"

His face went hot, his teeth bared, and he shoved to his feet. "Never mind. Put it down to too much to drink." He swung toward the door again, nearly got there.

"Yes." She got up. She wished her knees weren't knocking, but she got up.

He turned back, slowly. "Yes what?"

"I could give it a try. See where it goes."

He took a step back. "Exclusive?"

"Yeah."

And another. "Like a couple."

"Okay."

When she smiled, he leaned in and kissed her. "Oh, shit!" then jolted back when pain exploded in his lip. He blotted at it with the back of his hand, saw fresh blood. "Got anything for this?"

"Sure." She wanted to pet and cuddle him like a puppy. "Let me get the first-aid kit."

When she came back in with it, the bulletin a

The nude body of a man floating in the East River was discovered tonight by dock workers. Though police officials have not released cause of death, the victim has been identified as Dr. Theodore McNamara.

"Holy hell." Peabody dropped the kit with a clatter and raced to her 'link.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The body had been transported to the morgue and the crime scene cordoned off by the time Eve arrived. Warehouses streamed in a messy ribbon of brick and concrete along the choppy slice between access road and river.

And all had the washed-out, false glare from the police lights.

The media jammed around the barricades and sensors like Saturday night hopefuls vying to gain admission to an exclusive club. And there was just as much chatter from them in the form of shouted questions, demands, and pleas.

Uniformed officers stood in as bouncers. Most were smart enough to ignore the pleas, promises, and bribes for information. But, Eve knew, there would be one who'd weaken and spring the first leak in the data dam.

Accepting it as the natural relationship between cops and media, she hooked her badge on her jacket and started muscling her way through.

"Dallas, hey, Dallas!" Nadine Furst nipped her elbow. "What's the deal? Why were you called in? What's your co

"I'm a cop. He's dead."

"Come on, Dallas." Even in the harsh light, Nadine managed to look vivid and camera-ready. "They don't trot you out for every murder in the city."

She flashed an angry look at Nadine. "Nobody trots me out. Now step back, Nadine, you're in my way."

"All right, okay. But the word is it looks like a robbery/murder. Is that your take?"

"I don't know anything yet. Now friend or not, you move or I bust you for obstruction."

Nadine shifted aside. "Something's up," she whispered to her camera operator. "Something big. Pay attention. I'm going to call my contact at the morgue, see what I can wheedle out. Watch Dallas," she added. "If she's here, she's the center."

Eve pushed her way through reporters and gawkers. She caught a whiff of the river now, a sour smear on the air. The crime scene team was at work, the fluorescent yellow initials on the backs of their jackets searing through the hard white lights. The beam of the powerful portables spilled out onto the pitch-black surface of the river so that it gleamed like oil.