Seduction In Death

"Doing your gimp routine, Baxter?" Eve demanded.

"Roger that," he replied.

"Just remember, whatever you take in from the suckers goes in the Greenpeace fund."

As Feeney moved from man to man, she gauged the situation. As she'd predicted, the park was a popular place on a bright June afternoon. She watched a trio of teachers herding a school group like woolly sheep through the botanical gardens.

"Possible sighting." Peabody's voice came over the speakers. "Male, Caucasian, shoulder-length black hair, wearing tan trousers, light blue shirt. Carrying wicker picnic basket and black leather bag. Heading east on path, Endangered Species section."

"I see him." Eve studied the man on-screen. Now that was sauntering, she decided, watching the way he swung the basket gently at his side. And on his hand was a bicolored gold ring set with a ruby. "Go in on the ring," she told Feeney.

He blocked, magnified. And she saw the dragon's head carved into the stone.

"That's a positive ID. We got our man. Keep him in sight. Baxter, he'll be moving into your sector."

"Copy that. I'm on him."

"Peabody, you and Roarke maintain your distance. He's thirty minutes early," she said. "Needs time to get set up. Let's give it to him."

"Trueheart's got a visual," McNab said from his bank of screens. "Possible suspect moving south now. He's heading toward the arranged area. Looks like we've got him."

"Maintain distance," Eve warned. "Trueheart, angle a little to your left. Perfect. Let's watch the show."

He moved off the path onto the grassy area designated for picnics. Two other couples were there before him, as well as a trio of women, obviously taking a long lunch break from work. One lone male lay flat on his back, sunbathing. At Eve's order, he rolled lazily to his side, propped an e-book by his elbow and gave her a new angle on Kevin Morano.

Kevin paused, turning his head right and left as he studied the area. He opted for shade, turning for the largest tree where sun dappled softly on the grass. There he set down basket and bag.

"I want all available eyes on him," Eve a

"Lovely spot for a picnic." Roarke's voice was warm and cheerful. "Just let me spread this blanket, darling. I wouldn't want you to get grass stains on that lovely outfit."

"Blanket? I didn't clear that," Eve began.

"This sure is a surprise." Peabody gave what Eve recognized as an uneasy laugh. "I wasn't expecting a picnic."

"What's life without some surprise?"

She saw Roarke's face and the amused look on it as he spread a blanket on the ground.

Several feet away, Kevin mirrored the move.

"Such a pretty spot," Roarke continued, then lowered his voice as he sat. "We can enjoy the view without getting in anyone's way."

"I want no interference from any location. No one, repeat no one, moves in without my signal."

"Naturally. Champagne, sweetheart?"

"Peabody, you take one sip and you're busted to Traffic."

Even as she spoke, she watched Kevin. He opened the basket, removed three pink roses, and laid them on the blanket. He lifted wineglasses, held them to the sunlight to watch them sparkle. He opened a bottle of white. Poured a glass.

"Okay, okay, add the chaser, you son of a bitch."

But instead he raised the glass in a kind of self-toast and sipped.

Then he turned his wrist, checked the time. Taking out his pocket-link, he made a call.

"Up your audio, Peabody," Eve ordered. "Let's see if we can get an ear on him."

She heard birds, conversations, giggles, a child's war hoop. Before she could demand it, Feeney was filtering.

Kevin's voice came clearly. "Couldn't be better. Ten people in the immediate area, so that's a point for public venue. I suspect we'll have to pass some park police on the way out, bonus points there." He paused, laughed. A very young, very happy sound. "Yes, having her do that to me in broad daylight in a public park would certainly shoot me into the lead. I'll let you know.''

He tucked the 'link away, then sat a moment, breathing deep, admiring the view.

"Just a game," Eve murmured. "It's going to be a pleasure taking these bastards down."

He continued his preparations, moving a bit faster now, taking out a cold pack, opening it to a presentation of caviar. He set out toast points and the accompaniments. Foie gras, cold lobster, fresh berries.

"Gotta admit, the guy knows how to set out a spread."

"Shut up, McNab," Eve muttered.

He sampled a berry, then another. As he nibbled, she saw his eyes change. There, she thought. There it was. The coolness, the calculation. It remained steady as he poured the second glass of wine.

He watched and watched carefully as he opened the black bag. He reached in, brought his hand out again with the palm facing his body. And casually, he held his hand over the second glass, tipped.

She saw, in Roarke's recorder, a thin trickle of liquid.

"Bingo. He's ready for her. I'm coming in. Take third stage positions. Report any possible sightings of alternate target."

She moved to the rear doors. "I'm under."

"Take him down, kid," Feeney said and kept his eyes glued to the screens.

She stepped out into the sun and warmth. When she caught herself striding, she did her best to saunter. She was barely into the park when a lunch-hour jogger trotted up to her.

"Hey, beautiful. How about a little run?"

"How about you back off before I knock you on your pudgy ass?"

"That's my cop," Roarke said softly in her ear as she kept walking.

She spotted Baxter under a stringy tangle of dirt-colored hair, a torn T-shirt, and drooping trousers that were both smeared with what looked like egg substitute and ketchup.

Most park patrons were giving him a wide berth. As she neared him, she caught the whiff of old sweat and stale brew mixed with urine.

The man really got into character, she thought.

When she passed him she got a wheezy wolf whistle.

"Bite me."

"I dream of it," he said behind his hand. "Night and day."

In the five minutes it took her to move through the park, she was approached with propositions four times.

"You might want to take the I'll-kick-your-ass-then-eat-it look off your face, Lieutenant," McNab suggested. "Most guys'd be a little put off by it."

"I've never been," Roarke commented. "Caviar?" he said to Peabody.

"Well… I guess."

Eve fixed what she hoped was a pleasant expression on her face, and thought about the nice little chat she'd be having with her perso

Then the view opened; she saw Kevin. Everything else was set aside.

He saw her as well. A slow, boyish smile crossed his face, just a little shy at the edges. He got to his feet, hesitated, then walked to her.

"Make my dreams come true and tell me you're Stefanie."

"I'm Stefanie. And you're…"

"Wordsworth." He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. "You're even lovelier than I imagined. Than I hoped."

"And you're everything I thought you'd be." She left her hand in his. Dating had never been one of her strong suits, but she'd pla

"Not at all. I was early. I wanted…" He gestured toward the picnic. "I wanted everything to be perfect."

"Oh. It looks wonderful. You've gone to so much trouble."

"I've looked forward to this for a long time." He led her to the blanket. She passed within a foot of Roarke. "Caviar!" she said as she sat. "You certainly know how to throw a picnic."

She leaned over, turned the bottle of wine around so she could see the label. The same he'd used with Bryna Bankhead. "My favorite." She made her lips curve. "It's as if you could read my mind."