Seduction In Death

"Will you? Can you?"

"If you'd asked me that twenty-four hours ago, I'd have said no. Unless I lied." She turned around to face him. "But yeah, after I finish putting the case together, take a couple more shots at him in Interview, I'll pass it to the PA. And I'll walk away. There's always another, Roarke, and if I don't walk away, I can't face the next."

"I need time with you, Eve. Alone, away. No ghosts, no obligations, no grief."

"We're going to Mexico, right?"

"To start, anyway. I want two weeks."

She opened her mouth, a dozen reasons why she couldn't take that much time ready to trip off her tongue. And looking at him found the reason, the one that mattered, why she would. "When do you want to leave?"

"As soon as you're able. I've dealt with my schedule."

"Give me a couple days to tie the ends together. Meanwhile, I've got a direct order from my commander I have to follow. I'm ordered to use whatever method guarantees me eight hours' sleep."

"And have you chosen your method, darling Eve?"

"Yeah, and it's foolproof." She dived onto him.

She had his robe off and her hands full when the inter-house 'link beeped.

"What the hell does he want?" she demanded. "Doesn't he know we're busy?"

"Don't forget your place." Roarke blocked video, answered. "Summerset, unless the house is on fire or under massive enemy attack, I don't want to hear from you until morning."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but the lieutenant's commander is here to see her. Shall I tell him she's unavailable?"

"No. Shit." She was already scrambling up. "I'll be right down."

"Have Commander Whitney wait in the main parlor," Roarke said. "We'll join him in a moment."

"This isn't good, this can't be good." She yanked open a drawer and grabbed the first items that came to hand. "Whitney doesn't drop in for drinks and an after-work chat. Goddamn it."

Without bothering with underwear, she pulled on ancient jeans, dragged a faded NYPSD T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off over her head. Still cursing, she hopped into her boots.

In the same amount of time Roarke had managed to dress in pleated black trousers and a pristine black T-shirt. He slipped into loafers while she caught her breath.

"You know, if I wasn't in a real hurry, that would make me sick."

"What would that be?"

"How you can put yourself together like some fashion plate in under two minutes," she complained and hurried out of the room.

In the main parlor, amid the gleaming wood and glinting glass, Whitney and Galahad studied each other with cautious and mutual respect. When Eve strode in, Whitney looked relieved.

"Lieutenant, Roarke, I'm sorry to intrude on your evening."

"It's not a problem, Commander," Eve said quickly. "Is something wrong?"

"I wanted to tell you personally, and face-to-face rather than have you hear it second-hand. Lucias Dunwood's attorney's asked and received an immediate bond hearing."

Eve read the results of it on his face. "They let him out," she said flatly. "What kind of judge sets bail for a man charged with multiple first-degrees?"

"A judge who, as a friend of the Dunwood and McNamara families, should have excused himself from the hearing. It was argued that there's no physical evidence against Dunwood."

"There will be in a matter of hours," Eve began.

"And further argued," Whitney continued, "that the heaviest weight in the charges stems from the confession of Kevin Morano, which implicates Dunwood. That Dunwood has no priors, is a member of a respected family, a man who only last night was informed of his grandfather's tragic death."

"Murder," Eve snapped out. "One he committed."

"His mother attended the hearing. Made a personal plea that bail be granted so that her only son could assist her in memorializing and burying her father. Bail was set at five million, paid, and Dunwood was released into his mother's custody."

"Think." Roarke laid a hand on Eve's shoulder before she could speak. "Will he run?"

She drew herself in, forced herself to see through the rage. "No. It's still a contest. Just a different game. He intends to win. But he's pissed because I changed the board on him, so he's likely to do something rash. He's spoiled, and he's angry. We need to put a flag on the lab work. We need positive identification of the chemical samples taken from the townhouse."

"Already done," Whitney told her. "I spoke with Dickhead – Berenski," he corrected, "on the way here. You have a positive match for the illegals found in the victims. Using that evidence and the judge's relationship to the accused, the PA has filed for immediate revocation of bond."

"Will he get it?"

"We'll know within the hour. Regretfully, I'm going to have to countermand my order for you to get eight hours' sleep, Lieutenant. Your day isn't finished. Nor is mine," he added. "I'll go back to Central and stand by. With any luck, you'll be picking Dunwood back up tonight. I intend to go with you."

"With me? But…" She caught herself in time, swallowed the words back. "Yes, sir."

"I put my time in on the streets, Lieutenant. I can assure you, desk jockey or not, I'm not dead weight."

"No, sir. No disrespect intended. With your permission, Commander, I'll tag Feeney, have him snatch up McNab so they can put in time tonight on the electronics we have in Evidence."

"It remains your case. Plug the holes. I'll contact you as soon as I have word from the prosecutor."

"Commander." Roarke kept his hand on Eve's shoulder. He could feel her vibrating under it – revving to act, to do. "Have you had di

"Not as yet. I'll catch something at my desk."

It took two squeezes of Roarke's hand on her shoulder for Eve to clue in. "Um. Why don't you have something here, Commander? Save yourself some travel time."

"I don't want to put you out."

"It's no trouble at all," Roarke assured him. "I'll keep you company while Eve makes her calls." He gestured to the doorway. "Your family's well, I hope."

Eve took a deep breath and watched them leave the room. She wasn't sure which was weirder – her commander settling down to have di

"All-around weird," she said to Galahad. And leaving the socializing to Roarke, she headed up to her office to get back to work.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Because she understood his feelings exactly – and his way with words when riled was even more inventive than she was – Eve let Feeney rant, rave, and spew.

And didn't mention the fact that he'd answered the 'link wearing pajamas with little red hearts on them and that the music in the background was some bass-voiced singer crooning about making sweet love to his woman.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who'd had seduction in the plans for the evening.

"We'll get him back," she said when Feeney ran down to sputters. "I'm going to order surveillance on the mother's place and his townhouse. I don't think he'll rabbit, but I don't want to risk it. Get me something on those electronics, Feeney. Find me something to add to the pile."

"Judge oughta be stripped down, dragged through the streets, with a big sign that says BRAIN-DEAD FUCKFACE tied to his dick."

"Yeah, well, that's a pleasant and satisfying image, but I'll settle for a quick overturn on the bail. You'll tag McNab."

"Probably bouncing on Peabody," Feeney barked. "Talk about rabbits."

Eve decided it showed great restraint and sterling character for her not to mention the heart pajamas at such a prime opening. "If he is, I don't want to know about it, but you can tell Peabody to stand by for data. You pull anything out, she can follow it through."