Devoted in Death (32 page)

“A girl with a dream. And James?”

“Bartender’s vague there, but I found another waitress – who I suspect also offers sexual favors – who remembers him.”

“Hey there, pretty little thing!”

Eve heard the drunken male voice, watched Carmichael’s gaze slide over.

“Why don’t you and me take a spin on the dance floor?”

“Why don’t you go on out, start spinning, and I’ll catch up when I’m done here?”

“Alrighty.”

“A woman could rope and ride a half dozen men, should she be so inclined, in a single visit to this establishment. Just saying,” Carmichael added.

“How many do you have spinning?”

“Lost count.” Carmichael fluttered her lashes. “But I suspect Ella-Loo made more dispensing sexual favors than she did dispensing brews. Her coworker remembers Ella-Loo homed right in on Darryl Roy James like he was the answer to a prayer. And, in fact, warned her coworker off, got physical about it. Shoved her into a bathroom stall and threatened to slice her tits off – that’s a quote – if she went near James.

“Later, said coworker walked out the back for a break – that possibly included imbibing an illegal substance – and saw the two of them banging like hammers against the recycler.”

“So, straight to sex.”

“Do not pass the bjs. Neither of them ever came back. Ella-Loo had two nights’ pay coming, but they figure she made that up by stealing a case of brew from the storeroom. And the till was a few hundred short that night, according to Seriously Cute. We’re going to go by, dig up her former landlord, but the word here is, she left most everything, and owed two weeks’ rent.”

Eve pulled out in traffic as she listened. “Sex and stealing, but they couldn’t keep it at that. What the hell is that noise?”

“They’ve got a band coming in later, we’re told, but they’re doing Country Karaoke this afternoon – two to four. The fun never ends.”

“It’s sixteen-thirty. Why don’t they stop?”

“It’s fifteen-thirty here, Lieutenant.”

“How can it – never mind. Check the former residence, then head to the prison. We’ve had some hits here. I’ll send you a report. Good work.”

Eve cruised the streets, noted the pizzeria, the Chinese restaurant. Since double-parking would draw attention, she paid the freight for a lot, covered the same ground on foot, found the hardware, the 24/7, the boutique, the pawnshop, flashed the photos at other shop owners, at glide-cart operators.

They’re here, she thought, scanning faces, vehicles, buildings. She only needed one of them to step outside their nest. Go out for food, a six-pack of beer.

But she saw nothing of them, and walked back to her car.

She drove home thinking Campbell and Mulligan might be trapped in one of the buildings she’d passed, and that thought clawed at her through the miserable traffic and the icy sleet that began to fall.

She wanted home and the quiet, craved it like water after a drought. Just an hour of quiet where no one talked to her, fed her data, looked to her for the answers.

She dragged herself into the warmth.

“Early
and
alone?” Summerset gave her a long, cool look out of dark eyes.

She found she didn’t have the energy to take a swipe at him.

“They’ll be piling in later.”

The cat padded over to bump against her leg, but she just turned to the stairs, started up without taking off her coat.

Summerset went directly to the house intercom. “I believe the lieutenant has hit a wall. She’s on her way up.”

“I’ll look after her,” Roarke said.

No doubt, Summerset thought, and noted the cat had followed her up.

When she stepped into the bedroom, Roarke saw it. Exhaustion – if not physical, mental. The momentum since the morning, all the push, the rush, the progress, and she had yet to cross the finish line.

With two people’s lives depending on it.

He could feel the weight she carried.

“I didn’t know you were home, too.” She tossed a file bag on the sofa of the sitting area. “And early.”

“A bit.” He adjusted his plans to finish up some work before dinner. “How many cops in the house?”

“Just me. They’ll be coming later. An hour or two, I’d say. Sorry.”

“An hour or two will do it. I was thinking a swim would be nice. Now I don’t have to swim alone.”

“I really have to —”

“Decompress,” he finished. “We’ll both work better, be sharper, for the break.”

“I don’t think Campbell and Mulligan are getting a break.” She heard the angry snap in her voice, held up a hand so he wouldn’t snap back. “That’s wrong, just wrong, and I know better. I could feel it breaking all day, all damn day, but…”

Take an hour, Mira had advised her. Sometimes you had to listen.

“I could use a swim. I could use an hour with you, not talking about all this.”

“I could use the same.”

“Give me a sec.”

She stripped off her coat, her weapon harness, and after a moment’s thought, sat to take off her boots. Then she stood, reached for his hand. “Let’s go.”

When they stepped into the elevator, he turned her face to his, kissed her. “Welcome home.”

“Same to you.” Then she sighed, leaned her head on his shoulder because she could, she could do that with him without being weak.

Small, daily miracles.

“My brain’s tired.”

“I know, and you’ve the beginnings of a headache. I can see it.”

“Is that why they’re so blue? X-ray eyes?”

“Where you’re concerned.”

“I don’t need a blocker, just some quiet. I talked to a half a million people today, most of them at least twice. You probably did double that.”

“And won’t the quiet hour be good for both of us?”

They stepped out, into and through the tropical bliss of plants and dwarf trees toward the deep blue water.

“God, that looks really good.”

“What are you doing?” he asked as she opened a case.

“Getting a suit.”

“Whatever for?”

“Look, I know I said an hour or two, and probably, but what if cops come early? And what if one of those cops thinks, just like we did: Hey, a swim would be nice. I’m not risking naked.”

“If you want privacy…” He took the suit out of her hand, set it aside. “It only takes blocking the elevator from this level, which I did.”

“Blocking the elevator.” Absently, she rubbed at the headache between her eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that? They can’t get in here?”

“They could if McNab decided to bypass, which would be a bit of a challenge for him. But I believe we can trust him to respect our privacy.”

So saying, he tugged up her sweater.

She considered McNab, bypassing, then nodded. “No, he wouldn’t do that. One question,” she added as she took off her trousers, “before the quiet.”

“I can handle one question.”

“How can it be one hour earlier in Oklahoma than it is here, and be the same time it is here in the Bahamas? Oklahoma’s in the same damn country as we are, right? It’s America. And the Bahamas aren’t. You don’t have to be a geography whiz to know the Bahamas aren’t in the U.S. and Oklahoma is. So why, for God’s sake? How?”

Christ, he adored her. Just adored every inch of her as she stood there in her underwear, radiating annoyed confusion.

“Science is full of mysteries.”

“It seems like bullshit to me. Who the hell decides these things?” she demanded as she stripped off the tank. “Who made the gods of time anyway?”

“That’s more than one question.”

“They’re related,” she claimed and wiggled out of her panties.

Since he enjoyed her careless striptease, he waited until she’d finished, dived in, before he undressed.

She did four hard laps, then rolled over to float on her back.

“Sometimes when you’re not here I do this. Just float like this and think how I’m in this big-ass pool in this big-ass house, and if that isn’t enough to blow up your skirt, I’ve got you working upstairs or coming home soon, or better yet…”

She reached out, felt his fingers link with her. “Better yet, right here. It’s a really good deal for me.”

“For me as well. I’ll think, Look at her, just at her, and she’s mine. My one thing I wanted long before I knew to want her.”

She turned, treaded water, then slid in to twine around him. “I really love you.”

He murmured the words back to her, in Irish, made her smile.

“They really can’t get in here?”

“Locked and blocked.”

She tipped her head back. “Then let’s take each other’s mind off the day. Just wipe it out before we pick it all up again.”

She took his mouth with hers, sank into him as they sank beneath the surface.

Weightless, drifting, until her feet touched bottom and they pushed off and up together.

Into air that smelled of tropical gardens where the only sound was the gentle lap of water. Cool water, warm air, and her lover’s arms around her.

They sank again, mouth-to-mouth, this time with his hands gliding over her, finding her secrets so she surfaced breathless, heart thudding.

They rolled, lazy tumbles in the water – above and below – even as her pulse sprinted, as if in a race with pleasure. Slow and easy, then fast and rough. The quick changes left her weak and wanting, shuddering and eager.

She gave into it, to him, cupping his face in her hands, sinking again, sinking in bottomless love. And felt the power of her own surrender.

The water grew warmer, warmer as he guided them to the lagoon corner. Now the water churned lightly, tingling along her skin.

He loved the look of her like this, lost, and his, her hair slick with wet. Bracing her against the wall, he took himself under to explore all below the surface of that frothy water.

Her breast in his mouth, her heart leaping against his lips as her hands ran over him. And deeper, lifting her hips to find her center, feeling her come as he used his tongue to drive her.

Wet and warm, long and lean, and churning now as the water churned. Hips rocking in invitation as he took her up again.

He glided his lips up her body, slid his hand down to where his mouth had been. And watched her fly again, her hands gripping the edges, her eyes like amber glass as she cried out.

She shuddered, went limp.

“God. God. I can’t.”

“More. Just a little more. Let go. Everything. All. Let go.” Greed for her undid him. He used his hands again, used his mouth again, ravaging, ravishing. He wanted to hear her scream.

When she did, when her body arched, tight as a wire, he plunged into her, thrust after wild thrust.

“Mine.” Mad for her, mad from her, he drove into her, his mouth his teeth at her shoulder, her throat. “Mine. Mine.”

She cried out again, quivering. And her arms came around him, her legs banded him. “Mine,” she said. “Mine.”

And he let go. Everything and all.

Wrecked, they floated where they were in the quiet, bubbling water.

“I don’t have a headache, that’s positive.” She sighed, stroked his wet hair. “I don’t care about the Bahamas right now.”

“Then my job here is done.”

“Is it like reflexology?”

“Is what – sex? Reflexology?” He let out a half laugh as their eyes met. “Where do these thoughts come from?”

“Mr. Mira gives Mira foot rubs. Reflexology. It helps her relax, and I wondered… No, wipe that out. Wipe it because it makes me wonder about them and sex, and I really don’t want to.”

“Why, after I’ve so thoroughly… relaxed you, would you put that in my head?”

“Inadvertent. Apologies.” She kissed his cheek, rose. “I’ve got to get back upstairs.”

“Give us a hand.” He held one up to her. “As you’ve thoroughly relaxed me as well.”

They clasped forearms, and when he stood with her, she wrapped around him one more time. “It’s sleeting outside.”

“All right.”

“And we just had really terrific pool sex. It’s a high point.” She stepped up and out of the pool. “You and Mira were right. My head’s clearer, and I’m going to go back to work fresher for the break.”

“Did she suggest you have sex?”

“She wasn’t specific.” She grabbed a towel, tossed him one. “But she wanted me to take an hour. “Parsens – that’s the female killer – had a kid with James, her partner. I’ll fill you in on all of it, but he was doing a short stint in the Oklahoma State Pen, and she had a kid. She drove back to her mother’s, played a tune, then left with valuables, and left the kid behind. Walked out one night, never looked back.”

Saying nothing, he turned Eve toward him, folded her in.

“It’s not the same. The kid’s going to be okay. The kid’s better off.”

“But it brings back memories. It pokes at old wounds.”

“Some. But it helps me know Ella-Loo Parsens. It helps me think like she thinks. That’s a weapon on our side. But between that and a bunch of else, I needed the break.”

“I could study up on reflexology.”

Now she laughed, began to dress. “I’ll take the sex.”

“I bet the Miras do as well.”

“Crap, you just had to, didn’t you?”

“I did, yes. Now I’m after a glass of wine, and we’ll have some food, as I imagine you’ve had little to nothing since breakfast. Your cops can fend for themselves when they get here.”

He took her hand when she’d dressed. “Sleeting, you said?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it calls for some hearty stew.”

“That stuff with the things.”

“Of course, I was just thinking the same.”

She smirked at him when they stepped on the elevator. “The chicken stuff with the things, the dumpling things.”

“Ah, yes. We’ll see if we can manage that.”

They stopped by the bedroom first. She wanted footwear.

In the office she updated her board while he chose a white wine for the chicken and dumplings, and added a spinach salad.

She was paler than he liked, as happened too often when she pushed her own limits.

She’d started filling him in on the day when she heard the others coming.

Quiet time was over.

When they trooped in, she decided the three of them looked about as wiped as she’d been, reminding her they’d been at it nearly as long that day.

“We’re putting some food together. Take thirty. Go grab a swim.”