The In Death Collection 06-10 (53 page)

“It doesn’t matter what I say, or what I think. How did Holloway find out?”

“It was in the West Indies. Piper and I had taken a vacation. We’d been careful. We’re discreet. We understand that we’d lose clients if they knew. We’d gone away where we could have a little time alone together, to be free to be together openly as any other couple can. Holloway was there. He didn’t know us, nor we him. We had registered under different names.”

He paused, sipped his water. “A few months later he came in for a consult. It was just . . . fate. I didn’t even recognize him at first. But after his screening, when the data on him showed up and we refused his application, he reminded us where we’d met, and how.”

Rudy stared into his water, shifted the glass from hand to hand. “He was very clear as to how it would be handled, what he wanted. Piper was destroyed, terrified. We both believe very strongly in the service we provide. You see, we know just what it means to be matched with someone who fills your life, who makes the difference in it. We’re dedicated to helping others find what we have.”

“Your dedication’s earned you a nice fat portfolio.”

“Making a profit doesn’t negate the worth of the service. You live well, Lieutenant,” he said quietly. “Does that negate the worth of your marriage?”

Walked into that one, she told herself, but only lifted her
eyebrows. “Let’s talk about you and how you handled Holloway.”

“I wanted to stand against him, but she couldn’t.” He closed his eyes. “He managed to get her alone, to threaten her. He even tried to induce her to . . .”

He opened his eyes again, and they were brimming with fury. “He wanted her. His kind, they want what belongs to someone else. So we paid, we did everything he demanded. Still, if he came in and caught her alone, he would touch her.”

“You must have hated him for that.”

“Yes. Yes, I hated him for that. For everything, but most of all for that.”

“Enough to kill him, Rudy?”

“Yes,” he said evenly before his lawyer could stop him. “Yes, enough to kill him.”

“We don’t have enough to charge him.”

She knew it. Damn it, she knew it, but Eve went to battle with the assistant prosecuting attorney anyway.

“He’s got the means, he’s got the opportunity, and God knows he had a motive with Holloway. He had access to the enhancements used on all four victims,” she continued before APA Rollins could speak. “He knew all of them.”

“You don’t even have a decent circumstantial case against him.” Carla Rollins held her ground. She was barely five-two, despite the skyscraper heels she habitually wore. Her eyes were the color of blackberries, exotically slanted in a round face. Her complexion was creamy and smooth, her figure neat, her hair a ribbon-straight ebony that fell precisely one inch above her slim shoulders.

She looked, and sounded, like a child care professional, and had a core as tough as moon rock. She liked to win, and didn’t see a victory in
The State
v.
Hoffman.

“You want me to bag him when he’s got his hands around the next victim’s throat?”

“That would be handy,” Rollins said evenly. “Barring that, get me a confession.”

Eve paced the length of Whitney’s office. “I can’t get you a confession if we spring him.”

“So far all he’s guilty of is banging his sister,” Rollins said in her soft, sweet voice. “And paying blackmail. Maybe we could cook him on illegal and unlicensed solicitation since he knew Holloway’s predilections, but it’s a stretch. I can’t give you murder, Dallas, without more evidence or a confession.”

“Then I need to sweat him longer.”

“His lawyer’s called for a humane break. We can’t hold him any longer today,” she added as Eve snorted. “You can pick him up again tomorrow, after the standard twelve hours out.”

“I want a bracelet on him.”

This time Rollins sighed. “Dallas, I don’t have cause to order a security bracelet on Hoffman at this time. At this point he’s only a suspect, and not a solid one at that. He’s entitled, under the law, to his privacy and freedom of motion.”

“Christ, give me something.” Eve dragged both hands through her hair. Her eyes were burning from lack of sleep, her stomach raw from caffeine. Her still-healing wound was throbbing. “I want him tested and profiled. I want Mira to do him.”

“It’ll have to be voluntary.” Rollins held up one delicate hand before Eve could swear at her. She was used to cops swearing at her, and it didn’t particularly bother her. But she was thinking, and didn’t want the interruption. “I might be able to convince his attorney it’s in his best interest. Cooperation in this area would influence the PA’s office not to pursue the solicitation charges.”

Satisfied with the idea, Rollins rose. “Clear it with Mira, and I’ll see what I can do. But spring him, Dallas, within the hour.”

Whitney waited until Rollins breezed out, then shifted in his chair. “Sit down, Lieutenant.”

“Commander—”

“Sit,” he repeated and jabbed a finger at the chair across
from his desk. “I’m concerned,” he began when she took her seat.

“I need more time to squeeze him. McNab’s working the system at Personally Yours. We could have something by the end of the day.”

“You concern me, Lieutenant.” He leaned back as Eve frowned. “You’ve been on this case nearly twenty-four/seven for more than a week.”

“So has the killer.”

“It’s unlikely the killer is still recovering from life-threatening wounds received in the line of duty.”

“My health chart’s clear.” She heard the edge of resentment in her own voice and took a careful breath. If she couldn’t maintain with Whitney, she’d only prove his point. “Your concern is appreciated, sir, but unnecessary.”

“Is it?” He lifted his brows as his sharp eyes scanned her face. Pale, shadowed, running up fast on exhaustion, was his considered opinion. “Then you’re willing to go down to the clinic and take a physical?”

The resentment bounced back, all but vibrating down to the fingers she fought not to curl into fists. “Is that an order, Commander Whitney?”

He could make it so. “I’ll give you a choice, Dallas. Take the physical, abide by the results, or go off duty until oh nine hundred tomorrow.”

“I don’t consider those viable options at this time.”

“One or the other, or I take you off the case.”

She nearly sprang from the chair. He saw her bunch and brace then vibrate. But she stayed in her seat. Color rushed into her face, but it didn’t stay long. “He’s killed four times, and I’m the only one who’s close to knowing him. You take me off, we lose time. And we lose people.”

“It’s your choice, Dallas. Go home,” he said more quietly. “Get a decent meal and some sleep.”

“And while I’m doing that, Rudy walks.”

“I can’t hold him, I can’t bracelet him. But that doesn’t
mean I can’t put a tag on him.” Now Whitney smiled a little. “He’ll be watched. And tomorrow, we’ll hold a press conference. You called that right, Dallas. The mayor and the chief will bare the brunt of it, but you’ll get flack.”

“I can handle it.”

“I know. We’ll release as many details as we can to alert the public.” He lifted his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men.” He let out a short laugh. “Go home, Dallas. You’re going to need to be fresh tomorrow.”

She went because the alternatives were unacceptable. She couldn’t back off from the case, and she couldn’t risk a departmental physical. Whatever she said out loud, she had a suspicion she wouldn’t pass one at the moment.

She ached all over, enough to warn her she was going to have to break down and take a painkiller to get through. Worse, she couldn’t quite focus, not now that she was in the car and heading home. Her head insisted on floating somewhere inches above her shoulders.

When she nearly clipped a glide-cart while making the turn onto Madison, she shifted into auto and let the program guide her through traffic.

Okay, so maybe she needed a nap and a little fuel. But being off duty didn’t mean she couldn’t run some more scans and searches; it didn’t mean she couldn’t work on her own from her home office.

She needed more coffee and something solid in her stomach, that was all.

And she nearly nodded off as the car slid through the gates and up the drive toward the house.

The lights in the windows blazed against the dark and made her eyes smart. Her head pounded like the back beat in one of Mavis’s more enthusiastic numbers. Her shoulder thrummed.

When she stepped out of the car, her legs felt rubbery and
disconnected. Because she felt weak, her mood was foul as she pushed through the grand front door.

And there was Summerset.

“Your guests have already arrived,” he announced. “You were expected twenty minutes ago.”

“Kiss my ass” was her best suggestion as she stripped off her jacket and deliberately dropped it over the newel post.

“The prospect holds no appeal for me. One moment of your time, however, Lieutenant.” He simply stepped in front of her before she could head up the stairs.

“Life’s too short to spend a moment with you. Out of the way or I’ll take you out.”

She looked ill, he thought, and her threat lacked its usual bite. “The book you requested for Roarke has been located,” he said stiffly, but his eyes were narrowed as he studied her face.

“Oh.” She braced a hand on the newel post as she tried to get through the fog in her brain to think. “Fine. Good.”

“Shall I order it to be shipped?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s the idea.”

“You’ll need to transfer the price, plus shipping, to the book searcher’s account. As the book searcher knows me, he’s agreed to send the item immediately and trust that you’ll transfer the appropriate funds within twenty-four hours. I noted the details on your E-mail.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll take care of it.” She had to swallow pride. “Thank you.” And she turned toward the stairs. Looked up. She thought it would be like climbing a mountain, but she couldn’t swallow another gulp of pride and take the elevator while he was watching.

“You’re quite welcome,” he murmured, then stepped away to the in-house screen while she moved up the steps. “Roarke, the lieutenant is home and on her way up.” He hesitated, then sighed. “She looks unwell.”

She was going to take a hot shower, fuel up, and get to work. Eve calculated she could at least run a probability scan
on Rudy with the data she had. If it clicked, she might be able to pressure the PA into slapping a surveillance bracelet on him.

But when she stepped into the bedroom, Roarke was already waiting.

“You’re late.”

“I hit traffic,” she said as she unhooked her weapon harness.

“Strip.”

She knew she was punchy, but she was pretty sure this was a first. “Well, that’s real romantic, Roarke, but—”

“Strip,” he said again and picked up a robe. “Put this on. Trina’s set up for you in the pool house.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” She raked her hands through her hair. “Do I look in the mood for a goddamn beauty session?”

“No, you look like you’re in the mood for a goddamn hospital session.” Temper snapping, he tossed down the robe. “Take care of yourself here, or that’s where you’re going.”

Her eyes went dark and dangerous. “Don’t push me. You’re my spouse, not my keeper.”

“A fucking keeper’s just what you need.” He grabbed her arm and, because her reflexes were slow, shoved her into a chair. “Stay down,” he warned in a voice that sizzled with barely restrained fury. “Or I’ll tie you down.”

She gripped the arm of the chair, fingers digging in as he stalked across the room to the recessed AutoChef. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“You. Have you looked at yourself recently? You stand over bodies that have more color than you do right now. There are shadows under your eyes thick enough to hide in. And you’re hurting.” That was what snapped it for him. “Do you think I can’t see it?”

He came back with a tall glass filled with amber liquid. “Drink it.”

“You’re not tranqing me.”

“I can pour it down your throat. I’ve done it before.” He leaned over until their faces were close, and the bitter anger
in his eyes made her want to shrink away. “I won’t let you make yourself sick. You’ll drink this, Eve, and you’ll do what I tell you, or I’ll make you. We both know you’re too damn tired to stop me.”

She snatched the glass, and though she thought there would be lovely satisfaction gained from heaving it across the room, she didn’t think she was up to dealing with the consequences. Her eyes burned into his over the rim as she gulped it down.

“There. Happy now?”

“You’ll have something solid later.” He bent down to tug off her boots.

“I can undress myself.”

“Shut up, Eve.”

For form’s sake, she tried to tug her foot free, but he simply held on and pried off her boot. “I want a shower and a meal, and I want you to leave me alone.”

He pulled off the other boot, then started on the buttons of her shirt.

“Did you hear me? I said leave me alone.” The fact that she could hear the petulance in her own voice only added depression to exhaustion.

“Not in this or any other lifetime.”

“I don’t like to be taken care of. It irritates me.”

“Then you’re going to be irritated for quite a while.”

“I’ve been irritated since I met you.” She closed her eyes on that, but thought she caught a flicker of a smile around his mouth.

He undressed her quickly, efficiently, then bundled her into the robe. The limpness of her muscles told him the painkiller he’d added to the nutri-drink he’d made her was already at work. The mild tranq he’d laced it with should have done no more than relax her, but in her current state he imagined it would knock her out very shortly.

All for the best.

Still she slapped at him as he lifted her. “Don’t carry me.”

“I hate to repeat myself, but shut up, Eve.” He walked to the elevator and stepped inside with her.

“I don’t wanna be babied.” Her head spun once, one long, lilting circle that forced her to let it drop on his shoulder. “What the hell was in that drink?”

“All manner of things. Just relax.”

“You know I hate tranqs.”

“I know.” He turned his head, brushed his lips over her hair. “You can give me grief about it tomorrow.”

“Will. I let you push me round, you’ll get used to it. I’m gonna lie down for a minute.”

“That’s right.” He felt her head loll back, and the arm around his neck slid off and dangled as he stepped out into the pool house.

Mavis raced out from under the fanning fronds of a palm. “Jesus, Roarke, is she hurt?”

“I tranqued her.” He moved through the lush flowering plants, skirted the side of the shimmering waters of the pool, and laid his wife on the long, padded table Trina had already set up.

“Man, she’ll be pissed royal when she comes out of it.”

“I imagine so.” Gently, he brushed the untidy hair back from Eve’s forehead. “Not so tough now, are you, Lieutenant?” He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Don’t worry about the styling, Trina. She needs relaxation therapy.”