Innocent In Death

11

EVE WAS DRAGGED THROUGH THE STATION BY A peppy little assistant named Mercy. Eve decided she had none as she bounced along the corridors, whipping Eve through checkpoints and keeping up a rapid-fire monologue as she all but skipped along in zippy black skids.

“Everyone’s positively juiced to extreme about tonight’s premiere. Nadine’s about the biggest thing in media right now, and the station’s totally gone that she opted to stay with us and do this show. And having you as the first guest is beyond mag. I mean, the two of you are, like, so extremely scorching.”

Mercy had pink hair tailed up in little butterfly pins, with what seemed to be their tiny progeny flying out of the arch of her left eyebrow.

It was disconcerting.

“You need to meet the producer and the director and the exec tech, then we’re going to head straight to makeup and wardrobe. I can get you anything you want. I’m totally yours for the show-coffee, tea, water-we got flat and fizzy-soft drinks. Nadine says you go for coffee. We’re going to pop in on the director, real quick.”

“I don’t want to-”

But she was almost shoved into an office, had her hand pumped, before she was corralled into another office, with another hand pump.

The air was vibrating so fast it made her head ache.

Then, with Mercy still yapping like a Pomeranian on Zeus, Eve was dragged into makeup where the brightly lit mirrors gleamed over the long, long counter crowded with a dizzying array of pots and tubes and brushes and strange instruments that looked like some wicked tools designed for torture.

Worse-worse than the idea she was pressured by the brass and by friendship to appear on screen, worse than the yapping in her ear, worse than the knowledge that some or all of those instruments and pots and tubes would be used on her-was the woman who stood behind a high-backed black chair grinning a toothy grin.

“Oh, Mother of God.”

“You two know each other, right?” Mercy babbled on. “Trina, I’m going to leave Lieutenant Dallas in your magic hands, go get her coffee. Nadine stocked some special for her. Anything you want?”

Trina, her hair a black-and-white fountain on top of her head, her eyes an unearthly green, whipped a bright blue cape from a hook. “Water’d be good. Flat.”

“Be right back!”

“You look like dog shit, Dallas,” Trina commented.

“This is a recurring nightmare. I’m just going to punch myself in the face until I wake up.”

“You’ve got enough bruising under your eyes, you look like you’ve already been decked a few times today. I’ll fix it.”

“Why are you here? Why is it you?”

“First, because I’m the best and Nadine knows it. She can get the best. Second, because of you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have worked on Nadine at your place.”

Trina snapped the cape like a matador at a bull. “Appreciate it.”

“So, somehow, I brought this on myself.”

“You’re lucky it’s me. Because I’m the best, and because I know you, and I can-thousands couldn’t-make you look like yourself.”

“I already look like myself.”

“No, you look like dog shit. But you’re under there, and I know how to find you. Plus, I gotta pump it up for the cameras, but I won’t make you look like an LC on the prowl.”

In her life there were few who struck an active chord of fear in Eve. Trina was one of them. As if she knew it, Trina smiled again, tapped the back of the chair.

“Sit. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Remember, I’m armed.” But she sat. What choice did she have?

“So how come you don’t look like you just got back from vacation? Mavis said you and Roarke took a few days at the beach.” She scooped her fingers through Eve’s hair, frowned, let the hair shift through. “Need a little trim.”

“God. Oh, God.”

Trina simply put the cape over Eve. “And how come you haven’t been over to see Mavis and that sweet baby since you got back?”

One thing about the cape, Eve noted, she could wring her hands if she felt the need. And no one could see. “I haven’t had time.”

“Your best and oldest friend just had a kid.” Trina lowered her head so her face was pressed to Eve’s, so those green eyes pinned Eve’s in the mirror. “You know I had to sit on her to keep her from coming tonight. It’s too cold to take that baby out. You gotta make time.”

“All right. Okay.”

“Belle’s the most beautiful thing that ever drew breath, I swear.” Straightening again, Trina pressed her thumbs on some point at the back of Eve’s neck, moved down her shoulders. “You’re a mess of knots, as usual.”

Eve just closed her eyes. She heard Mercy come back in-yap, yap, yap-then go away again. She heard the little snips and buzzes as Trina did whatever the hell she did with hair. She jolted when the chair eased back.

“You gotta relax, okay? You don’t look good, I don’t look good.”

“I obsess about that all the time.” And Eve closed her eyes again. It was one night, she reminded herself, and she’d get through it. Small change in the big scheme.

Fingers and thumbs pressed gently along her jaw, over her temples, along the sides of her neck, her shoulders. The clever acupressure and draining fatigue combined to pull her into sleep.

She surfaced to a murmur of voices, to light brushing, almost a tickling over her face. And she scented him. Even before her head cleared enough for her to recognize the rhythm and tone of his voice, she scented Roarke.

“Just about done,” Trina was saying. “What she’s wearing’s fine-so I guess you picked it-but I’ll take a look at the other deal you brought in, in case it’s better. Wardrobe’s going to want to have a look anyway.”

“I’m not changing,” Eve muttered.

“And she’s back.” Trina eased the chair back up. Since it was facing away from the mirror now, all Eve saw was Roarke.

“Morning,” he said, and taking her hand, ran his thumb over the back of it. “You look rested.”

“Miracles performed daily,” Trina claimed. “Let’s just polish off the hair.” Something must have gotten through as Trina put down the tools of her trade. “You know, we’ll hit that right before we go on. I’ve got to check on a couple things anyway and Nadine’s due in for her touch-up. Green Room’s just across the hall, to the right. It’s nice.”

She took off the protective cape. “Want a look before you head out?”

Eve rose, glanced toward the mirror. As advertised, she looked like herself. Brighter, she supposed, with her eyes and her lips defined and smudged up with color, but she was recognizable. And the dog shit had been well and truly buried.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay?” Trina snorted. “Nowyou look like you’ve been on vacation. Don’t spill anything on that jacket because I think they’re going to want to go with it.”

“I’ll see she behaves.” Taking Eve’s hand again, he walked with her across the hall into the Green Room that was actually pale peach.

There was a generous wall screen currently tuned to Channel 75’s programming, generous sofas and chairs in a calming sea green, and a generous tray of fruit, cheese, and crackers on a wide counter.

“I didn’t expect you to come.”

Roarke raised a brow. “Of course I came. It’s a big night.”

“And you brought the other gear in case I messed up what I already had on.”

“Just part of the service.”

“I figured you’d be pissed at me.”

“I imagined you’d be pissed at me.” This time when he took her hands, he brought them both to his lips. “Why don’t we cancel that out? I had a considerable brood on most of the day, and I’m tired of carrying it around.”

“I thought you told me the Irish like to brood.”

“Oh, we love it. We use it to write songs and stories. But I’ve had enough of that for the time being. And never enough of you.”

Her heart lightened. How had she managed to stand, she wondered, when it had been so heavy? “I love you.”

He drew her in, touched his lips to her brow, her cheeks, the shallow dent in her chin, then laid them warmly over hers. She pressed against him, her arms linked around his waist, as together they deepened the kiss.

“I’d offer you my office,” Nadine said as she leaned on the doorjamb, “but Dallas has already been in makeup.”

Eve kept her arms linked for a moment more before she stepped back. “You sicced Trina on me.”

“Igave you Trina,” Nadine corrected. “She’s damn good, which is why I hired her for the show. Plus, for tonight, I figured your point of view would be ‘better the devil you know.’”

“Got a point,” Eve decided.

“You look good, which is essential. Strong, alert, smart, attractive,” Nadine mused, walking a circle around Eve. “And all cop. We’ll leave the glamour for me.”

“You wear it so well,” Roarke commented. “You look radiant, Nadine, and polished as a jewel.”

“I do, don’t I?” Laughing, Nadine shook back her chic bob of streaky blond hair, did a styling turn in the electric blue suit with its pencil-thin skirt and waist-cinching jacket. The heels were black skyscrapers that set off the wink of a diamond ankle chain.

“I didn’t think I’d be nervous, but I am. There’s a lot riding on this first show. Dallas, I don’t want to prep you. I don’t want the interview to be stale or rehearsed, but I do want to go over a few points.”

“I’ll get out of your way, then,” Roarke began, but Nadine shook her head.

“No. You can run faster than I can in these shoes if she makes a break for it. Let’s just sit.”

“Something to drink, then.” Roarke gestured to the well-stocked counter. “Or eat.”

“After.” Nadine pressed a hand to her stomach as she sat on one of the sofas. “My system’s on full alert.”

“I’m good,” Eve said. “What’s to be nervous about? It’s what you do.”

“That’s what I tell myself, but I’ve never done exactly this before. And this was the big gold hoop. Now that I’ve got it in my hot little hand, I can’t afford to drop it. So…”

Nadine scooted to the edge of her chair as if she might be the one to make a run for it. “We’ll have to touch on the Icove case. That’s what got me the gig. But I’m not going to linger on that. I’m going to want to revisit that after the book and the vid hit. The baby-market business is still fresh, so we’ll discuss that. Speaking of babies, Belle was well named. God, she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Eve squirmed. “Sure.”

“I’ve done an interview with Tandy, and with Mavis on that one, and we’ll air pieces of those during the spot. We’re going to talk about what you do, how you do it. How much will you be able to tell me about the Foster homicide?”

“The investigation’s ongoing.”

Nadine didn’t miss a beat, or the chance to smirk. “I’m going to need more than that-leads being pursued, avenues explored, the players, the scene, the victim. It’s calledNow for a reason. But we’ll keep that until we’re on. It’s a hard news show, but I will have to ask about Roarke.”

Nadine put up a hand before Eve could speak. “I can’t interview Roarke’s cop in a venue like this without asking about Roarke. Don’t worry, it’s not boxers or briefs, just an overview, we’ll say.”

She aimed an amused, inquiring glance at Roarke, who only laughed and shook his head.

“How you manage to balance the work with your life,” Nadine continued. “If marriage has changed how you do the work, or how you look at the job. We’ll get on and off. So…”

She checked her wrist unit. “I’ve got to get touched up. Trina will take a last look at you in a few minutes, then Mercy will bring you into the studio. And we’ll go from there. Dallas.” Nadine pressed a hand on hers. “Thanks.”

“You better hold that ’til after. You may not like my answers.”

“Thanks,” she said again, and rose. Then she turned to Roarke. “How about one right here, big guy?” She tapped a finger to her lips. “For luck.”

He stepped to her, kissed her lightly on the mouth. “Here’s to a thirty-percent share.”

“Your lips, God’s ears.”

In the end, it went okay, as far as Eve could tell. Though she couldn’t understand how anyone could be juiced about sitting in front of an image of the city, under hot lights, while robocams slithered around like snakes.

Theme music shimmered out, and she heard Nadine take three quiet breaths while some guy on the floor signaled with his fingers. Then Nadine aimed her eyes toward one of those robots.

“Good evening. I’m Nadine Furst, and this isNow.”

They did, as Nadine had said, touch on the Icove case from the previous fall. Yes, Eve believed the laws against human cloning were correct and just. No, she didn’t hold the clones themselves responsible for what the Icoves had done.

She watched the clips as the separate interviews with Tandy Applebee, her husband and their infant son, and Mavis, Leonardo, and Belle were run. Both women got teary as they spoke about their friendship, and how Eve had saved Tandy’s life, saved the baby-who they’d named Quentin Dallas Applebee-from being sold in the black market, and had broken the ring only hours before their babies had been born.

“How does that make you feel?” Nadine asked.

“Like I did my job.”

“Just that?”

Eve shifted. What the hell. “Sometimes it gets personal. It’s not supposed to, but it does. This was personal. Mavis and I go back, and she and my partner are tight. Mavis is the one who pushed me, pushed us, to look for Tandy. She deserves a lot of credit for that, for standing up for a friend. You could say, in this case, it was friendship that ultimately connected the cases, and cleared them both. The job’s not just about clearing a case, it’s about justice. I did my job.”

“A demanding, dangerous, high-powered job. You’re married to a man with a lot of demands on his time, who some might term dangerous, and who is certainly high-powered. How do you balance the work with your private life?”

“Maybe by knowing it’s not always going to balance, and being married to someone who gets that. A lot of cops…There can be friction in the personal area,” she amended, “because the job means you put in long hours, inconvenient hours that mess up schedules. You miss dinners or dates or whatever.”

“Which may seem minor,” Nadine said, “but in reality, those dinners, dates, and so on are part of what makes up a personal life.”

“Lapping into personal life is part of it, that’s all. It’s just the job. It’s tough for a civilian to deal, day after day. In my opinion, cops are mostly a bad bet in the personal arena. But some make it work. It works, I guess, when the civilian gets it. When the civilian respects and values the job, or at least understands it. I got lucky there.”

She shifted her gaze to where Roarke stood behind the range of cameras. “I got lucky.”

They broke for the ads that paid the bills, and Trina marched over with a flurry of brushes.

“Nice,” Nadine told her.

“Is it almost over?”

“Nearly there.” She thought, but didn’t say, what a moment it had been when Eve’s gaze had shifted away, when the emotion had swarmed into her eyes on her claim that she’d gotten lucky. Thirty-percent share? Nadine thought. Her ass. That single moment was going to blow the ratings out of the stratosphere.

“Your current case,” Nadine began when they were back. “The shocking murder of Craig Foster, a history teacher. What can you tell us?”

“The investigation is active and ongoing.”

Flat voice, flat eyes, Nadine noted with satisfaction. All cop now, and the contrast was perfect. “You’ve said that to know the killer, know the victim. Tell us about Craig Foster. Who was he?”

“He was, by all accounts, a young and dedicated teacher, a loving husband, a good son. A good man, and a creature of habit. He was frugal, responsible, and ordinary in the sense he did his work, he lived his life, and enjoyed both.”

“What does that tell you about his killer?”

“I know that his killer knew and understood Craig Foster’s habits, and used those habits to take his life, to take a husband, a son, a teacher. That he did so not in heat, not on impulse, but with forethought and calculation.”

“What makes this crime particularly heinous is that it was committed in a school where children from the ages of six to thirteen walk the halls. In fact, the body was discovered by two young girls.”

“Heinous? Murder by definition-by its nature-is a heinous crime. Where it took place, in this case, might make it more callous to some. It was also efficient.”

Nadine leaned forward. “How so?”

“The victim’s habits. The killer had only to observe and note the victim’s daily routine, know the schedule, and use those elements. Having students, teachers, support staff in and around the halls, in and around classrooms and other facilities, was an advantage. He took it.”

“Your suspects. You’ve interviewed a number of people thus far. Today you brought in Reed Williams, another teacher at Sarah Child Academy, for questioning.”

“We questioned Mr. Williams, and have charged him in another matter. He is not charged with Mr. Foster’s murder.”

“But he is a suspect? Your prime suspect?”

“The investigation is active and ongoing,” Eve repeated. “Until it’s closed, we’ll continue to question a number of individuals. I’m unable to tell you more at this time.”

Nadine made a few more forays; Eve blocked her. When the director signaled the time, Nadine leaned forward again. “Tell me this, if the killer’s watching right now, what would you say to him?”

“That my partner and I stand for Craig Foster now. We have a job to do, and we’re damn good at it. He should go ahead and watch plenty of screen now because they don’t provide one in the cage he’ll be living in for the rest of his life.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Dallas. This is Nadine Furst,” she said to the camera. “Good night, forNow.”

You were perfect,” Roarke said when they were finally able to get out of the station.

“It must’ve gone okay, seeing as Nadine jumped up and did a victory dance the minute the stupid cameras went off.”

“Perfect,” he repeated, and turning her to him, laid his mouth on hers. “Except for the misuse of a pronoun.”

“Huh?”

“You said ‘I got lucky.’ The correct statement, darling Eve, is ‘We got lucky.’” He kissed her again, softly. “We.”

“I guess we did. No vehicle?” she added with a glance around the lot.

“I had it taken back so I could drive home with my wife.”

“In that case, you take the wheel.” She paused. “I’m glad you hung around.” When she got into the car, she stretched out her legs. Sighed. “Nadine gets off on that whole circus. Takes all kinds.”

“It does. There are a lot of people who may be wondering how you do what it is you do, day after day. So, is this Reed Williams your man?”

“He’s top choice right now. And get this, Oliver Straffo’s his lawyer.”

“Straffo’s a little high-dollar for someone on a teacher’s salary.”

“Williams does all right-private sector, tenure. But it was Straffo’s kid who found the body. This guy’s looking good for doing Foster, in his kid’s school, where his kid can slip on the blood and vomit, and he’s representing him. Yeah, takes all kinds.”

“It’s possible Straffo believes he’s innocent.”

“Yeah, maybe. Straffo doesn’t know that his own wife was one of the notches on Williams’s belt. Williams likes to hunt and gather among the staff and mothers. Has the morals of a rabbit, and Rabbit’s one of the things we’ve got him on. Had some in his toy box in his bedroom. It’s the illegals we charged him with so far, and that’s where Straffo answered the call. It bugs me.”

“Lawyers do what they do, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, but say you had a kid and you find out one of her teachers is playing twist the pretzel in her school.” Because her current position was too comfortable, and she feared she might just drop into sleep, Eve pushed up. “That he uses illegal substances for his own sexual satisfaction. Do you figure you’d jump to defend him?”

“It’s hard to say, but at first thought, unlikely. Then again, maybe Straffo has the morals of a rabbit, too.”

“Bet he wouldn’t jump so fast if he knew his client had dipped into his own personal well.”

“Do you intend to tell him?”

Eve thought of Allika, her guilt, her fear. “Not unless it pertains to the case. If I find and can prove that Williams killed Foster because Foster knew about the affair, yeah, Straffo’s going to get some bad news.”

“Are you sure he doesn’t already know?”

“No, I’m not sure. And I’d be looking hard at him, too, if I could place him at or near the scene. He was in his office by eight-thirty that morning. That gives him a little squeeze time to have done it, but it’s a very tight squeeze. He was in a partners’ meeting from eight-thirty to nine, and in his office again, with his paralegal, admin, and several others in and out until he left for a lunch meeting at noon. He’s looking clear on this.”

“I’m not quite sure why you would have looked at him. It wasn’t Foster doing his wife, after all. Now if Williams had been murdered…”

“Reputation.” She shrugged. “It’s not such a stretch that Foster was killed to protect a reputation. Williams-that beeps the loudest. But I don’t think Straffo would have cared to have his wife’s infidelity made public.” She fought back a yawn. “Bad for the image.”

“I can promise, Lieutenant, that if I were in Straffo’s position, I’d aim for you and your paramour. Not some innocent bystander.”

“Back at you.” But because it made her think of Magdelana again, Eve shut it off. “Anyway, we’ll keep squeezing Williams, see what oozes out. Um…I’m getting poked from various directions that we-I usewe as it’s going to be the only pronoun in this case-need to go see Mavis and the kid.”

“All right.”

“That’s it? Just all right?”

“It’ll be fine. We survived the birth. A baby all wrapped up in a pink blanket should be a welcome relief after that ordeal.”

“I guess. Peabody says we need to take a gift. A teddy bear or something.”

“That should be simple enough.”

“Good. You do that part. I don’t get the bear thing. Aren’t bears something people generally try to avoid so as not to be mauled?”

When he laughed, she glanced over. And just looking at him, seeing the laugh in his eyes when he looked at her, had everything inside her going warm.

She laid her hand over his as he drove through the gates of home. “Let’s try for that balance Nadine was asking about,” she said. “And for a while, no case, no work, no obligations. Just you. Just me.”

“My favorite combination.”

She made the move, wrapping her arms around him, rubbing her lips to his when they were out of the car. And the warmth that had bloomed inside her spread like spring. Every doubt, every hurt, every fear, every question drained away in it.

Just you, she thought again as they glided into the house. Just me.

By tacit agreement they made their way to the elevator. The stairs would take too long. Once inside, riding up, he nudged her coat off her shoulders, and she his. But the gestures weren’t hurried, weren’t frantic. Instead they were smooth and easy, with the knowledge they’d reclaimed something that had slipped, just for a moment, a finger’s span out of reach.

In the bedroom there was a glimmer of moonshine, soft and blue through the windows, through the skylight over the bed. They undressed each other, distracted each other with long, lingering kisses, long, lingering strokes.

Her heart felt as if it were back, exactly where it belonged, and beating fast and thickly against his.

“I missed you,” she said, holding tight. “I missed us.”

“A ghra,”he murmured, and thrilled her.

She was his again, completely his again. His strong, complicated, and endlessly fascinating wife. Close and his, with nothing between them. The taste of her filled him, the long, lean lines of her enticed him.

Here was the balance Nadine had questioned, and that no one who didn’t feel it, didn’t know it, didn’t have could ever fully understand. They simply fit, all the complex and ragged edges of both of them, simply fit. One to the other, to make each whole.

When they lay on the bed she wrapped around him, and she sighed again. A sound he knew meant they were home, at last. Needing to give, he used his lips, his hands, his body, until the sigh became a moan.

No one else, she thought, could ever reach her as he did. And, feeling him quiver at her touch, knew for him it was the same.

As she rolled over that first liquid crest, she cupped his face in her hands. She brought his lips to hers once more for a kiss of shattering tenderness.

“My love,” he repeated in Irish. My only. My heart. She heard his voice as he slipped inside her, saw his eyes as they moved together.

Slow and lovely and real. And every brutal thing that belonged to the world was separate from this. Then fingers twined, mouths meeting, they slipped away together.

Later, curled against him, content and drifting, she murmured, “Lucky us,” and she heard him chuckle in the dark before she slid into sleep.