Innocent In Death

21

AS LOUIS NEEDED TO GET UP TO CCU, EVE TURNED to Mira. “Well?”

“She’s an excellent actor.”

“She’s in Drama Club.”

“I’m not surprised. I’d need a longer session with her, probably more than one to be definitive, but I tend to agree with your analysis. She enjoyed having me focused on her, even though she was very aware of you. She wanted to be sure you were listening to her.”

“And I was. She was pretty damn detailed in the conversation she claims to have had with her mother. ‘I love you best. I know you’ll be brave.’ Made sure she got in there, too, how her mother sometimes gets sick. She’s planned it all, rehearsed it all. Had to ad lib since Cora ruined it for her.”

“Or postponed it. Allika Straffo may never wake up. Eve, she’s enjoying this now. The hospital, the crisis, the way the medical staff treats her so gently. Her father’s fear and grief, her nanny’s attention.”

“Yeah, she’ll milk it. But it’s going to run dry real soon. I need you and Louise to use some muscle, get Straffo and the kid in one of the family rooms here tonight. I don’t want the girl in with her mother.”

“In a situation like this, with the mother critical, the CCU staff will encourage family to spend time with the patient.” Like Eve, Mira considered the options. “If you alert the staff, it’ll show,” Mira said. “She may pick up on it.”

“Yeah, yeah, she would.” Eve paced a few strides down the corridor, then back. “Okay. I want a twenty-four/seven guard on her. I’ll get one who has some medical training, but it’s going to be my man on her.”

“Because you think Rayleen may try to finish what she started.”

“Probably not, not at this point, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ll couch Louise, so she makes sure it trickles down to the kid that her mother’s going to be watched every minute, for medical reasons. I’m going to have to slip the knife into Straffo, and tell him Allika’s under suspicion of two murders, and I’m putting a guard on the door.”

“The man’s barely holding on.”

“I’m counting on that,” Eve countered. “And I have to count on him letting go. Rayleen doesn’t do things out of desperation or impulse, so I think Allika’s secure for now. This is just precaution.”

“How are you going to handle her?”

“I’m going to let her think she’s sliding through it. Let her relax, and make sure she believes she’s snowed me. Poor kid, her mother kills a couple of people, then tries to do herself. I need to lay it out for Straffo, and that’s not going to be easy.”

“He won’t believe you.”

“I don’t know, maybe not. I’m working on that part.”

Daddy was furious. Rayleen couldn’t hear everything he said, or that Lieutenant Dallas said to him, but she could tell it made Daddy mad. Still, the snippets she caught when her father’s voice rose were enough to please her.

Stupid police, she thought as she lay curled up on the sofa of the waiting area, pretending to sleep. They thought they were so smart, but she wasso much smarter.

If nosy-posy Cora hadn’t interfered, her mother would already be dead. But Rayleen wasn’t sure that would be better. She could tell by the tight faces around her that everybody knew her mother was going to die anyway. This was so much more interesting.

It was like Ms. Hallywell said about being on stage. If someone forgets a line or says the wrong one, you have to be able to think, in character, and keep going.

She kept her eyes closed and smiled inside when she heard her father.

“My wife is fighting for her life.”

“Your wife tried to take her life. I’m sorry.” The lieutenant’s voice was calm. “I hope she makes it. Sincerely.”

“So you can charge her with two murders? Allika could never hurt anyone.”

“But herself? Look, again, I’m sorry. I’m not saying we’re going to charge her. I’m telling you now, as a favor, that we have to weigh this act in. If and when she’s able to talk, I’m going to have to question her. It’s hard on you, and God knows it’s hard on your kid. I’m trying to give you some time to prepare.”

“Just go. Just go and leave me alone with my family.”

“I’m leaving. I’ll be back if she comes out of it. Oliver…take care of yourself and your daughter. The kid’s been through more than any kid should have to handle.”

Rayleen kept her eyes closed as she felt her father sit down beside her. As he gently, gently stroked her hair. And she kept them closed when she heard him begin to quietly weep.

She wondered how long she’d have to wait to get pizza and a fizzy.

Eve pulled her communicator out as she headed down. It signaled in her hand before she could use it to tag Peabody.

“Dallas.”

“You clear?” Peabody asked.

“Yeah, heading out. Allika’s critical, on life support. Chances slim. I got a guard on her door and another with med training inside her room. Louise was on.”

“Handy.”

“Yeah. I heard her tell Straffo he should spend as much time as possible in her room with her, talking to her, telling her to fight. Might help. Who the hell knows? The kid’s playing it out perfectly, but she didn’t stump Mira, not this time. So we’re getting some weight.”

“We’ve got more. I found the diary.”

Eve had to stop herself from doing a victory dance as she pushed out the hospital doors. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

“You’re damn straight. Took freaking hours.”

“Where?”

“In the kitchen recycler. I went over every damn inch of this place, kept the uniforms on to help. Why the hell didn’t I think of the recycler first?”

“How much is left?”

“All, I’d say, as it’s inside a fancy metal box embossed with her name. I can tell there’s a book inside it-the weight, and it thumps around when I shake it. Only went through one cycle, I think. Banged up. Locked tight, too. Lock’s too small for a master, and it’s caved in. Probably have to cut through it.”

“I’m swinging by to get it. Roarke will beat the lock.”

“Mag. I’ll touch on McNab, tell him to put Valentine’s on hold.”

“No.” Eve climbed into her vehicle. “It’s going to take time to put all this together. Fucking tricky business. I’ll take the diary, log it in and out of evidence.”

“Already logged it in by remote.”

“Even better. For now, you go home, have a drink, have sex with McNab if you must.”

“I must,” Peabody concurred. “I must.”

“Be sure to block video if I tag you later. I don’t wish to be struck blind. We’re going to put this together, and we’re going to lock it down.”

She clicked off. “Rayleen, you little shitbag,” she mumbled. “I got you.”

While Eve drove, contacting both Whitney and Mira to update, Roarke selected the champagne he wanted for dinner.

He’d worked most of the day, and very soon, he hoped, both he and Eve would put their responsibilities aside. And just enjoy each other.

He knew she’d be pleased, and get a good laugh out of his choice for the meal. For their intimate, at-home dinner for two, he’d chosen pepperoni pizza. A personal favorite of hers.

He’d also selected what could loosely be called lingerie for her dinner attire. She’d laugh at that, too. And he would certainly enjoy seeing his wife in the red silk chemise trimmed with white ermine.

As she hadn’t contacted him to tell him she’d gotten hung up, he thought the chances were good they’d make that dinner at eight. He’d decided they’d dine in Prague, courtesy of the holo-room. The romantic architecture, a thickly falling snow outside the windows, Gypsy violins singing in the air.

A bit over the top, he supposed, but why the hell not?

“Roarke.”

“Hmm.” He acknowledged Summerset as he completed his selections, set the programming.

“Magdelana is at the gate.”

“She’s what?”

“At the gate,” Summerset repeated. “Asking to come in, a bit tearfully. She claims she must speak with you, even for just a moment. Should I tell her you’re unavailable?”

That would be the easy way, Roarke supposed, and damned if he wasn’t tempted to take it easy. But if he didn’t deal with this now, he’d just have to deal with it later. And he could admit to a certain curiosity. Just how would Maggie explain herself this time?

“No, let her in. Show her into the parlor. I’ll deal with her.”

“The lieutenant should, I believe, be home within the hour.”

“Yes, so make it quick. Let’s move this business along and be done with it.”

Troublemaker, Roarke thought as Summerset went to give Magdelana access. He’d always known she was one, and had, in fact, found that attractive. But he hadn’t seen, not clearly, just how deep the penchant for stirring up the pot went in her.

He knew how to handle troublemakers. Once he had, she’d go off, understanding him perfectly. And that would most definitely be that.

He took his time going down. Do her good to cool her heels, he thought. And Summerset would make certain she didn’t palm any of the silver.

As he expected, Summerset remained in the parlor, and had given Magdelana, who looked pale and delicate in ivory satin, a glass of wine.

She stood by the fire, at the optimum distance, the perfect angle for the flames to sprinkle light over her skin, to glow light through the satin.

Setting the stage had always been a skill of hers. Only this time he’d been the mark. And as far as she was concerned, he still was.

“Roarke.” She lowered her head, as if in shame. But not before the thinnest sheen of tears sparkled over her eyes. “Oh, Roarke, can you ever forgive me?”

“You’ll excuse me?” he said to Summerset.

As Summerset left the room, she set down the wine with the slightest tremor in her hand. “I feel absolutely dreadful about this. I just…Roarke, I’ve been out of town for the last two days, only just got back. But I heard-and saw. I tried to contact you before I left, as soon as I…But-”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Avoiding me,” she said with those tears in her voice. “I wasn’t sure you’d see me at all. Damn paparazzi. They should all be hanged.”

“Even they have to make a living.”

“But to imply something so completely innocent was…was something illicit. We should sue them. But, of course, that only makes it worse. I know, I know.” She lifted a hand, waved it distractedly. “I can’t imagine how upset you are. And your wife. Is she very angry?”

He angled his head. “What do you suppose?”

“In her place, I’d be furious! They made it look as if we were…We were only saying good-bye. You and I know, Roarke, we were only saying good-bye.”

“We do yes, and we were.”

“Perhaps if I tried to explain to her. Is she here? I could try-”

“You’d already know she isn’t here.”

Magdelana closed her swimming eyes. Regroup, he thought. Reconfigure.

“All right, yes. I admit it. I wanted to speak to you alone first, so I called downtown. They said she was in the field, so I came right over. God, I’m such a coward.” She touched her fingers to her lips. “But if it would help, even a little, I’d try to explain to her.”

“I think not. She’s perfectly aware of the circumstances.”

“Oh. Good. Good. What a relief.”

“Perfectly aware that you set it up, that you staged it, and paid the camera to get the vid out.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. That’s…Roarke.” She said his name with a soupçon of injured feeling, just the right addition to shock. “How could you possibly think I’d do something like that? I understand you’re angry and upset-so am I-but to accuse me of deliberately trying to hurt you and your wife. For what purpose?”

It was hardly a wonder they’d done so well, professionally speaking, in the months they’d worked together. She was brilliant. “I’d say the amusement would be quite enough for you.”

“That’s a despicable thing to say to me.” She picked up the wine again. “Absolutely despicable.”

“Do you think I can’t track down the camera, that I can’t bribe well enough to learn all the details? You underestimate me, Maggie.”

She carried her wine to the window, stood with her back to him. “No. No,” she said quietly. “I could never underestimate you. Maybe I wanted you to know. Knew you would, in the end. It’s you who underestimate me, Roarke, my feelings for you. My regret.” And looked over her shoulder. “My desire. I admit it. I’m not proud of what I did, but I won’t be ashamed either. I did what I thought I needed to do. I’d have done anything to get you back. Nothing else matters to me. Only being with you again.”

He waited a beat. “Bollocks.”

“How can you mock my feelings?” She threw the wine down, shattering the glass. “How dare you when I stand here, stripped bare?”

“I’m not mocking them, I’m clearly saying you haven’t any feelings. You never did, for me or for anyone but yourself.” He let out a half-laugh. “Took me longer to get to that than it should have.”

Then even that half-laugh was gone, and he was ice. “You came here, to New York, to test the waters. I have a great deal more than I once had, and you hoped for a piece of it. She saw through you, you know. The first look.”

Magdelana tossed her head, strode toward him. “And from the first look at you again, I saw she had you under her thumb. How that made me laugh! The rich and powerful Roarke, tamed and trained by a skinny cop with no style or beauty.”

“Odd. From where I’m standing, she has more style, more beauty, and-Christ knows-more class than you can ever claim.”

He didn’t so much as flinch when she slapped him. “You won’t want to do that again,” he said, softly enough to have her lower her hand.

“Roarke-”

“It’s you who wanted to put a leash on me, Maggie, who thought she could just by snapping fingers. And when I didn’t go to heel you did what you could to cause trouble for me and my marriage, to hurt my wife.”

“So what if I did? It’s just a game. You used to have a sense of humor, but apparently she’s whipped that out of you, too.”

“You’ll never understand her, or me. You’ll never understand what we have. More pity for you, you’ll never have it. You’re not capable. So here’s how this plays now. Listen carefully: You’ll never step foot in my home again, or in any of my other properties or businesses-which includes every hotel, transportation system, shop, restaurant, and so forth that I own or have majority interest in. There are quite a number of them.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. You can’t block me from-”

“I can,” he corrected, so coolly her color ebbed. “I will. You’re going to leave New York, and in fact, the country, within three hours.”

“You can’t control the whole damn country,” she shot back.

“Actually, I’d give that a good try, if only to watch you sweat. But, I don’t need to. If you’re not gone, well gone, within those three hours beginning…” He checked his wrist unit. “…now, Interpol and Global will receive some very interesting and very detailed information on you.”

This time, she went dead white. “You’d betray me that way?”

“Again, listen carefully. I’d crush you like a bug for causing my wife one single moment of pain. Believe it. Fear it.”

“If you tried anything like that, I’d take you down with me.”

This time he smiled. “You could try. I’m so much more than you, you’d never pull it off. And Maggie, you’d find the accommodations in prison very limiting, and not at all to your taste.”

He saw her lips tremble before she managed to firm them. He saw her absorb the shock of the truth. The she shrugged, carelessly. “I don’t need you. I never did.” She strolled away, circling the room. “I only thought we might have some fun together, but obviously you don’t know how to play anymore.”

“The clock’s ticking,” he warned her.

She whirled around. “I prefer Europe any way. New York bores me. You bore me.”

She saw the flash of headlights strike the window glass, and changed tack instantly. “Oh, what the hell.” She let out a robust laugh. “You found me out, shut me down. No point in whining about it. Time to cut my losses and move on. Plenty of fish to fry.”

She looked at him, smiled. “I’ll never understand how you could possibly want her and not me.”

“No, you’ll never understand it.”

She stepped forward as if to pick up the fur she’d tossed over a chair. Smoothly, she turned to hand it to him. And with perfect timing, flung herself into his arms.

The sable fell as he took her shoulders to shove her back.

Eve stepped to the doorway to see Magdelana with her arms locked around Roarke’s neck, his hands on her bare shoulders-one of the ivory straps sliding to her elbow.

“Son of a bitch,” she said.

On cue, Magdelana spun around, her face full of passion and shock. “Oh, God. Oh…it’s not what it looks like.”

“Bet.” Eve strode in.

Actually, Roarke thought, it was more of a swagger. He had a moment to admire it, before Eve rammed her fist in his face.

“Fuck me.” His head snapped back, and he tasted blood.

Magdelana cried out, but even the deaf would have caught the suppressed laughter in the sound. “Roarke! Oh, my God, you’rebleeding. Please, let me just-”

“Don’t look now,” Eve said cheerfully. “But he’s not the only one.” She decked Magdelana with a straight-armed jab. “Bitch,” Eve added as Magdelana’s eyes rolled back and she fell, unconscious, to the floor.

Roarke looked down. “Well, now, fuck us all.”

“You’re going to want to get that mess out of my house.” With this, Eve strode out again.

She passed Summerset in the foyer. She assumed the expression on his face was a grin, but couldn’t be absolutely sure. “You’re going to want to be careful-spreading your mouth like that could split your whole face in half.”

“I thought applauding would be a bit inappropriate.”

She snorted, and kept right on going upstairs.

Face throbbing, sensibilities insulted, Roarke stepped over Magdelana. In the foyer, he sent Summerset an icy look. “Take care of that.”

“With absolute pleasure.” Still, Summerset stood another moment, watching Roarke head upstairs after his wife.

He caught up with her in the bedroom. “Damn it all to hell and back again, you know very well that was a setup. You bloody well know I couldn’t put my hands on her.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, sure.” Eve shrugged off her coat, tossed it aside. “I know a setup when I see it, and I know your face, ace. I didn’t see desire on it, I saw annoyance.”

“Is that so? Is that bloody well so? Well, if you knew it was just what it was, why did you sucker punch me?”

“Mostly?” She turned, cocked a hip. “Because you’re a man.”

Eyes narrowed on her face, he tried to stanch the blood with the back of his hand. “And do you have any sort of idea just how often I might expect your fist in my goddamn face because of my bleeding DNA?”

“No, really don’t.” He looked so furious, so incredibly insulted. She wanted to rip off his clothes and bite his ass. “In fact, I think you’ve earned a good whupping.”

“Bugger that. I’ve had about enough of women altogether.” The absurdity of the entire thing began to wind through his temper. “You’re fearsome and irrational creatures.”

She rolled up on the balls of her feet and back again, flexed her knees. “Afraid to take me on? Come on, hotshot, you got punched for being a man. Act like one.”

“It’s a man you want, is it?” He began to circle as she did. “I’m going to take you down.”

“Look how scared I am. I’m shaking.” She feinted with her left, spun, and back-kicked. “Oh, no, that’s suppressed laughter.”

He blocked the kick, then the next with his forearm, forced her to jump over the sweep of his foot. He worked her back toward the bed, and when he’d judged the distance, spun, then flipped her.

She landed on her back on the bed, but when he dived after, she’d rolled off the other side. Crouched into fighting stance.

“Not going to be that easy, ace.”

“Who said I wanted it easy?”

He rolled as well, and she had to give him credit for both speed and agility. She danced back, aimed a jab-blocked-then an elbow jab that connected. She pulled it. After all, she didn’t want him on the disabled list, not with what she had in mind.

But she didn’t mind if he limped a little. Serve him right. She started to bring her heel down on his instep, but he turned into her, knocked her off balance.

Together they rolled down the short steps of the platform and hit the floor with her on top.

“Ready to throw in the towel?” she asked, breathlessly.

“No.” He scissored his legs, trapping hers, and reversed their positions. “You?”

“My ass.” And she ripped his shirt open.

“You’ll have to pay for that.”

“Try to make me.”

He hooked a hand in the collar of her shirt, tore it down the front. On a chain under it, she wore the diamond and the saint’s medal he’d given her. The arms of the shirt hung on her weapon harness.

“Bloody cop,” he muttered, hitting the release.

“Bloody criminal.”

“Former, and no convictions.” He pressed his mouth to hers, swore at the burn in his wounded lip. “You pack a punch, Lieutenant.” He reared up enough to look down at her face-brown eyes full of challenge, wide mouth curved in a smug smile. “You’re my goddamn Valentine.”

She laughed, grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. “You’d better believe it, buster.”

She wanted to devour him, one greedy bite at a time, and let her nails dig a little into his back once she’d torn the tattered shirt away. She’d seen more than annoyance on his face when Magdelana had clung to him.

Eve had seen what she might have missed if she and Roarke had been stupid enough, crazy enough, blind enough to pass each other by.

“I love you.” She closed her teeth over his shoulder, gasped when his scraped down her throat. She hooked her legs around his waist, shoved so that he was under her again. With her mouth like a fever on his, on his flesh.

So it wouldn’t be romantic and dreamy, a snowfall outside the window and gypsy violins singing in the air. It would be desperate, and a little rough. And as real and urgent as their heartbeats.

He felt his survival depended on the taste and texture of her skin. He pulled and dragged at her clothes like a man possessed by demons.

“You’ll give me all of you. All.”

“Take it,” she told him, and was under him again. His mouth ravaged her breast, and his hands…his hands, his hands.

She cried out, rocketing up as the orgasm gathered and flashed through her like a ball of lightning. She heard him murmuring to her, the sound thick and Irish. Felt him quiver as he held himself back.

And that she wouldn’t allow. “You’ll give me all of you,” she said. “All.”

She shattered his will, undid his control, her hands and lips taking him as he’d taken her. Beyond what was reason. Near to delirium, he dragged her mouth back to his, and devoured.

Lips and teeth and tongues, fingers that demanded and took, bruises be damned. Her breath was burning even as she took from him, gave to him. His blood burned under his own skin.

“Now, now, now.” She chanted it, arching up.

When he drove into her, she cried out again, the sound close to a scream. And still her hips pumped fast and strong, whipping him into the glorious dark.

Her hands lost their grip on his hips, slid away to thump against the floor. Inside her body, everything had been pummeled, twisted, wrung out, then smoothed soft again. Her toes wanted to curl in pleasure, but there wasn’t enough energy left for the movement.

“Jesus,” she managed. “Holy dancing Jesus.”

“When I can actually stand up again, some time in the distant future, I’m going to let you punch me in the face again, so we can see if all that finishes up the same way as this.”

“Okay.”

“Or maybe we’ll try that romantic dinner. Then you can punch me.” He actually felt her wince. “Problem?” He lifted his head, saw by her face there was. “What?”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I think, considering our current positions, and state of being, apologies are unnecessary.” But he read the look. “Not sorry for the punch, I see. It’s work?”

“I didn’t contact you to tell you to hold dinner, because I wanted to tell you face-to-face. Which we now are, in addition to other body parts. It’s a lot to explain, but I will. I’ve got something I need to deal with, and I could use your help with it.”

“All right.”

“Maybe we could fit in the candlelight and so on before midnight, but-”

“It doesn’t matter, Eve. I promise you.”

Yeah, we got lucky, she thought. God, didn’t they just. “I got you a present.”

“Did you?”

“It’s a book of poetry-romancy stuff. I thought, ‘How schmaltzy is that,’ so it seemed like the thing. Then I screwed up and left it in my desk at work.”

He smiled, leaned down to kiss her softly. “Thank you.”

She touched his cheek. “I’ve got to grab a shower and get to this. I planned to dig straight in, so we could maybe have a really late dinner, but then I had to punch you and your blonde tart, and one thing led to another.”

“Of course. Well, we’ll have a shower and you can fill me in.”

He listened, saying little as she ran it through for him. “So,” he said, as she pulled on loose flannel pants and a sweatshirt. “You were right about the girl.”

“That’s no girl, but yeah, I was right. The diary’s going to be one of the nails. I could have it cut open-the box, it’s in-”

“I can promise that’s not necessary.”

“Let’s take it in my office.” She hauled up a field bag. “I want it all on record. So maybe you could fumble just a little with the lock.”

“I certainly will not.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I’d like to explain what Magdelana was doing here.”

She slanted him a look. “Other than trying to lock lips with you?”

“More specifically,” he said carefully as they started out of the bedroom, “why I allowed her in our home.”

“I already got that. You needed to deal with it, with her. Needed to spell it out for her, give her the get lost, and put some of the fear of Roarke in her.”

“How fortunate I am, under the circumstances, to have a woman who understands me. Fear of Roarke?” he repeated.

“You can do the fear of God thing, but see, you can’t see Him, and most people feel He’s not going to really-what is it-smite them. You, however, are flesh and blood, and would do a lot worse than a smite. You’re a lot scarier than God.”

“I don’t know quite how to take that,” he said after a moment. “But meanwhile, do you want to know how this was handled?”

“Yeah, actually, I would.”

He told her while they made their way to her office, while she set down her bag, took out the diary. While she simply stood, staring at him.

“See? See? Holy crap. God wouldn’t have made her insides quiver like that, and you can bet your fine Irish ass they quivered like jelly. Can you really ban her from all your stuff? That’s like eighty percent of the known universe.”

“You exaggerate, it wouldn’t be more than fifty, and, oh, aye.” His grin was fast and fierce. “I bloody well can.”

“And you’ve got data on her that would interest the international authorities?”

“What do you take me for? Of course I do.” He waited a moment, reading her face perfectly. “I’m not giving it to you, Eve. Two reasons.”

“They’d better be good ones.”

“First, it’s not your concern, and don’t even think about raising that fist to me. This is my doing, her coming here, her causing trouble. Second, it’ll keep her up at night, for some time to come, wondering what I have, and what I might do with it. She’ll be looking over her shoulder a long time.”

“I think your first reason’s crap, but the second is really mean, really insidious. I like it a lot, so we’ll call it a wash.”

“Good. Well, I’ll open that for you, shall I, and we’ll have our Valentine’s dinner while we see what’s inside.”

“Um…”

“It’s pizza. It was to be pizza and champagne actually.”

“Seriously?”

“I know my wife as she knows me.” He tapped a finger on her nose. “So it’ll be pepperoni pizza and coffee-with the champagne for another time.”

“You know, you really are my Valentine.”