Reunion in Death

*** CHAPTER 8 ***

Before she could respond, Mira rushed in and Eve experienced yet another shock at seeing the consistently elegant Mira in an oversized white T-shirt and black skin-pants. Her feet were bare, the nails painted a pretty candy pink.

«Dennis? Who did you say … Why, Eve.»

«I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. I was on my way home, and I… I apologize for disturbing you at home. I'll just, ah, contact your office in the morning.»

It was rare, Mira thought, to see Eve flustered. «We're not the least disturbed. Are we having wine, Dennis?»

«Are we?» He looked baffled again, then stared down at the bottle in his hand. «Oh. Yes, we are. I'll get another glass.»

«No, please. Don't bother. I shouldn't be here. I should go.»

«Don't be silly.» Mira smiled at her. «Sit down. If you're on duty, we can offer you something soft rather than wine.»

«No, I'm off, but-«

«Good.» She crossed the room, pausing to rebutton her husband's cardigan with such simple intimacy that it made Eve feel more like an intruder than if they'd exchanged a wet, sloppy kiss. Mira chose another glass herself from a display cabinet, then simply laid a hand on Eve's shoulder to nudge her into a chair.

So Eve found herself sitting in Mira's pretty, colorful living room accepting a glass of wine.

«How was your vacation?» Mira began.

«Good. It was good.»

«You look rested.»

«Yeah, well, I played slug half the time.»

«You needed it. Both you and Roarke. He's well, I trust.»

«Yes.» Eve shifted in her chair. «He's okay.» And she meant to keep him that way.

Mira sipped wine, inclined her head toward her husband. «I often discuss aspects of cases with Dennis, but if you'd prefer we can talk upstairs in my office.»

«No, I don't want to muck up your home time. I've got no right bringing a case into your living room. Anyway, you haven't had time to read through the data.»

«But I have.»

«What do you-« Eve cut herself off. «Then I'll call your office in the morning and make an appointment.»

«Relax, Eve. We'll talk now. You wouldn't have come by this way if it wasn't important. And I'm pleased you felt comfortable enough, even momentarily, to do so. There was a time, not so long ago, you wouldn't have considered it.»

«I've always respected your abilities, Dr. Mira.»

«Respect and comfort are different matters. You're here about Julianna Dunne.»

«Evil,» Dennis Mira said to no one in particular, «comes in all forms, and often alluring ones.» He turned suddenly clear, suddenly intense eyes on Eve. «Do you believe in evil?»

«Yes.»

«Good. You can't stop it if you don't believe in it.»

«Dennis is skilled at fining down a point to its most elemental level. It's helpful to me.»

Mira sipped her wine again, then set it aside on a little round table before she continued. «Julianna Dunne was thoroughly tested, evaluated, examined before and during her trial. The opinion of the experts called in for these purposes was that the subject had suffered the trauma of sexual abuse by a family member, which had damaged her both mentally and emotionally. In this diminished capacity, she, as an adult, sought out other men who represented her abuser. She then punished this representative as she had been unable to punish the man who had harmed her.»

She paused to tuck her pretty, shapely legs under her. «With the cold calculation of the murders and her profit from them, the defense was unable to negotiate a term in a mental health center, nor could they convince a jury that the subject was innocent, completely innocent, due to this diminished capacity. They were, however, able to keep their client out of a life sentence.»

«I'd prefer your take on her to the initial profiler.»

«Then here it is. In my opinion, given the data, the experts were incorrect in their evaluations and conclusions. Julianna Dunne wasn't operating under diminished capacity, not in any legal sense. She played the game perfectly,» Mira continued. «Her answers were exactly right, as were her reactions, her gestures, her tone. And that was her mistake, one those who worked with her overlooked. That sort of perfection has to be calculated. She's a liar, but she's an excellent one.»

«She was never raped as a teenager.» Eve leaned forward, «She's not haunted, or hunted. There's no pain, no fear, no rage inside her.»

Mira reached out, closed her hand over Eve's briefly. She knew they couldn't speak of Eve's childhood with Dennis in the room. «My opinion is, and I would have to test her personally to be certain, that the sexual relationship was consensual. To Julianna, sex is a weapon. Man is the enemy. It's unlikely she enjoys the sexual experience. It's a job, a means to an end. And the man's enjoyment of it, of her body, a matter of both pride and disgust.»

«Why didn't she turn to women, sexually?»

«She has more respect for them, as a species. And again, sex isn't an interest. She doesn't look for pleasure there. Her pleasure comes from causing pain, humiliation, from conquering and gathering the spoils.»

«If I may.» Dennis spread his hands, catching Eve's attention. He'd been so quiet and still, she'd all but forgotten him. «Men aren't opponents,» he said. «They're victims. She needs victims in order to thrive.»

«She sets out to attract them,» Eve agreed. «The way you would some sort of prey. She becomes what attracts them, sliding into a personality like you might a new suit. An older man, one who has grown tired or dissatisfied or just bored with his wife, his family, his sex life is the perfect target. More easily attracted to beauty, more easily duped.»

«A man of a certain age is bound to be flattered by the romantic attentions of a younger and beautiful woman. Each gender has its weak points.»

«She practiced on her stepfather. She did the seducing there,» Eve stated. «Sharpening her skills. He didn't testify at her trial. Prosecution couldn't take the chance of calling him, letting the jury see him. But the defense should have trotted him out. Look here, this man forced himself on this poor, innocent young girl. She was helpless, trapped. He was her father, she should have been safe with him. Instead he took her innocence, left her damaged. If anyone's responsible for the deaths, he is.»

«She couldn't afford to let them call him in, under oath,» Mira said. «And there she'd have dug in her heels. You'll want to talk to him yourself.»

«He's in Texas. In Dallas.»

«Yes, I know.» Mira eyes spoke a million words. «I saw the data. Can you go?»

Not will you, Eve thought. Can you. «I don't know. I don't know,» she repeated.

Mira reached out, touched her husband's hand. «Dennis» was all she said, and he unfolded the gangly length of him and got to his feet.

«If you ladies will excuse me, I've got something or other to do. You were right about her, Charlie.» He leaned over to touch his lips to the top of Mira's head, then stroked a long, narrow hand over the sweep of her glossy brown hair. «But then, you always are. Nice seeing you, Eve. Don't be a stranger.»

«You didn't have to send him away,» Eve said when he wandered out of the room. «This isn't about me.»

«Look at me. Look at me, Eve.» Mira set down her glass, gripped one of Eve's hands in both of hers. «If you're not ready to go back to Dallas, send for him. Have him come here.»

«I've got no cause and no authority to bring Jake Parker to New York.»

«Then do the interview via 'link or holographies.»

«You know it has to be done face-to-face if I'm going to push him to tell me what happened, how it happened, what she did, who she was. He's not going to want to go there. There's also a possibility from data I gathered today that he may be a target. I have to go, and I don't know if I can handle it.»

«I'll go with you.»

For a moment Eve could only stare, and as she stared her vision blurred. She had to stand up, turn away. «Jesus.»

«I can help you, Eve. I want to. For a long time you wouldn't let me get close; you resented me. But that's changed.»

«I didn't resent you. You scared the shit out of me. People who scare me piss me off.»

«I'm glad I don't scare you anymore.»

«Sometimes you do.» She swiped the back of her hand under her nose, then turned back. «I'm not ready, or not willing to take all that was into what's now. It comes in pieces, and the pieces are getting bigger. I don't know what's going to happen to me when the picture's all there. But when I'm ready, I'll come to you. Okay?»

«Yes.»

«Anyway.» She had to take a couple of steadying breaths. «Like I said, this isn't about me. Feeney and I went to Dockport today.»

She sat again, filled Mira in on the rest of the details.

«You think she may target Roarke. I wish I could tell you your instincts are wrong.»

A fist jammed in Eve's throat, another clenched in her gut. «Why would she? He doesn't fit her target profile.»

«Because he's yours. What Dennis said about men not being her opponents is accurate. But women are opponents, companions, tools, competitors. Her feelings toward them would have been enhanced and refined over her time in a women's correctional facility. Of the primary officers who brought about her arrest, you were the only female. The only one she asked to speak with personally. You bested her, and that impressed her. She wanted your respect and you refused to give it. It's logical that given the opportunity, she'd want a rematch, not just because you stopped her, but because you dismissed her. It answers why New York.»

«And why she's still here. I know she's still here. She's cut out a step in her past procedure. She doesn't bother with the affair, the marriage. She won't try to seduce him. But if she is sighting Roarke, she'll be working out a way to get to him.»

She pushed out of the chair again, jammed her hands in her pockets and paced. «Damn it, you know what's going to happen now. I'm going to go home, tell Roarke, demand he increase security and add police protection. He'll balk, tell me he can protect himself. Blah, blah, blah. Then we'll have a fight.» She sighed. «Well, we haven't had a fight in a while. I guess we're due.»

«If you're afraid for him, let him see it.»

«I know he can take care of himself. But it doesn't stop me from worrying about him.»

«I imagine he has the same conflict about you, every time you walk out of the house with that weapon strapped to your side. Whether or not you fight about it, you'll find a way to work through it together. That's marriage.»

«A lot of marriage is a pain in the ass.»

«Oh, it certainly is.»

«You fixed his buttons,» Eve murmured.

«What?»

Surprised she'd spoken aloud, Eve stopped and very nearly flushed. «Nothing.»

«Buttons? What Oh! Dennis's sweater.» Mira pressed a hand to her heart and laughed. «Yes, I suppose I did. He never pays attention to his clothes or to mine, for that matter. It still annoys me when I have a new outfit, look particularly good, and he doesn't see it.»

«I like him.»

«So do I.»

«I'll let you two get back to… things. Tell him thanks for the wine. I appreciate you taking the time like this.»

«You're always welcome here.» She rose to walk Eve out.

«Dr. Mira?»

«Yes?»

«What did your husband mean, that you were right about me?»

«He could have meant any number of things, but under those circumstances, I believe he meant I was right when I described you as brilliant, complicated, and valiant. Now I've embarrassed you.» Gently, Mira touched her lips to Eve's cheek. «Go home and fight with Roarke.»

She didn't want to fight. She just wanted him to fall into line for a change. Since the chances of that were nil, she outlined a couple of approaches on the drive home.

But when she walked into the house, there was a party going on.

She heard music, laughter, voices, and immediately felt her temples throb at the prospect of having to deal with people. Even the sound of her well-loved friend Mavis's wild giggles didn't stop the headache from coming on.

She imagined herself sneaking upstairs like a thief and hiding in a dark room with a locked door.

Valiant, my ass, she thought.

She took one cautious step toward the stairs when Summerset slithered into the foyer and caught her.

«Lieutenant. You have guests.»

«What, am I deaf?»

«Perhaps your hearing is defective as you were going in the opposite direction from the gathering in the parlor.»

«Maybe I was just going upstairs to change or something.» Because she knew it was weak, because he simply stood with that saber-thin sneer on his cadaverous face, she hunched her shoulders. «Oh, bite me,» she muttered and headed into the parlor.

«There she is!» Mavis spun across the room, a little whirlwind with bunches of purple flowers arranged in strategic points over her body. Her hair was moonbeam silver tonight, with more flowers bursting out of it. She gave Eve an enthusiastic hug, then bounced on silver shoes with four-inch flower stalk heels.

«Leonardo and I were heading down to the Down and Dirty for some action, and swung by to see if you and Roarke were up for it. And look who we found.» She spun around to grin at Phoebe and Sam. «I tagged Peabody, and she and McNab are going to meet us at the D and D. Roarke said maybe you wouldn't get home in time, but here you are.»

«Here I am. I've got work, Mavis.»

«Hey, take a couple hours to rock.» She pulled Eve into the room. «Start with my zinger. Leonardo, baby doll, where'd I put my zinger?»

At six and a half feet, the golden skinned love of Mavis's life was nothing like a baby doll. He was bare-chested but for a red satin X across his pecs that seemed to be holding up the fluid, shimmering pants that flowed from his waist to the toes of his red, crisscrossing sandals. Ruby studs forming a chevron at the corner of his left eye winked as he grinned and passed Mavis her glass.

«Good to see you, Dallas.» He bent down, gave her one of his shy, butterfly kisses. «I'll get you a fresh zinger if you want.»

«I'll pass, but thanks.» She shot Roarke a grateful look when he turned down the volume of the music. «Sorry I'm later than I planned,» she told him. «I had a stop to make on the way home.»

«No problem.» He came to her and under the guise of a welcome-home kiss, murmured, «Do you want me to get rid of them?»

She nearly said yes, but it seemed petty and mean. «No. We can take an hour at the D and D if you're up for it.»

He tipped up her chin. «You have something on your mind.»

«It'll keep.»

«And a headache as well.»

«It'll pass.» And there was the possibility, however remote, that a few hours with friends might put him in the mood to cooperate.

«So are we on?» Mavis demanded as she swung by with her zinger.

«Sure. Just give me a minute to go up and take care of some things.»

«Frigid! Roarke?» Mavis tugged on his sleeve as Eve started out. «Can we take the limo? It'd be so totally mag for all of us to pile in and ride down to the D and D in style.»

As the Down and Dirty was a strip joint with as much class as a rabid squirrel, Eve figured they'd be making one hell of a splash arriving in a mile-long limo, with uniformed driver. She had to be grateful the thing was built like an armored tank.

She stripped off her weapon harness, strapped on an ankle holster, checked her smaller, off-duty clutch piece to be certain it was fully charged. For grooming purposes, she dragged her fingers through her hair and considered the job done.

She strode back out of the bedroom, then came up short when she saw Sam standing in the hall. «I didn't want to disturb you,» he began. «But you have a headache. I felt it,» he explained before she could speak. «I can help you with it.»

«It's okay. It's nothing.»

«I hate to see anything in pain.» His expression was soft with compassion. «It'll only take a minute.»

«I don't like doing chemicals,»

Now he smiled. «I don't blame you. I'm a sensitive.» He stepped toward her. «With a touch of the empath. It's here, isn't it?» He skimmed a fingertip down the center of her forehead, but didn't touch her. «And behind your eyes. It'll only get worse if you go out to a noisy club without tending it. I won't hurt you.»

His voice was soothing and compelling. Even as she shook her head, he continued to speak, and drew her gently in.

«It's just a matter of touch, of concentration. Close your eyes, try to relax. Think of something else. You went to Chicago today.»

«Yeah.» Her lids drooped closed as he brushed that fingertip over her brow. «To interview people at the prison.»

«All that violent and conflicting energy. No wonder you have a headache.»

His fingertips fluttered against her closed lids. Warmth. His voice murmured. Comfort. No man had ever offered her both of those things, but for Roarke. She let herself drift; it was almost impossible not to. And the thought passed through her head, the wonder of what it would be like to have a man, a father, give kindness instead of pain.

Sam drew the ache out, into his fingertips, his fingers, into his palm. It throbbed there, dully, pulsed like an echo in his forehead, before he let it spread and dissipate.

As it faded, it felt another, sharper pain. Deeper, it cut fast and violent into his center. With it, he had a flash. And saw into her mind, her thoughts, her memory, before he broke the link and blocked.

«Wow.» She swayed a little from the sudden lack of support, though she hadn't been aware of leaning. She was aware that the headache was gone, and in its place a sensation of calm well-being. «Better than any damn blocker,» she began as she opened hen eyes.

He was staring at her, his face drained of color, full of shock and sorrow. «I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.»

«What? What's wrong? Does that deal make you sick?» She reached out to take his arm, but he gripped her hand. And now his were cold as winter.

«Eve, I never intended such a strong mind. I should've realized. I was focused on relieving the pain. It's necessary to lower the block, very briefly, but I do light healing as a matter of course, and never intrude. I never meant to.»

She stiffened. «What do you mean, intrude?»

«I didn't look, I promise you. It's against everything I believe to look into another person without express invitation. But you opened, and the image was there before I could block it. From your childhood.» He saw from her face she understood him. «I'm so very sorry.»

«You looked in my head?»

«No. But I saw. And seeing, however unintentional, is still a betrayal of trust.»

She felt stripped and raw. Stepped back from him. «That's private.»

«Yes, very private. I don't know what I can do to make this up to you, but-«

«You forget what you saw,» she snapped. «And you don't talk about it. Ever. To anyone.»

«You have my word I won't speak of it. Eve, if you want Phoebe and me to go-«

«I don't give a damn what you do. Just stay out of my head. Stay the hell out of my head.» She strode away, had to force herself not to run. Instead she fought to compose herself before she went back down, into the parlor.

She couldn't think of anything she wanted more now than an hour at the D and D where she could smother out her own thoughts in horrible music played at a level to damage eardrums, to drink bad booze until misery was sunken and drowned.

Duty won out, and she only got half-drunk, which took some work in the single hour she'd allowed herself. She'd avoided Sam, sitting as far away from him as possible on the wild and noisy ride downtown, then making sure she was at the opposite end of the table from him during the stint at the club.

He'd made it easy for her, and kept his distance.

Even when Mavis had insisted everybody dance with everybody else, they'd bypassed each other. But neither that nor the burn of bad brew had improved her mood.

And the mood hadn't been lost on Roarke. He waited until they were home, alone, as the rest of the party had remained downtown. «Are you going to tell me what's wrong?»

«Got a lot on my mind.»

«You often do, but it doesn't encourage you to drink with the express purpose of getting piss-faced.»

«I'm not piss-faced. I stopped halfway.» But her balance wasn't quite what it had been, and she stumbled on the bottom step going upstairs. «Mostly halfway. What's the matter, you've seen me half-drunk before.»

«Not when you have work yet, and not when you're upset.» He took her arm to steady her.

«Back off. I don't need more people poking at my fucking psyche.»

He recognized the combative tone in her voice. He didn't mind a fight. He'd get to the bottom of things quicker that way. «Since you're my wife, I believe I have a legal right to poke at your psyche, among other things.»

«Don't say my wife in that smug-ass tone. You know I hate that.»

«I do, yes, and I so enjoy it. What went on between you and Sam before we left?»

«Get outta my face. I got work.»

«I'm not in your face as yet. What went on?» he repeated, spacing each word carefully just before he pushed her up against the wall. «And now, Lieutenant, I'm in your face.»

«We had a quickie on the bedroom floor. So what?»

«Fast sex doesn't usually make a man look so unhappy. And I happen to know it doesn't make you vile-tempered. But we can check that theory if you like.» He hooked a hand in the waistband of her trousers, yanked, and popped the button.

She pivoted, but her reflexes were off. The elbow jab missed, and she ended up flat against the wall again. «I don't want to be touched right now. I don't want anyone's hands on me. Do you get it?»

He framed her face with them. «What happened?»

«He did some sort of mojo with the headache.» She spat it out. «And while he was in there, he got a look at me. When I was a kid. He saw.»

«Ah, Eve.» He drew her in, kept drawing her in even when she struggled.

«Get off me. Damn it. Damn you.»

«I'll get them a hotel room. I'll get them out tonight.»

«It doesn't matter if you get them a room on the fucking moon. He knows. » Somehow she'd stopped pushing him away and was holding on. «It doesn't matter that he didn't do it on purpose. It doesn't matter that he's sorry.» Feeling more sick than drunk now, she dropped her head on Roarke's shoulder. «He knows, and nothing changes that.»

«Why does it shame you? You were a child. An innocent child. How many innocents have you stood for?» He eased her face up so their eyes met. «And how many more before you're done? Yet there's still a part of you that steps back from yourself, and those who would feel for the child you were.»

«It's my private business.»

«Do you worry he won't honor that?»

«No.» She let out a weary sigh. «No. He gave his word. Guy like that saws his tongue off with a rusty knife before he breaks his word. But he knows, and when he looks at me-«

«He'll see his daughter's friend. An amazing woman. He'll see what you too often forget to see when you look in the mirror. Courage.»

She eased away now. «Lot of people making noises about how brave I am today.»

«Well then, why don't you be brave enough to tell me the rest of it. You already had trouble on your mind when you walked in the door this evening.»

«Yeah, I did. We need to talk, but I have to go throw up first.»

«As long as we have our priorities straight. Come on then.» He slipped an arm around her. «I'll hold your head.»

She sicked up the worst of the booze, downed, without much protest, the mixture Roarke pushed on her when she was finished. She took a blistering shower, dressed in loose pants and a muscle shirt, and felt human again by the time they regrouped in her office. She added one final cure, black coffee, then filled him in on her visit to Dockport.

«You're thinking by Dallas dude, she means me.»

«It's a strong possibility, one I passed by Mira on the way home. She agrees with me. I'm the only woman who had a part in taking her down, and that makes me her competition. No, more like her opposition. She comes back to my turf, kills here, and shows me she's back and ready to rumble. But she takes you out, she beats me. Whatever happens in the battles before or after, she wins the war.»

«A reasonable theory, and an interesting one.» He swirled brandy. Unlike the rest of the group, he hadn't touched a drink at the D and D. «I wonder how she expects to get through my security, to get close enough to me to cause me any harm.»

«Roarke-«

He smiled, leaned in as she had. «Eve.»

«Cut it out. Look, I know you've got ace security, the best money can buy. I know your instincts are better yet. But she's smart, she's thorough, and she's very, very good at what she does.»

«So are you. Which,» he continued, «would add another edge for her. How to kill me when I'm so completely, even intimately protected.»

«You'll add to your security,» she said briskly. «We'll work out the logistics of that, get some input from Feeney. I'll put cops on you, mix some in with your people at your midtown office. I'll need to know your schedule, down to the last detail so I can have men planted wherever you have meetings set up. If you're going out of the city, using any transpo, it needs to be scanned and swept first coming and going.»

He sat back, sipped his brandy. «We both know I'm not going around with cops on my heels.»

«You'd prefer protective custody and me keeping you locked in this house?»

He angled his head. «You know my lawyers will tear any attempt at that into tiny shreds, so let's save both of us the time and trouble.»

«You hard-headed son of a bitch. I'll chew your lawyers up and spit them back out on your thousand-dollar shoes.»

«You can try.»

She sprang to her feet. «I pick up that 'link, I'm getting authorization to lock you up, at a location I see fit, and slap a goddamn bracelet on your wrist until I'm sure your ass is safe.»

He got to his feet as well. «Then I pick up the 'link, make my call, and have a restraining order trumping your bloody authorization before it's printed. I won't be caged, Eve, not by you or anyone. And I won't hide or run, so put your considerable temper and energies into tracking your woman, and I'll see to my own ass very well.»

«It's not just your ass anymore. It belongs to me, too. Goddamn it, I love you.»

«And I love you right back.» As his temper ebbed, he laid his hands on her shoulders. «Eve, I'll have a care. I promise you.»

She shrugged his hands off, paced away. «I knew you wouldn't do it my way.»

«Do you think I'd be where I am if every time there's a threat I bolt into some safe house? I face what comes at me. I deal with it. I deal with it a bit different than I once did.»

«I know. I know you're more savvy about security than anyone, but will you let Feeney look things over?»

«I've no problem with that.»

«I'm asking for you to give me your schedule, where you'll be, when and with who. I won't throw cops at you.» She turned back now. «You'd make them and ditch them anyway. But I'd feel better if I knew.»

«I'll copy you.»

«Okay. I'm going to have to go to Dallas.» She said it very fast, as if the words might burn her tongue. «I'm going to need to talk to the stepfather. I'm not sure when I can manage it, but within the next two days. She'll be moving in on someone else before much longer. He could be a target, too. You know, Texas, cowboys. Maybe that's the sheep angle, too. They've got sheep in Texas, I think. I-«

He'd come to her while she'd rambled, and cut her off by gently taking her arms. «I'll go with you. You won't do this without me.»

«I don't think I could.» She relaxed deliberately, muscle by muscle. «I'm okay. I've got work.»