Obsession in Death(105)

“I’ll take one if you take one.”

“That’s a deal then.” He gave her butt a pat as they walked into her office. “Into the kitchen now, darling, and make us some coffee.”

“You think that’s cute?”

“It’s adorable, at least at this time of night.”

Whatever time it was, there was work. So she made the coffee, and added a handful of her secret stash of cookies.

Roarke’s eyebrows lifted when she brought it all out. “Well now, this must be love. You sharing the biscuits.”

“They’re cookies. Biscuits are hot bread you smother in butter or gravy. Remember which side of the Atlantic you’re on, ace.”

“Whatever they’re called, they’re welcome.” He took one, bit in. “Computer, run first disc.”

Cradling her coffee, Eve watched the UNSUB buzz at Nadine’s exterior door. Head and face averted, but not covered this time. That straggle of hair showing. No audio, so again the voice was lost. No chance of running a voice print.

“Nothing on the clothing. No labels, emblems, logos. But Nadine’s right. Not five-ten. Five-eight’s about right. Knows the building again,” Eve continued. “Knows how to angle herself to keep her face off camera. We’re going to find somebody who saw her in there. Somebody’s going to have seen her.”

“Here come the girls.” Roarke sipped his coffee as he watched them. “And that is what being in hilarity looks like.”

It looked like being piss-faced drunk, Eve thought, the way they leaned into each other, eyes bright, laughing.

“Look at her hands,” Eve said. “Balling into fists. Angry. At the girls? At life? The girls annoy. All that laughing and talking. They infuriated. Jesus, she’s reaching in her pocket. Right pocket. And yeah, her hand’s shaking some.”

“Barely holding on to control.”

The girls clumped toward the opening elevator door. Eve caught Thea glancing back – just a quick swivel.

“Sensitive enough to have felt something dark, something dangerous,” Roarke said. “Relieved to be away from it.”

“She’s trying to relax again. Slowly flexing, unflexing her fingers, breathing in and out, shaking out her arms.”

When she exited the elevator Eve cursed the lack of hall cams. “Run it forward, will you? Let’s see if she shows more when she leaves.”

“Computer, skip feed until subject reappears.”

Subject does not appear in any further elevator feed. Exterior cam only.

“Run it.”

She burst out of the door. Eve saw only the back of her, shoulders hunched, right arm tucked in.

“Run it again, slow it down.”

Top of the head for a second, back for a few more. Shaking, clearly shaking all over and favoring her right arm.

“Nothing much we can use there. Let’s see Jamie’s.”

Roarke cued it up, then grinned like a boy, gestured toward the screen with his coffee. “Look at the resolution there, would you? Like crystal it is, and this from a unit he cobbled together himself.”

“It may be crystal, but she’s still smart enough, still has herself in control enough to keep her face off cam. Damn it. But yeah, yeah, she’s hurt. Nadine did a number on her with a fricking herbal lighter. Maybe a quick stop en route for an ice pack or a blocker, something, because there’s a time lag.”

“She might’ve taken that time to pull herself back together,” Roarke suggested.

“Yeah, just as likely. But she’s still shaking, still running on rage. Freeze it! There, right there, just for a second, she loses it. Master doesn’t work, and she shifts. A lot of shadows on her face, but we’ve got some of it – more than before. Can you clean that up?”

“With a bit of time and effort, yes.”

“Name your price.”

“Well now, I don’t work cheap.” He slid a hand around her waist, danced his fingers up her ribs.

“I’ll give you an IOU.”

“I’ll take it.”

“We’ve got more of her,” Eve noted. “Just a little more. She got sloppy, and we’ve got more.”



She wept, wept and wept. Everything she’d wanted in the world, all her hopes, her dreams, her needs, shattered like glass.

How could it all go so wrong? She’d done everything, been so careful, so patient. So true. And now it was all for nothing.

There was no meaning now, no goal, no joy.

The skin on her wrist and forearm was raw and blistered, and the pain like hot knives cutting.

She could fix it, she knew how to fix it. But what was the point? Her life was over, wasn’t it? Her purpose gone, erased. It had been a false purpose, as the single person she’d depended on was false.

All lies, she thought. Everything a lie.

So she’d end it. No one would care; no one ever had. She had nothing and no one now. She knew how to end it – a dozen ways to die. She had only to pick one and slide away into yet another form of oblivion.

Empty death after an empty life.

She lifted her head, and there was Eve, looking back at her. She could hear the voice – and there was purpose.

Stop sniveling! Act! You know what to do. You’ve always known. All the rest was play. There’s only one way we can really be partners, be friends, be together. Are you strong enough, finally? Or are you still a coward?