Conspiracy in Death (In Death #8)(111)

"We'll put it in overnight now." He laid his hands on her shoulders, massaged the tension and fatigue. "I know it's hard not being there at the end of it. You can comfort yourself knowing there wouldn't be an end in a couple of days unless you'd found the answers. You're a hell of a cop, Eve."

"I was."

"Are. Your test results and Mira's evaluation will put you back where you belong. On the other side of the line." He leaned down, kissed her. "I'll miss you."

It made her smile. "You manage to wiggle in, whichever side of the line I'm on. Let's get this data on its way. Then we'll watch the cleanup on-screen in a day or two, like normal citizens."

"Wear your coat this time."

"My coat's trash," she reminded him as they came down the stairs.

"You have another." He opened a door, took out a long sweep of bronze cashmere. "It's too cold for your jacket."

Eyeing him, she fingered the sleeve. "What, do you have some droids in a room somewhere manufacturing these?"

"In a manner of speaking. Gloves in the pocket," he reminded her and shrugged on his own coat.

She had to admit, it was nice to be wrapped in something warm and soft against the bitter air."Once we dump this data, let's come back, get naked, and crawl all over each other."

"Sounds like a plan."

"And tomorrow, you go back to work and stop hovering."

"I don't believe I've been hovering. I believe I've been playing Nick to your Nora, and quite well."

"Nick who?"

"Charles, darling. We're going to have to spend time educating you in the entertainment value of classic early-twentieth-century cinema."

"I don't know where you find time for that stuff. It must be because you don't sleep like a regular human being. You're out there piling up billions and buying small worlds and -- which reminds me, we need to discuss this idiotic idea of yours about stuffing money in some account for me. I want you to take it back."

"All five million plus, or less the half million you're donating to the Canal Street Clinic?"

"Don't get smart with me, pal. I married you for your body, not your bucks."

"Darling Eve, that's so touching. And all the while I thought it was my coffee connection."

Love could swamp her at the oddest times, she realized. "That didn't hurt. Tomorrow, you do whatever it is you do to zap it back out and close it down. And next time you... Louise. Oh Christ. Head to the Drake! Head there now! Damn it, how did this slip by us?"

He punched up speed, clipped the curb at the corner. "You think they'll go after her?"

"They took out Jan. They can't let Louise talk." Ignoring jams and privacy, she used the car 'link and tagged Feeney on his communicator.

"Get to the Drake," she told him. "Get to Louise. I'm on my way, ETA five minutes. They'll go for her, Feeney. They've got to go for her. She had data."

"We'll head out. She's under guard, Dallas."

"It won't matter. The uniform won't question a doctor. Contact him, Feeney, tell him not to let anyone in that room."

"Confirmed. Our ETA fifteen minutes."

"We'll be there in two," Roarke promised her as he flew across town. "Waverly?"

"Current president of AMA, chief of surgery, organ specialist, board member. Affiliated with several top-level centers worldwide." She slapped a hand on the dash to keep her balance when he swung into the garage. "Cagney -- he's her uncle, but he's chief of staff, chairman, and one of the most respected surgeons in the country. Hans Vanderhaven, international connections. God knows where he is right now. If not them, there are others who can walk right in and get to her without anyone blinking twice. There must be a dozen ways to off a patient, then cover the tracks."

She sprang out of the car, raced for the elevator. "They don't know she's talked to me. She's smart enough to keep that to herself, maybe to play dumb if anybody tries to pump her. But they might have gotten something out of Jan before they killed her. They've got to know by now she has data on the calls, asked questions, made accusations."

She watched the numbers light above the door, willed them to hurry.

"They'd wait until the floor was quiet, until the change of shifts, most likely."

"We won't be too late," she promised herself, and sprang out of the elevator the moment the doors opened.

"Miss!" A nurse came scrambling around the desk as Eve rushed by. "Miss, you're required to check in at the desk. You're not authorized." Racing after them, she dragged out her beeper and called security.

"Where's the uniform assigned to this door?" Eve demanded, shoving and finding the door itself secured.

"I don't know." Grim-faced, the nurse moved over to block them from the door. "This is a family or authorized personnel only area."

"Unlock this door."

"I will not. I've called security. The patient in this room is not to be disturbed as per doctor's orders. I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Go ahead and ask." Rearing back, Eve broke the door open with two vicious kicks. Her clutch piece seemed to leap into her hand as she ran through. "Oh God, goddamn."