Conspiracy in Death (In Death #8)(81)

She whirled back to him. "You want to close your case, Baxter, then look at the one I had to leave behind and find the link. There's a goddamn link, and Bowers was nothing more than a handy tool, easily disposed of. She meant nothing to me," she said, and for the first time, there was some pity in her voice. "She meant less to whoever had her killed. I was the target."

"The investigation is ongoing," Baxter reminded her. "Feeney's got your load."

"Yeah." Considering, she nodded slowly. "They miscalculated there."

The rest was form, and they both knew it. Standard questions with standard responses. She agreed to make herself available for truth testing the following afternoon. When Baxter left, she put the unpleasantness of that upcoming event out of her mind.

"You handled that very well," Roarke commented.

"He went easy on me. His heart wasn't in it."

"Perhaps I should have apologized for punching him." Roarke smiled. "But my heart wouldn't have been in it."

She laughed a little. "He's a good cop. I need good cops right now." And thinking of them, she engaged the 'link and put a transmission through to Peabody's personal porta-link.

"Dallas." Peabody's square face glowed with relief, then immediately a cloud of concern and guilt darkened her eyes. "You okay?"

"I've been better. Does your schedule allow for a meal today, Peabody?"

"A meal?"

"That's right. This is a personal call on your personal unit." Eve spoke carefully, trusting Peabody to read between the lines. "And a request, if time and inclination permit, for you to join me at home for a meal. You're free to bring a couple of dates. If you can't fit this in, I understand."

Barely three seconds passed. "It so happens I'm hungry right now. I'll just round up my dates. We'll be there in less than an hour."

"It'll be good to see you."

"Same goes," Peabody murmured and broke transmission.

After a moment's hesitation, Eve turned to Roarke. "I need data, as much as I can get, on Bowers: her personal info, all job records, and reports. I need to access Baxter's case files and bring up all he has so far on her murder. I need the ME's findings, the sweepers' reports, any and all interview records pertaining."

While Roarke watched, she strode around the room. "They wiped my case log at Central and here. I want that data back, and whatever Feeney's gathered since I got kicked. I don't want to ask him to copy it to me. He would, and I'm already going to ask him for more than I have a right to. I need everything I can dig on Westley Friend's suicide and who his closest associates were at the time of his death."

"It so happens I already have that information, or most of it, for you." Roarke grinned at her when she turned around and stared at him. "Welcome back, Lieutenant." He held out a hand to her. "You've been missed."

"It's good to be back." She went to him, took his hand. "Roarke, however this turns out, the department may consider it more efficient damage control to... they may not reinstate me."

His eyes on hers, he brushed his fingers through her hair, rubbed them firm and steady over the tension at the base of her neck. "That would be their very great loss."

"Whatever happens, I have to do this. I have to finish what I started. I can't walk away from the faces I see in my sleep. I can't turn my back on the job that saved me. If, after it's done, it's still over for me..."

"Don't think that way."

"I have to prepare for it." Her eyes were dark and steady, but he could see fear riding in them. "I want you to know I'll get through it. I won't fall apart on you again."

"Eve." He cupped her face in his hands. "We'll make this right. Trust me."

"I am trusting you. For God's sake, Roarke, I'm going rogue. And I'm taking you with me."

He laid his lips firmly on hers. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You'll probably enjoy the hell out of this," she muttered. "Okay, we'd better get started. Can you do something to the computer in my office to confuse CompuGuard?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" With a laugh, he slid an arm around her waist and started toward the connecting doors.

It took him under ten minutes. She tried not to be impressed, but the simple fact was, it baffled her just how quickly those clever fingers of his could seduce electronics and make them hum.

"You're clean and clear," he told her.

"You're sure CompuGuard won't click to it when I run NYPSD data on here?"

"If you're going to insult me, I'll just go play with my own toys and leave you alone."

"Don't be so sensitive. I could do a lot of time in a cage for this, you know."

"I'd visit you every week."

"Yeah, from the cage next door." When he only grinned at that, she shifted close. "How do I access the data?" she began, only to have him slap her hand away before she could touch the keyboard.

"Please, you're such an amateur." He danced his fingers over the keyboard. The machine hummed cooperatively, lights blinking. When a husky female computer-animated voice announced, "Transfer complete," Eve raised her eyebrows.