Holiday in Death (In Death #7)(68)

“Is it?” He lifted his brows as his sharp eyes scanned her face. Pale, shadowed, running up fast on exhaustion, was his considered opinion. “Then you’re willing to go down to the clinic and take a physical?”

The resentment bounced back, all but vibrating down to the fingers she fought not to curl into fists. “Is that an order, Commander Whitney?”

He could make it so. “I’ll give you a choice, Dallas. Take the physical, abide by the results, or go off duty until oh nine hundred tomorrow.”

“I don’t consider those viable options at this time.”

“One or the other, or I take you off the case.”

She nearly sprang from the chair. He saw her bunch and brace then vibrate. But she stayed in her seat. Color rushed into her face, but it didn’t stay long. “He’s killed four times, and I’m the only one who’s close to knowing him. You take me off, we lose time. And we lose people.”

“It’s your choice, Dallas. Go home,” he said more quietly. “Get a decent meal and some sleep.”

“And while I’m doing that, Rudy walks.”

“I can’t hold him, I can’t bracelet him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t put a tag on him.” Now Whitney smiled a little. “He’ll be watched. And tomorrow, we’ll hold a press conference. You called that right, Dallas. The mayor and the chief will bare the brunt of it, but you’ll get flack.”

“I can handle it.”

“I know. We’ll release as many details as we can to alert the public.” He lifted his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men.” He let out a short laugh. “Go home, Dallas. You’re going to need to be fresh tomorrow.”

She went because the alternatives were unacceptable. She couldn’t back off from the case, and she couldn’t risk a departmental physical. Whatever she said out loud, she had a suspicion she wouldn’t pass one at the moment.

She ached all over, enough to warn her she was going to have to break down and take a painkiller to get through. Worse, she couldn’t quite focus, not now that she was in the car and heading home. Her head insisted on floating somewhere inches above her shoulders.

When she nearly clipped a glide-cart while making the turn onto Madison, she shifted into auto and let the program guide her through traffic.

Okay, so maybe she needed a nap and a little fuel. But being off duty didn’t mean she couldn’t run some more scans and searches; it didn’t mean she couldn’t work on her own from her home office.

She needed more coffee and something solid in her stomach, that was all.

And she nearly nodded off as the car slid through the gates and up the drive toward the house.

The lights in the windows blazed against the dark and made her eyes smart. Her head pounded like the back beat in one of Mavis’s more enthusiastic numbers. Her shoulder thrummed.

When she stepped out of the car, her legs felt rubbery and disconnected. Because she felt weak, her mood was foul as she pushed through the grand front door.

And there was Summerset.

“Your guests have already arrived,” he announced. “You were expected twenty minutes ago.”

“Kiss my ass” was her best suggestion as she stripped off her jacket and deliberately dropped it over the newel post.

“The prospect holds no appeal for me. One moment of your time, however, Lieutenant.” He simply stepped in front of her before she could head up the stairs.

“Life’s too short to spend a moment with you. Out of the way or I’ll take you out.”

She looked ill, he thought, and her threat lacked its usual bite. “The book you requested for Roarke has been located,” he said stiffly, but his eyes were narrowed as he studied her face.

“Oh.” She braced a hand on the newel post as she tried to get through the fog in her brain to think. “Fine. Good.”

“Shall I order it to be shipped?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s the idea.”

“You’ll need to transfer the price, plus shipping, to the book searcher’s account. As the book searcher knows me, he’s agreed to send the item immediately and trust that you’ll transfer the appropriate funds within twenty-four hours. I noted the details on your E-mail.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll take care of it.” She had to swallow pride. “Thank you.” And she turned toward the stairs. Looked up. She thought it would be like climbing a mountain, but she couldn’t swallow another gulp of pride and take the elevator while he was watching.

“You’re quite welcome,” he murmured, then stepped away to the in-house screen while she moved up the steps. “Roarke, the lieutenant is home and on her way up.” He hesitated, then sighed. “She looks unwell.”

She was going to take a hot shower, fuel up, and get to work. Eve calculated she could at least run a probability scan on Rudy with the data she had. If it clicked, she might be able to pressure the PA into slapping a surveillance bracelet on him.

But when she stepped into the bedroom, Roarke was already waiting.

“You’re late.”

“I hit traffic,” she said as she unhooked her weapon harness.

“Strip.”

She knew she was punchy, but. she was pretty sure this was a first. “Well, that’s real romantic, Roarke, but — “