Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(29)

“Cooperation is the glue of life,” he said as the panel slid shut behind them.

“Weird-o,” Feeney decided.

“An efficient one. You know, Mavis could have gotten into a tussle while she was club hopping. She could have gotten her face scratched, her clothes torn.”

“Yeah.” Determined to eat, Feeney stopped at an order table and requested a Jagger to go. “You ought to put something in your system, Dallas, besides worry and work.”

“I’m fine. I’m not much on the club scene, but if she had it in the back of her mind to go see Leonardo, she’d have walked south and east from here. Let’s check out what her most likely stop would have been.”

“Fine. Just hold on.” He made her wait until his takeout slid through the serving slot. He had the clear wrap off and the first bite in by the time they got to the car. “Damn good stuff. Always did like Jagger.”

“Hell of a way to live forever.” She started to request a map when her car ‘link beeped, signaling incoming transmission. “Lab report,” she murmured and focused on the screen. “Oh, goddamn it.”

“Hell, Dallas, this is a mess.” Appetite gone, Feeney stuffed the sandwich in his pocket. Both of them fell into silence.

The report was very clear. It was Mavis’s skin, and only Mavis’s, under the victim’s nails. Mavis’s prints, and only Mavis’s, on the murder weapon. And it was her blood, and only hers, mixed with the victim’s on scene.

The ‘link beeped again, and this time a face appeared on screen. “Prosecuting Attorney Jonathan Heartly, Lieutenant Dallas.”

” Acknowledged.”

“We’re issuing an arrest warrant for Freestone, Mavis, charge of murder, second degree. Please hold for transmission.”

“Didn’t waste any time,” Feeney grumbled.

CHAPTER SEVEN

She wanted to do it alone. Had to do it alone. She could count on Feeney to work on ferreting out any details that might weaken the case against Mavis. But the job had to be done, and she had to do it herself.

Still, she was glad when Roarke opened the door.

“I can see it in your face.” And he took her face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Eve.”

“I have a warrant. I have to take her in, book her. There’s nothing else I can do.”

“I know. Come here.” He gathered her close, held her as she burrowed her face in his shoulder. “We’ll find the piece of this that clears her, Eve.”

“Nothing I’ve found, nothing, Roarke, helps her. Everything makes it worse. The evidence, it’s all there. The motive’s there, the timing.” She drew back. “If I didn’t know her, I wouldn’t have a doubt.”

“But you do know her.”

“She’s going to be scared.” Frightened herself, Eve looked up the stairs, toward where Mavis would be waiting. “The PA’s office told me they wouldn’t block bail, but still, she’s going to need… Roarke, I hate to ask you — “

“You don’t have to. I’ve already contacted the best criminal defense team in the country.”

“I can’t pay you back for that.”

“Eve — “

“I don’t mean the money.” She took a shuddering breath and gripped both of his hands. “You don’t really know her, but you believe in her because I do. That’s what I can’t pay you back for. I have to go get her.”

“You want to do it alone.” He understood, and had already convinced himself not to argue the point. “I’ll alert her lawyers. What are the charges?”

“Murder two. I’ll have to deal with the media. It’s certainly going to leak that Mavis and I have history.” She pulled her hands through her disordered hair. “That may bleed over onto you.”

“Do you think that worries me?”

She nearly smiled. “No, I guess not. This may take awhile. I’ll bring her back as soon as I can.”

“Eve,” he murmured as she started up the stairs. “She believes in you, too. There’s good reason for it.”

“I hope you’re right.” Bracing herself, she continued up, walked slowly down the corridor to Mavis’s room, and knocked.

“Come on in, Summerset. I told you I’d come down for the cake. Oh.” Surprised, Mavis leaned back from the computer where she’d been struggling to write a new song. To cheer herself up, she’d worn a skin suit of bright sapphire and had dyed her hair to match. “I thought it was Summerset.”

“And cake.”

“Yeah, he buzzed in and told me the cook had baked a triple chocolate fudge cake. Summerset knows I’ve got this weakness. I know the two of you don’t get along, but he’s really sweet to me.”

“That’s because he keeps imagining you naked.”

“Whatever works.” She began to tap her tricolored nails on the console in a quick, nervous tattoo. “Anyway he’s been great. I guess if he thought I had my eye on Roarke, it’d be different. He’s like totally devoted. You’d think Roarke was his first and only born or something instead of his boss. That’s the only reason he gives you grief — Well, and you being a cop doesn’t help. I think Summerset has this block about cops.”