Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(71)

“Ah, yes.” He looked like everyone’s favorite uncle when he extended a hand, and his grip was like an arm wrestler’s on a dare. “Let’s see what we can do for you. Weddings are such a complicated business, and you haven’t left me much time.”

“He didn’t give me a hell of a lot, either.”

Mark laughed, patted his silvery hair. “Sit, relax, have a little tea. I have a great deal to show you.”

She didn’t mind really, Eve decided. She liked flowers. She just hadn’t known there were so damn many of them. And after five minutes, her head began to swim with orchids and lilies, roses and gardenias.

“Simple,” Roarke decided. “Traditional. No simulations.”

“Yes, of course. I have some holograms that may spark some ideas. You’re having it outdoors, so I might suggest arbors, wisteria. Very traditional, and with a lovely, old-fashioned fragrance.”

Eve studied the holograms, tried to envision herself standing under an arbor with Roarke, exchanging vows. Her stomach jittered. “What about petunias?”

Mark blinked. “Petunias?”

“I like petunias. They’re simple, and they don’t pretend to be what they’re not.”

“Yes, certainly. Quite charming. Perhaps backed with a bank of lilies. As to color…”

“Do you carry Immortal Blossoms?” she asked on impulse.

“Immortals.” Mark’s eyes brightened. “They’re quite a specialty item. Difficult to import, of course, but very hardy and spectacular in baskets. I have several simulations.”

“We don’t want simulations,” Eve reminded him.

“I’m afraid they can only be exported in small amounts, and then only to licensed florists and horticulturists. And only for indoor use. As your ceremony is outdoors — “

“Do you sell many?”

“Very rarely, and only to other licensed horticulture experts. I do have something just as lovely — “

“You have records of those sales? Can you get me a list of names? You’re on the net for world delivery, aren’t you?”

“Naturally, but — “

“I need to know everyone who ordered Immortals during the past two years.”

When Mark sent him a baffled look, Roarke ran his tongue around his teeth. “My fiancee is an avid gardener.”

“Yes, I see. It may take a few moments to access. You want everyone.”

“Everyone who placed an order to the Eden Colony for Immortals during the last two years. You can start with the States.”

“If you’ll just wait then, I’ll see what I can do.”

“I like the arbor idea,” Eve announced, springing up when Mark left them. “Don’t you?”

Roarke rose, put his hands on her shoulders. “Why don’t you let me handle the floral arrangements? I’ll surprise you.”

“I’ll owe you one.”

“Indeed you will. You can start paying me back by remembering we’re attending Leonardo’s showing on Friday.”

“I knew that.”

“And by remembering to access your three weeks’ leave for our honeymoon.”

“I thought we said two.”

“We did. Now you owe me one. Would you like to tell me why you have this sudden fascination with a flower from the Eden Colony? Or do I just assume that you found your unknown.”

“It’s the nectar. It does a lot to tie the three homicides together. If I can just get a break.”

“I hope this is what you’re looking for.” Mark came back in with a sheet of paper. “It wasn’t as difficult as I’d feared. There haven’t been many orders for Immortals. Most importers are satisfied with simulations. There are a few problems with the actual specimen.”

“Thank you.” Eve took the page, skimmed down the list. “Gotcha,” she murmured then whirled to Roarke. “I have to go. Buy lots of flowers, boatloads of flowers. Don’t forget the petunias.” She charged out, pulling her communicator. “Peabody.”

“But — but the bouquet. The bridal bouquet.” Confused, Mark turned to Roarke. “She hasn’t chosen.”

Roarke watched her fly out. “I know what she likes,” he said. “Often better than she does.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Nice to have you back, Mr. Redford.”

“This is becoming an unfortunate habit, Lieutenant.” Redford took his seat at the interview table. “I’m expected in New Los Angeles in a few hours. I trust you won’t inconvenience me long.”

“I believe in backing up my data. Wouldn’t want anything or anyone to slip through the cracks.”

She glanced toward the corner where Peabody stood, looking her officious best in full uniform. On the other side of the glass, Eve knew, Whitney and the prosecutor watched every move. She nailed it down here, or very likely, she’d be nailed herself.

She took her seat, nodded to the hologram of Redford’s chosen counsel. Obviously, neither Redford nor his attorney believed the situation was serious enough to warrant an in-the-flesh representation. “Counselor, you have the transcript of your client’s statements?”

“I do.” The pinstriped, tough-eyed image folded his manicured hands. “My client has cooperated fully with you and your department, Lieutenant. We agree to this interview only to finalize the matter.”