Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(83)

“All right. I only have one thing to say.”

“I don’t need criticisms on procedure from a guy who pops locks like you, pal.”

He took out a handkerchief, dabbed at her chin. “The next time you start to say you have no family,” he began quietly, “think again. Mavis is yours.”

She started to speak, reevaluated. “I’m doing my job,” she decided. “If I get some personal pleasure out of it, what’s wrong with that?”

“Not a thing.” He kissed her lightly, then turned left.

“I want to go around the back of the building. Take a right at the next corner, then — “

“I know how to get around the back of that building.”

“Don’t tell me you own that one, too.”

“All right, I won’t tell you. And by the way, if you had asked me about the security setup at Young’s place, I could have saved you — or I should say Feeney — a little time and trouble.” When she huffed, he smiled. “If I get some personal pleasure out of owning large chunks of Manhattan, what’s wrong with that?”

She turned to stare out of the window so he couldn’t see her smirk.

For Roarke, it seemed, there would always be a table at the most exclusive restaurant, front row seats at the current hit play, and a convenient parking place on the street. He glided in and killed the engine.

“You don’t, I trust, expect me to wait here.”

“What I expect doesn’t usually hold water with you. Come on, but try to remember you’re a civilian. I’m not.”

“That’s something I never forget.” He code locked the car. It was a good neighborhood, but the car was worth an easy six months’ rent in even the most exclusive of units in the building. “Darling, before we shift into the official mode, what do you have on under that dress?”

“A device designed to drive men wild.”

“It’s working. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen your butt move quite that way.”

“It’s a cop’s butt now, ace, so watch it.”

“I am.” He smiled, gave it a nice solid smack. “Believe me. Good evening, Peabody.”

“Roarke.” Her face bland, as if she hadn’t heard a word, Peabody stepped out from the shrubbery. “Dallas.”

“Any sign of — ” Eve went into a defensive crouch as the shrubbery rustled, then swore as Casto came out grinning. “Goddamn it, Peabody.”

“Now, don’t blame DeeDee. I was with her when your call came in. She wouldn’t have been able to shake me. Interdepartmental cooperation, Eve?” Still smiling, he extended a hand. “Roarke, a pleasure to meet you. Jake Casto, Illegals.”

“So I gathered.” Roarke’s brow cocked as he noted Casto take in the black satin that slithered over Eve’s body. In the manner of men or unfriendly male dogs, Roarke showed his teeth.

“Nice dress, Eve. You mentioned something about taking a sample to the lab.”

“Do you always listen in on another cop’s transmissions?”

“Well…” He stroked his chin. “The call came through at a particular moment, you see. I’d have had to be deaf not to catch it.” He sobered. “You figure you got Jerry Fitzgerald with a dose of Immortality?”

“We’ll have to wait for the analysis.” She shifted her attention to Peabody. “Is Young in there?”

“That’s confirmed. A check with security shows him coming in about nineteen hundred. He hasn’t been out since.”

“Unless he took the back way.”

“No, sir.” Peabody allowed herself a small smile. “I called his ‘link when I arrived, and he answered. I apologized for the wrong contact.”

“He’s seen you.”

Peabody shook her head. “Men like that don’t remember underlings. He didn’t make me, and there’s been no movement in this area since my arrival at twenty-three thirty-eight.” She gestured over, up. “His lights are on.”

“So we wait. Casto, you could make yourself useful and stake out the front entrance.”

He flashed a grin. “Trying to get rid of me?”

Her eyes lit in response. “Yep. We could get technical. As primary on the Moppett, Johannsen, Pandora, and Ro homicides, I have full authority on coordinating investigations. Therefore — “

“You’re a tough woman, Eve.” He sighed, shrugged, sent Peabody a wink. “Keep a light burning for me, DeeDee.”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Peabody began formally when Casto moved off. “He overheard the transmission. As there was no way to prevent him from coming to the scene on his own, it seemed more productive to enlist his aid.”

“It doesn’t seem to be a problem.” When her communicator beeped, she shifted aside. “Dallas.” She listened a moment, lips curving, then nodded. “Thanks.” She started to slip the unit into her pocket, then remembered she didn’t have a pocket, and dropped it into her bag. “Fitzgerald’s sprung, own recognizance. Not surprising she’d get OR over a little tussle at a fashion party.”

“If the lab results fall,” Peabody said.

“If. We wait on that.” She glanced at Roarke. “This could be a long night. You don’t have to hang. Peabody and Casto can drop me when we’re done.”