Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(84)

“I like long nights. A moment of your time, Lieutenant.” With a firm hand on her arm, Roarke led her a few paces away. “You didn’t mention you had an admirer in Illegals.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “Didn’t I?”

“The kind of admirer who’d like to nibble his way up your extremities.”

“That’s an interesting way of putting it. Look, he and Peabody are an item at the moment.”

“That doesn’t stop him from licking his chops over you.”

She gave a quick snorting laugh, then catching the look in Roarke’s eye, she sobered and cleared her throat. “He’s harmless.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Roarke, it’s just one of those little testosterone games you guys play.” His eyes were still gleaming and caused something to jitter, not unpleasantly, in her stomach. “You’re not, like, jealous?”

“Yes.” It was demeaning to admit it, but he was a man who did what had to be done.

“Really?” The jittery feeling turned into a nice warm spread of pleasure. “Well, thanks.”

There was no point in sighing. Certainly no point in giving her a quick shake. Instead, he dipped his hands in his pockets and inclined his head. “You’re welcome. Eve, we’re going to be married in a few days.”

The jittering started again, big time. “Yeah.”

“If he keeps looking at you like that, I’m going to have to hurt him.”

She smiled, patted his cheek. “Down, boy.”

Before she could do more than chuckle, he’d snagged her wrist, leaned in close. “You belong to me.” Her eyes fired, her teeth bared. The show of temper had him relaxing immediately. “It goes both ways, darling, but in case you haven’t noticed, it seems only fair to tell you, I’m very territorial over what’s mine.” He kissed her snarling mouth. “I do love you, Eve. Ridiculously.”

“It’s ridiculous all right.” To settle her temper, she tried a long, slow breath. “Look, not that I figure you deserve any explanation, but I’m not interested in Casto, or anybody else. And, as it happens, Peabody’s gone over him. So just shut down your thrusters.”

“Done. Now, would you like me to go back to the car and get some coffee?”

She angled her head. “Is that a cheap bribe to smooth this over?”

“I’ll remind you that my blend of coffee isn’t cheap.”

“Peabody takes hers light. Hold it.” She grabbed his arm, tugged him back toward the bushes. “Wait for it,” Eve murmured as a car shot down the street. It squealed to a halt, did a fast vertical to squeeze into a top-level parking spot. Impatient maneuvering knocked bumpers. A woman in shimmering silver strode down the ramp to the sidewalk.

“There’s our girl,” Eve said quietly. “She didn’t waste any time.”

“You called it, Lieutenant,” Peabody commented.

“Looks like. Now why would a woman who has recently gone through an uncomfortable, inconvenient, and potentially embarrassing situation, run straight to a man she’s just broken up with, accused of cheating, and who popped her in the face? All in public.”

“Sadomasochistic tendencies?” Roarke suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Eve said, appreciating him. “It’s S and M all right, but it stands for sex and money. And lookie here, Peabody, our heroine knows the back way in.”

With one careless glance over her shoulder, Jerry headed straight for the maintenance entrance, keyed in a code, and disappeared inside.

“I’d say she’s done that before.” Roarke laid a hand on Eve’s shoulder. “Is that enough to break their alibi?”

“It’s a damn good start.” Reaching in her bag, she took out surveillance goggles. She strapped them on, adjusting the power as she focused on Justin Young’s windows. “Can’t see him,” she murmured. “No one’s in the living area.” She shifted her head. “Bedroom’s empty, but there’s a flight bag open on the bed. A lot of doors closed. No way to get a view of the kitchen and rear entrance from here, damn it.”

She put her hands on her hips and kept scanning. “There’s a glass of something on the table by the bed, and a light playing. I’d say his bedroom screen’s on. There she is now.”

Eve’s lips stayed curved as she watched Jerry storm into the bedroom. The goggles were powerful enough to give her a clear close-up of undiluted fury. Jerry’s mouth was moving. She reached down, plucked off her shoes, heaved them.

“Temper, temper,” Eve murmured. “She’s calling for him, throwing things. Enter the young hero, stage left. Well, I’ve got to say, he’s built.”

With her own goggles in place, Peabody let out a low hum of agreement.

Justin was buck naked, his skin beaded with water, his gilded hair sleeked with it. Apparently Jerry was unimpressed. She raged at him, shoved while he held up his hands, shook his head. The argument grew heated, dramatic, Eve mused, with lots of arm gestures, tossing heads. Then it changed tones abruptly. Justin was tearing off Jerry’s ten-thousand-dollar silver gown as they fell on the bed.

“Aw, isn’t that sweet, Peabody? They’re making up.”