Indulgence in Death (In Death #31)(109)

“You’re making a fool of yourself,” Moriarity told her—but his gaze shifted to Dudley’s.

“Like Delaflote made a fool out of the Dudleys when he was nailing Winnie’s mommy?” She bared her teeth in a smile. “Oh, yeah, I know. I know a lot. Nearly there, boys. Nearly time to pay the bill.”

“Madam.” The hostess came over, eyes full of apologies for the men. “I have to ask you to leave.”

“No problem. I can find better places to drink than a dump that serves scum like these two. Drink up,” she told both men. “They don’t serve fancy liquor in the cages you’re going to be in within forty-eight. And that’s just where I’m going to put you. You can bet on it.”

Eve almost wished she wore a cape so she could’ve swirled it as she stormed out of the room.

She kept storming a block north, turned, and kept the pace another half a block. Feeney opened the back of the e-van. She hopped in, yanked off the shoes. “How’d I do?”

“If I was married to you, I’d be divorced.”

Roarke took her hand, kissed it. “She’s a bitch, but she’s my bitch.”

She tapped her ear. “Peabody reports they’re in intense conversation. It looks to her like Dudley’s trying to convince Moriarity, is pushing a point.”

“I can hear her.” Roarke tapped in turn. “You’re not the only one with ears.”

“Oh. That was a good idea, putting it out you’d be gone tonight. They’re going to want to make their move.”

She turned her wrist when her com signaled. “Check this,” she said to Feeney. “Dallas.”

“Reo pulled it off,” Baxter told her. “We got the warrants.”

“Don’t go in yet. Give them some time. If this worked, one or both of them is going to show up at one of the houses or one of the HQs where they have private quarters. They need to get the weapon. Let them come and go. No longer than ten minutes in. It’s over that, move in. I don’t want to have spooked them into ditching any evidence, but if we take them in with a weapon, we’re going to add attempted on a police officer. That’s the icing on the cupcake.”

“We’re on hold.”

“Seems a shame to waste the performance,” she said to Roarke. “Damn it.” She scowled at Peabody’s voice in her ear. “They’re ordering another drink. Maybe they’re not going to bite after all. Stick with them,” she ordered Peabody, then answered the com again. “What?”

“Movement at the Moriarity house. It’s the droid, Dallas, the same droid we have going into the Frost/Simpson house.”

She shook her head in wonder. “God, they are idiots. They didn’t destroy the droid, and odds are he’ll bring them the weapon. I want a team on that droid. I want to know where it goes, what it does. When it’s clear of the house, move in. All locations.”

She rubbed her bare foot. “They bit.”

“I believe they did,” Roarke commented.

22

EVE TRIED TO IGNORE THE FACT THAT FEENEY and Roarke were talking in e-geek. That was bad enough, but on the other side of her McNab and Peabody snuggled up together like a couple of sleepy puppies, and she was pretty sure the murmurs and giggles were some sort of sex talk.

If she didn’t get out of the damn van soon, she’d commit mass murder. She’d use the ice-pick heel of one of the arch-throbbing red shoes to skewer geek and puppy brains.

They’d make a good weapon, she considered. With the right force, the right angle, you probably could skewer brains.

Maybe that’s why women wore them, as a just in case I have to kill somebody tool. That, at least, made some sense. Except it would make more sense to wear them on your hands where they’d be right there if you needed—

Her homicidal thoughts scattered as Carmichael spoke in her ear.

“Subjects entering the theater.”

“Copy that. Keep eyes on them.”

“On them now. They’re heading straight to the bar. Ordering a bottle of champagne for their box. Making a big show of it, a lot of loud, hearty laughter, drawing attention. They’re heading in now. Staff’s scrambling to get it up to their box before curtain.”

Establishing the alibi, Eve thought. “Take positions. One of them goes to take a leak, you’re with them.”

“I think I’ll leave that to the new guy. Out.”

“Cutting it close,” Eve said. “Getting there five minutes to curtain, ordering champagne. The bartender will remember them, and so will the servers and some of the people milling around.”

Idiots, she thought, but not completely stupid.

“They’ll need to wait until the performance starts to make any move. Wait until people are watching the stage, the house is dark. But soon. It has to be soon. Cut it out.” She gave Peabody a shove. “You’re making my eye twitch.”

“We’re just sitting here.”

“I know sex giggles when I hear them.”

“I wasn’t giggling.”

“Not you. Him.”

McNab just grinned at her. “Those were manly chuckles.”

“You’re cops. Be cops.”

She shifted, scowled. “What are you smiling at?” she demanded of Roarke.