Loyalty in Death (In Death #9)(39)

She turned back to the machine, called up the four companies that manufactured politex. Roarke Industries, she noted, Branson Toys and Tools, Eurotell Corporation, and Aries Manufacturing.

“Peabody, any of these named for those god people?”

“God people? Oh, I get it. Aries. I think he’s a god of something or other, and I know he’s a sign of the Zodiac.”

“Greek?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s see if they follow pattern.” She ordered the data search and found Aries listed at an invalid address and attached to Mount Olympus.

“They’re certainly tidy.” Eve stepped back, leaned against the counter. “If they have a pattern, we can start predicting. Like Cassandra,” she said with a cool smile.

She sent Peabody off to transfer the data and start an updated report. Then, switching to privacy mode, she called Roarke’s office.

“I need to speak with him,” she told Roarke’s terrifyingly efficient assistant. “If he’s available.”

“Just one moment, Lieutenant. I’ll pass you through.”

One hand to her headphones, Eve moved quietly to the doorway, saw Peabody hard at work at the desk. With only a slight tug of guilt, she slipped back out of sight. She wasn’t deceiving her aide, she told herself. She was preventing Peabody from stepping into the shadowy area between the law and justice.

“Lieutenant? What can I do for you?”

Eve blew out a breath and stepped into those shadows. “I need a consult.”

“Oh? Of what sort?”

“Of the unofficial sort.”

A glimmer of a smile worked around his mouth. “Ah.”

“I hate when you say ‘ah’ that way.”

“I know.”

“Look, I’m not in a position to explain right now, but if you don’t have anything on for tonight — “

“But I do. We do,” he reminded her. “You invited guests.”

“I invited?” She went totally blank. “I never invite anybody. You’re the one.”

“Not this time. Peabody and her young brother? Ring a bell?”

“Oh hell.” Dragging a hand through her hair, Eve paced in a circle. “I can’t get out of that. I can’t tell her the truth, and if I make some lame excuse, she’ll pout. You can’t work with her when she pouts.”

She picked up her coffee, drank with a scowl on her face. “Are we like feeding them and everything?”

He laughed, adoring her. “Eve, you are the most gracious of hosts. Personally, I’m looking forward to meeting Peabody’s brother. Free-Agers are so soothing.”

“I’m not much in the mood for soothing.” But she shrugged. “Well, they have to go home sometime.”

“They certainly do. I’ll be home in a couple of hours. That should give you time to fill me in.”

“Okay, we’ll play it that way. You ever hear of Aries Manufacturing?”

“No.”

“Mount Olympus Enterprises?”

She had his interest now. “No. But Cassandra slides right in, doesn’t she?”

“Looks that way. I’ll be home when you get here,” she told him and signed off.

She solved the first problem by sending Peabody back to Cop Central with the updated report and instructions to pass what they had on to Feeney and McNab.

With the idea of clearing her head before she worked on the rest of the problem, she headed downstairs. A quick workout, she decided, might jar something loose in her brain.

Summerset stood at the base of the stairs. He studied her baggy sweater and ancient trousers with a cool and derisive eye. “I trust you intend to change into something more appropriate before dinner this evening.”

“I trust you’ll continue to be an ass**le for the rest of your life.”

He drew air sharply through his nose, and because he knew she despised it, took her arm before she could swing by him. She bared her teeth. He smiled. “There is a messenger coming to the door with a package for you.”

“A messenger.” Though she yanked her arm free as a matter of principle, she shifted to stand between Summerset and the door. Her hand moved automatically to rest on her weapon. “Did you scan?”

“Naturally.” Puzzled, he lifted a brow. “It’s a registered delivery service. The driver is a young female. The scan showed no weapons.”

“Call the delivery service and verify,” she ordered. “I’ll take care of the door.” She started forward, tossed a glance over her shoulder. “You scanned for explosives?”

He paled a little but nodded. “Of course. Gate security is very thorough. Roarke designed it himself.”

“Call and verify,” she repeated. “Do it from the back of the house.”

Eyes grim, Summerset drew out his palm ‘link but moved no farther than the parlor doorway. He’d be damned if he’d allow Eve to shield him as she’d done once before.

Eve watched the mini-scooter approach on the security monitor. The logo for Zippy Service was clearly printed on the fuel tank. The driver wore the standard bright red uniform, goggles, and cap. She flipped them up as she stopped the scooter, then stood gaping at the house.

She was young, Eve noted, her cheeks still pudgy with baby fat. Her eyes were wide and dazzled as she craned her head back to try to see the top of the house as she moved forward.