Loyalty in Death (In Death #9)(50)

“Oh hell, oh shit.” Eve slapped her communicator into her hand. “Malloy? Anne? Report. Give me a report. Anne? Do you copy?”

The answering buzz had her gripping Feeney’s shoulder, then there was a crackle. “Malloy here. We had it contained. No injuries, no casualties. The timer went and we had to contain and detonate. Repeat, no injuries. But this understage area is one holy mess.”

“Okay. All right.” Eve rubbed a hand over her face. “Status?”

“We got them all, Dallas. This building’s clean.”

“Report to the conference room at Central when you’re secured here. Good work.” She broke transmission, spared Roarke a quick glance. “You’re with me, pal.” She offered Feeney a brief nod before striding off. “We’ll need all security data on this building, a complete list of personnel — techs, performers, maintenance, managerial. Everyone.”

“I ordered that for you when I learned the target. It should be waiting for you at Central.”

“Fine. Then you can go back to buying the planet and stay out of my hair. Give me the chip.”

He lifted a brow. “What chip?”

“Don’t be cute. Let me have the impact chip or whatever it’s called.”

“Oh, that chip.” With the appearance of cooperation, he took out his handkerchief, unfolded it. And revealed nothing. “I seem to have lost it somewhere.”

“Like hell. Give me the goddamn chip. Roarke. It’s evidence.”

Smiling blandly, he shook the handkerchief, shrugged.

She moved in until her toes bumped his. “Give me the damn thing, Roarke.” She hissed it out. “Before I order you strip-searched.”

“You can’t do that without a warrant. Unless, of course, you’d like to do it yourself, in which case I’d be more than delighted to waive a few of my civil rights.”

“This is an official investigation.”

“It was my property, twice. My woman, twice.” His eyes had gone very cool. “You know where to find me if you need me, Lieutenant.”

She grabbed his arm. “If ‘my woman’ is your new way of saying ‘my wife,’ I don’t like it any better.”

“I didn’t think you would.” He gave her a friendly kiss on the brow. “See you at home.”

She didn’t bother to snarl. Instead, she contacted Peabody to let the rest of the team know they were heading in.

Clarissa raced into the workroom where Zeke was quietly fashioning the grooves for the tongue-and-groove joints on his cabinet. He glanced up in surprise, noted that her eyes were huge, her face flushed.

“Did you hear?” she demanded. “Someone tried to set off a bomb in Radio City.”

“In the theater?” His brow furrowed as he set down his tools. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Money or something, I suppose.” She brushed a hand over her hair. “Oh, you’re not using the entertainment center. I thought you would have heard. They aren’t giving out any real details, just that the building’s been secured and there’s no danger.”

She fluttered her hands as if she didn’t know what to do with them now. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

“It’s all right. That’s such a beautiful old place. Why would anyone want to destroy it?”

“People are so cruel.” She ran a fingertip along one of the smoothly sanded boards he had stacked on a worktable. “Sometimes there’s no reason for it at all. It just is. I used to go to the Christmas show there every year. My parents would take me.” She smiled a little. “Good memories. I suppose that’s why I got so upset when I heard the news. Well, I should let you get back to work.”

“I was about to take a break.” She was lonely — and more. He was sure of it. Out of politeness, he avoided looking beyond, scanning her aura. He could see enough in her face. She’d used enhancers carefully, but the faint bruise on her cheek showed, as did the results of weeping.

He opened his lunch sack, took out his bottle of juice. “Would you like a drink?”

“No. Yes. Yes, I suppose I would. You don’t have to bring your lunch Zeke. The AutoChef is fully stocked.”

“I’m sort of used to my own.” Because he sensed she needed it, he smiled. “Got any glasses?”

“Oh, of course.” She walked to a doorway, disappeared through it.

He tried not to pay close attention. Really, he did. But it was such a pleasure to watch her move. All that nervous energy just under the seamless grace. She was so tiny, so beautiful.

So sad.

Everything inside him wanted to comfort her.

She came back with two tall, clear glasses, then set them down so she could study his work. “You’ve already done so much. I’ve never seen the stages of something being built by hand, but I thought it would take much more time.”

“It’s just a matter of sticking with it.”

“You love what you do.” She looked back at him, her eyes just a little too bright, her smile just a little too wide. “It shows. I fell in love with your work the first time I saw it. With the heart of it.”

She stopped, laughed at herself. “That sounds ridiculous. I’m always saying something ridiculous.”