Memory in Death (In Death #22)(50)

"Oh, wow. Oh, boy." Sentimental tears sprang to her eyes as she jumped him. His hands clamped on her ass.

"I've got to lock the door," he muttered as he bit cheerfully at her ear.

"Everybody'll know what we're doing."

"I love being the object of envy. Mmm, I missed you. Let me just—"

"Wait, wait!" She shoved back, dug into her pocket. "I forgot. God. It's our present from Dallas and Roarke."

"I'd rather have one from you right now."

"Look. You've got to look. They're giving us the trip," she said as she opened the box, showed him the cards inside. "Private shuttle, ground transpo. The works."

Since his hands dropped off her ass, she figured he was as stunned as she'd been. "Holy shit."

"All we have to do is pack," she said with a watery smile. "You don't have to take the side job, unless you want it. I'm sorry I was such a freak about this. I love you, too."

She threw her arms around him, locked lips. Then eased back with a wicked wiggle of eyebrows. "I'll lock the door."

* * *

Minutes after Eve stepped into her office to coordinate her next move, Peabody rushed in.

"I've got the initial sweeper's report on the room the Lombards vacated—nothing," Peabody said hurriedly. "Canvassing cops found the bar—one block east, two south of the hotel. Door was unlocked. Zana's purse was inside on the floor. I have a team heading there now."

"You've been busy," Eve said. "How did you manage to fit in sex?"

"Sex? I don't know what you're talking about. I bet you want coffee." She darted to the AutoChef, then whirled back. "How do you know I had sex? Do you have sex radar?"

"Your shirt's not buttoned right, and you've got a fresh hickey on your neck."

"Damn it." Peabody slapped a hand to the side of her neck. "How bad is it? Why don't you have a mirror in here?"

"Because, let's see, could it be because it's an office? You're a disgrace. Go do something about yourself before the commander—" Her interoffice 'link beeped. "Too late. Step back. Step the hell back so you're not on-screen. Christ."

Her head might have dropped in shame as she eased out of range, but a smile tugged at Peabody's mouth. "We made up."

"Can it. Dallas."

"Commander Whitney would like to see you in his office, immediately."

"On my way." She clicked off. "Give me the salient, make it fast."

"I'll come. I just need to—"

"Give me the salient, Detective. Then write your report."

"Sir. The sweepers found no evidence in the rooms vacated by Bobby and Zana to tie them to the murder under investigation. Zana Lombard's handbag was located by canvassing officers inside a bar called Hidey Hole on Ninth between Thirty-nine and Forty. The officers entered the premises when it was noted that the security was off, and the lock disengaged. The officers sealed the building, and sweepers are responding."

"Name of the owner of the bar, the owner of the building."

"I intended to obtain that information after bringing you up to date."

"Do it now. Run the names. I want the data and your written report within thirty."

Eve let the steam of temper carry her out of her office, through the bull pen, into the elevator, where for once she didn't have to use her elbows to maintain a little personal space.

Good thing, she decided. She might've broken some ass**le's ribs.

Then she shut it down, turned it off. She would show Whitney nothing but control and professionalism. She'd use them, and whatever else she needed, to keep the case.

He was waiting, sitting back in his chair behind his desk. His wide, dark face showed no more than hers what was inside his head. His hair was salt and pepper, with the salt liberally dashed. There were lines carved in his face, around the eyes, around the mouth, etched there by time and, she was sure, the burden of command.

"Lieutenant, you've named yourself as primary in a homicide investigation that is now in its second day, and this office has not been so informed by you."

"Sir, the investigation came into my hands yesterday morning. Sunday morning, sir, when both of us were off duty."

He acknowledged that with a slight dip of his head. "Yet you took charge of this matter while off duty, utilizing departmental personnel, and equipment, neglecting to inform your superior."

No point in bullshit, she decided. "Yes, sir, I did. I believed the circumstances warranted my actions, and am fully prepared to report said circumstances and actions at this time."

He lifted a hand. "In the 'better-late-than-never' category?"

"No, sir. In the 'immediate-need-to-secure-the-scene-and-gather-evidence' category. Respectfully, Commander."

"The victim was known to you."

"She was. I haven't seen or had contact with the victim for over twenty years until two days before her death, when she came to my office."

"You're entering a boggy area, Dallas."

"I don't believe so, sir. I knew the victim briefly when I was a child. Therefore—"

"You were under her care for several months when you were a child," he corrected.