Midnight in Death (In Death #7.5)(23)
Working…. probability ninety-five point eight that subject Palmer is residing in a private home at this time.
“Given the status of the three remaining targets of subject Palmer, which individual will he attempt to abduct next?”
Working…. strongest probability is for target Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Attempts on targets Polinsky and Mira are illogical given current status.
“That’s what you’re hoping for.”
She turned her head. Roarke stood in the doorway between their offices, watching her. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
“Why aren’t you wearing a tracer bracelet?”
“They don’t have one that goes with my outfit.” She straightened, turned to face him. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” He crossed to her. “Or are you too close to this one? He’s gotten to you, Eve. He’s upset your sense of balance. It’s become almost intimate between you.”
“It’s always intimate.”
“Maybe.” He brushed a thumb just above her left cheekbone. Her eyes were shadowed, her face pale. She was, he knew, running on nerves and determination now. He’d seen it before. “In any case, you’ve interrupted his work. He has no one now.”
“He won’t wait long. I don’t need the computer analysis to tell me that. We’ve got less than forty hours left in the year. I don’t want to start the new one knowing he’s out there. He won’t want to start it without me.”
“Neither do I.”
“You won’t have to.” Because she sensed he needed it, she leaned into him, closed her mouth over his. “We’ve got a date.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
When she started to ease back, he slid his arms around her, brought her close. “I’m not quite done here,” he murmured, and sent her blood swimming with a hard and hungry kiss.
For a moment that was all there was. The taste of him, the feel of him pressed against her, the need they created in each other time after time erupting inside her.
Giving herself to it, and to him, was as natural as breathing.
“Roarke, remember how on Christmas Eve we got naked and crazy?”
“Mmm.” He moved his mouth to her ear, felt her tremble. “I believe I recall something of that.”
“Well, prepare yourself for a review on New Year’s Eve.” She drew his head back, framing his face as she smiled at him. “I’ve decided it’s one of our holiday traditions.”
“I feel very warmly toward tradition.”
“Yeah, and if I feel much warmer right now, I’m not going to get my job done, so…”
She jumped away from him when her ‘link beeped and all but pounced on it. “Dallas.”
“Lieutenant.” Peabody’s face swam on, swam off again, then came shakily back.
“Peabody, either your transmission’s poor or you’ve grown a second nose.”
“The equipment here’s worse than what we deal with at Central.” The audio came through with a snake hiss of static. “And I don’t even want to talk about the food. When you’re planning your next holiday vacation, steer clear of Rexal.”
“And it was top of my list. What have you got for me?”
“I think we just caught a break. We’ve tracked down at least one unit Palmer had access to. It’s in the chapel. He convinced the padre he’d found God and wanted to read Scripture and write an inspirational book on salvation.”
“Glory hallelujah. Can McNab access his files?”
“He says he can. Shut up, McNab.” Peabody turned her head. The fact that her face became a vivid orange could have been temper or space interference. “I’m giving this report. And I’m reporting, sir, that Detective McNab is still one big butt ache.”
“So noted. What does he have so far?”
“He found the files on the book Palmer used to hose the preacher. And he claims he’s working down the levels. Hey!”
The buzzing increased and the screen blurred with color, lines, figures. Eve pressed her fingers to her eyes and prayed for patience.
McNab’s cheerful, attractive face came on. Eve noted that he wore six tiny silver hoops in one ear. So he hadn’t decided to tone down his look for a visit to a rehabilitation center.
“Dallas. This guy knows his electronics, so he took basic precautions with his personal data, but—take a hike, She-Body, this is my area. Anyway, Lieutenant, I’m scraping off the excess now. He’s got stuff tucked under his praise-the-Lord hype. It won’t take me long to start picking it out. The trouble, other than your aide’s constant griping, is transmitting to you. We’ve got crap equipment here and a meteor storm or some such happy shit happening. It’s going to cause some problems.”
“Can you work on the unit on a transport?”
“Ah… sure. Why not?”
“Confiscate the unit, catch the first transpo back. Report en route.”
“Wow, that’s iced. Confiscate. You hear that, She-Body? We’re confiscating this little bastard.”
“Get started,” Eve ordered. “If they give you any grief, have the warden contact me. Dallas out.”
Eve drove into Cop Central, making three unnecessary stops on the way. If Palmer was going to make a move on her, he’d do it on the street. He’d know he would never be able to break through the defenses of Roarke’s fortress. But she spotted no tail, no shadow.
J.D. Robb's Books
- Indulgence in Death (In Death #31)
- Brotherhood in Death (In Death #42)
- Leverage in Death: An Eve Dallas Novel (In Death #47)
- Apprentice in Death (In Death #43)
- Brotherhood in Death (In Death #42)
- Echoes in Death (In Death #44)
- J.D. Robb
- Obsession in Death (In Death #40)
- Devoted in Death (In Death #41)
- Festive in Death (In Death #39)