Purity in Death (In Death #15)(38)

"Yeah, but-"

"Look. I'm your expert consultant for a rather pathetic monetary wage, and under that agreement I have the option of selecting a technical assistant. He's mine."

She blew out a breath, paced to the window. Paced back. "Not just yours. It makes him mine, too. I don't know how to deal with a teenaged type person."

"Ah, well, I'd say you'd deal with him as you deal with everyone else. You order him around, and if he argues or doesn't jump quickly enough you freeze his blood with one of those vicious looks you're so good at and verbally abuse him. It always works so well for you."

"You think so?"

"There, see." He cupped her chin. "There it is now. I can actually feel my blood running cold."

"You can keep him, but he's on probation. And you've waived your pathetic monetary wage."

"Have I?" He frowned. "I can't seem to recall doing so."

"And his fee comes out of your pocket."

He'd already intended to pay Jamie, but knew how to play the game. "That's exceedingly unfair. I'm going to talk to my departmental representative about this highhanded treatment."

"You don't have a departmental rep." She walked back to the door. "You got me."

"To both my joy and sorrow," he replied behind her back as she strode into her office.

Jamie was crouched between Feeney and McNab, showing off some handheld device. "It'll read every system on the market and some that aren't on it yet," he was saying. "Then it clones . . ."

His head came up, and then his body. The handheld was jammed into his back pocket. "So, hey. We got a deal or what?"

Roarke merely crossed to him, held out a hand.

Shoulders slumping, Jamie pulled the jammer out of his pocket. "I only borrowed one so I could see about fine-tuning a couple of functions."

"Don't hose me, Jamie. And if you continue to borrow equipment, you'll be losing your work program privileges very quickly." The jammer disappeared into one of Roarke's pockets.

"It was my prototype."

And the royalties from it, Roarke mused, would make the boy a very rich young man. But he said nothing, merely lifted an eyebrow and waited for Jamie to squirm.

"Okay, okay. Don't fry your circuits." Sulking, he looked at Roarke, looked at Eve. He was never quite sure which of them was in charge.

Either way, he knew both of them could stomp him flat before he saw them lift a foot.

It'd been easy with his parents before the divorce. His father had been in charge. After, especially after Alice died, Jamie himself had mostly been in charge.

But around here, you just never knew.

"What's the word?" he demanded.

"You're attached as Roarke's tech in a probationary capacity," Eve told him. "You step out of line, over the line, try wiggling under the line, I squash you like a bug. Now, do you see everyone in this room?"

"Yeah, nothing wrong with the orbs. So?"

"They're all the boss of you. Which means, anyone here gives you an order, including telling you to stand on your head and whistle through your teeth, you do it. Clear? Next," she continued before he had time to complain, "all data, all info, all conversations, all actions or proposed actions done or discussed pertaining to this assignment are confidential. You speak of this to no one, including your best pal, your mother, any girl you're hoping to see naked, or your pet poodle."

"I don't blab off," he said with some heat. "I know how it works. And I don't have any lame poodle. Plus, I've seen naked girls." He grinned now. "Including you."

"Careful, lad," Roarke said quietly. "Step carefully."

"You've got a smart mouth. I remember that about you." Deliberately Eve walked a circle around him. "I like a smart mouth, under certain circumstances. So instead of yanking your ears over your head and tying them in a knot, I'm going to overlook that comment. Once. Baxter, take this drone into the work area. Show him the basic setup. If he touches anything, break his fingers."

"You got it. Let's go, kid." When they reached the doorway, Baxter leaned down. "How'd you see her naked?"

"He's going to be trouble," Eve muttered.

"He'll be worth it." Roarke slid a hand over the jammer in his pocket. "Believe me."

"He's a good kid, Dallas." Feeney pushed to his feet. "Smart, and as steady as you get at that age. We'll keep him in line."

"I'm counting on it. I'm dumping him on you e-guys. Nadine and her camera are due in about twenty. She's never late. You both good to do the one-on-ones downstairs somewhere?"

"Works for me." McNab glanced toward Feeney. "I want to get that over, and get on the job."

"She doesn't come up here," Eve cautioned. "She doesn't go near the kid. Any progress, any at all, tag me. I've got a meet downtown at thirteen hundred. I'll be working out of here until then."

"Let's get started." Feeney laid a hand on McNab's uninjured shoulder. "We'll show the boy what real EDD men can do."

"Flick Baxter back this way. I need to get him set up somewhere."