by J. D. Robb
‘Oh, yeah?’ Nadine looked blearily around.
‘Dare you.’
‘Dare me what? To get up there? Shit, that’s nothing.’
‘Then do it.’ Eve leaned over, grinned in her face. ‘Let’s see some action.’
‘You think I won’t.’ Rising, Nadine teetered, righted herself. ‘Hey, hot stuff,’ she shouted to the closest dancer. ‘Give me a hand up.’
The crowd loved her, Eve decided. Especially when Nadine got into the spirit and stripped down to purple underwear. Eve sighed into her mineral water. She sure knew how to pick her friends. ‘How’s it going, Trina?’
‘I’m having an out of body experience. I think I’m in Tibet.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Eve cast a look at Dr. Mira. The way the woman was cheering, Eve was afraid she’d leap up onstage herself. She didn’t think either one of them wanted that vision in their memory logs. ‘Peabody.’ She had to jab her fingers into Peabody’s arm to get even a vague reaction. ‘Let’s get some more food here.’
Peabody grunted. ‘I could do that.’
Following her gaze, Eve watched Nadine in a crotch grind with a seven-foot black in body paint. ‘Sure you could, pal. You’d bring the house down.’
‘It’s just that I’ve got this little pouch.’ She staggered, and Eve caught her neatly by the arm. ‘Jake called it my jelly belly. I’m saving up to have it sucked.’
‘Just do some more abs. Don’t go for the vacuum.’
‘It’s heditary.’
‘Hereditary.’
‘Right.’ She swayed and bobbled as Eve steered her through the crowd. ‘Everybody in my family’s got one. Jake likes ’em skinny. Like you.’
‘Screw him, then.’
‘Did.’ Peabody giggled, then leaned heavily on a serving bar. ‘Screwed our brains out. That’s not what does it, though, you know that, Evie.’
Eve sighed. ‘Peabody, I don’t want to punch a fellow officer when she’s impaired. So don’t call me Evie.’
‘Right. Know what does it?’
‘Food,’ she ordered from the server droid. ‘Any kind and lots of it. Table three. What does what, Peabody?’
‘What does it. It. What you and Roarke got, that’s what does it. Connection. Inside connections. Sex is just the extra.’
‘Sure. You and Casto having problems?’
‘Nope. Just don’t have much connection now that the case is closed.’ Peabody shook her head and lights exploded in front of her eyes. ‘Jesus, I’m plowed. Gotta use the john.’
‘I’ll go with you.’
‘I can do it myself.’ With some dignity, Peabody nudged Eve’s hand from her arm. ‘I don’t care to vomit in front of a superior officer, if it’s all the same to you.’
‘Suit yourself.’
But Eve watched her like a hawk as she toddled across the floor. They’d been at it nearly three hours, she judged. And though fun was fun, she was going to get some food into her little playmates and see that they all got transport home.
Smiling, she leaned on the bar herself, watching Nadine, still wearing purple briefs, sitting at the table having an earnest discussion with Dr. Mira. Trina had her head on the table now and was probably communing with the Dhali Lama.
Mavis, eyes shining, was onstage, screeching out an impromptu number that had the dance floor rocking.
Damn it, she thought as she felt her throat burn. She loved the whole snockered lot of them. Peabody included, she decided, and opted to take a short peek into the toilet to make sure her aide hadn’t passed out or drowned.
She made it nearly halfway across the club before she was grabbed. As it had been happening on and off all evening as hopeful clubgoers trolled for partners, she started to shake off good-naturedly.
‘Try again, ace. Not interested. Hey!’ The quick pinch on her arm annoyed more than hurt. But her vision was already wavering as she was muscled through the hooting crowd and shoved into a privacy room.
‘Goddamn it, I said I wasn’t interested.’ She started to reach for her badge, missed her pocket completely. At a gentle nudge, she spilled backward onto a narrow bed.
‘Take a rest, Eve. We have to talk.’ Casto dropped down next to her and crossed his feet at the ankles.
Roarke wasn’t in a partygoing mood, but as Feeney had gone to some trouble to create a monstrously hedonistic atmosphere, he played his part. It was a hall of sorts, crowded with men, many of whom were surprised to find themselves participating in such a pagan ritual. Still, Feeney, with his electronic expertise, had ferreted out some of Roarke’s closer business associates, and none had wanted to risk offending someone of Roarke’s stature with a refusal.
So there they were, the rich, the famous, and the scrambling, pressed into a badly lit room with life-size screens flickering with naked bodies in various, imaginative acts of sexual frenzy, a trio of live strippers already entertainingly naked, and enough beer and whiskey to sink the Seventh Fleet and all its crew.
Roarke had to admit it had been a nice gesture and was doing his best to live up to Feeney’s expectations as a man on his final night of freedom.
‘There you are, boy-o, another whiskey for you.’ After several of the Irish himself, Feeney had slipped comfortably into the brogue of the country he’d never seen - that indeed his great-great-grandparents had never set foot on. ‘Up the rebels, eh?’
Roarke cocked a brow. He himself had been born in Dublin and had spent most of his youth wandering its streets and alleys. Yet he couldn’t claim the sentimental attachment Feeney did for a land and its rebellions. ‘Slainte,’ he said to please his friend, and sipped.
‘There’s a lad. Now you see here, Roarke, the ladies among us are for looking purposes only. No touching for you now.’
‘I’ll do my best to restrain myself.’
Feeney grinned and slapped Roarke on the back hard enough to stagger him. ‘She’s a prize, isn’t she? Our Dallas.’
‘She’s . . .’ Roarke scowled into his whiskey. ‘Something,’ he decided.
‘Keep you on your toes, she will. Keeps them all on their toes. Got a mind like a fucking shark. You know, focused on one thing till the thing’s done. Tell you straight, this last case had her bug-shit.’
‘She hasn’t let it go,’ Roarke murmured, and smiled coolly when a naked blonde sidled up to rub her hands up his chest. ‘You’ll have better luck with that one,’ he told her, gesturing to a glaze-eyed man in charcoal gray pinstripes. ‘He owns Stoner Dynamics.’
When she looked blank, Roarke gently disengaged the hands that were gliding cheerfully toward his crotch. ‘He’s loaded.’
She shimmied off, leaving Feeney gazing wistfully after her. ‘I’m a happily married man, Roarke.’
‘So I’ve been told.’
‘It’s lowering to admit I’m not but a little tempted to give a pretty young thing like that a quick ride in a dark room.’
‘You’re a better man for it, Feeney.’
‘That’s the truth.’ He sighed, low and long, then veered back to the former topic. ‘Dallas goes off for a few weeks, she’ll put this aside, get on with the next.’
‘She doesn’t like losing, and she thinks she has.’ He tried to dismiss it. Damn if he wanted to spend the night before his wedding picking apart a homicide. With a muttered curse, he steered Feeney to a quiet corner. ‘What do you know about that dealer who got hit in the East End?’
‘Cockroach. Not much to know. Dealer, fairly slick, fairly stupid. It’s amazing how many of them are both. Stuck to his own turf. Liked a quick, easy profit.’
‘Was he a weasel, too? Like Boomer?’
‘Usta weasel. His trainer retired last year.’
‘What happens when a trainer retires?’
‘Another one takes on the weasel, or he’s let go. Didn’t find any new trainer for Cockroach.’
Roarke started to shrug it off, but it kept niggling. ‘The cop who retired? Did he work with anybody?’
‘What d’you think? I got
memory chips in my head?’
‘Yes.’
Flattered, Feeney preened. ‘Well, as a matter of fact, I recall he was partnered with an old pal of mine. Danny Riley. That was back in, oh, forty-one. Seems like he cruised with Mari Dirscolli for a few years to about forty-eight. Might be forty-nine. ’
‘Never mind,’ Roarke muttered.
‘Then he teamed with Casto a couple years.’
Roarke’s attention snapped back. ‘Casto? Was he partnered with Casto while he was Cockroach’s trainer?’
‘Sure, but only one leg of a team works as trainer.’Course,’ Feeney murmured as his brow furrowed. ‘Usual procedure is to take over your partner’s contacts. No record Casto did. He had his own weasels.’
Roarke told himself it was his own prejudice, his own ridiculous knee-jerk jealousy. He didn’t give a damn. ‘Not everything’s locked into record. You don’t find it coincidental that two weasels who worked close to Casto got hit, both of them with connections to Immortality?’
‘We aren’t saying Casto had Cockroach. And it’s not that coincidental. You’re dealing with illegals here, you got overlaps. ’
‘What other connection have you found that links Cockroach to the other murders, other than Casto?’
‘Jesus, Roarke.’ He ran a hand over his face. ‘You’re as bad as Dallas. Look, a lot of Illegals cops end up with abuse problems. Casto’s clean to the bone. Never had a trace in any of his testing. He’s got a good rep, he’s coming up for captaincy, and it’s no secret he wants it. He’s not going to go messing around with this kind of shit.’
‘Sometimes a man is just a little bit tempted, Feeney, and sometimes he gives in. You want to tell me it would be the first time an Illegals cop made a few credits on the side?’
‘No.’ Feeney sighed again. He was sobering up with this kind of talk. And he didn’t like it. ‘There’s nothing to pin on him, Roarke. Dallas was working with him. If he was a wrong cop, she’d have smelled it. She’s like that.’
‘She’s been distracted. Off stride,’ Roarke murmured, remembering her own words. ‘Think it through, Feeney, no matter how fast she moved on this, she always seemed to be one step off. If someone had known her moves, they might have anticipated her. Especially someone who thinks like a cop.’
‘You don’t like him because he’s almost as pretty as you,’ Feeney said sourly.
Roarke let that pass. ‘How much can you dig up on him tonight?’
‘Tonight? Jesus, you want me to dig shit up on another cop, go into personal records, because he had a couple of weasels knocked? And you want me to do it tonight?’
Roarke put a hand on Feeney’s shoulder. ‘We can use my unit.’
‘You’ll make a good pair,’ Feeney muttered as Roarke steered him through the crowd. ‘Both a couple of sharks.’
Eve’s vision wavered as if she’d suddenly stepped over her head into a tankful of water. Through the ripple, she saw Casto, could smell the faint scent of soap and sweat on his skin. But she couldn’t home in on what he was doing there.
‘What’s going on, Casto? We get a call?’ Blankly, she looked around for Peabody, saw the shimmering red drapes that were supposed to add sensuality to a room designed for quick, cheap sex. ‘Wait a minute.’
‘Just relax.’ He didn’t want to give her another dose, not in addition to what she’d been drinking at her hen party. ‘The door’s locked, Eve, so you can’t go anywhere. You’ve got a nice buzz on to make it easier all around.’ He pushed a satin-edged pillow behind his back. ‘It would have been easier still if you’d just let go. But you didn’t. You won’t. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe you put the hammer on Lilligas.’
‘Who - what?’
‘The florist on Vegas II. That’s cutting it too damn close. I’ve been using the bastard myself.’
Her stomach tilted nastily. When she tasted bile at the back of her throat, she leaned forward, stuck her head between her knees and concentrated on breathing in and out.
‘Downloads make some people nauseous. We’ll go with something else next time.’
‘I missed you.’ She tried to focus on keeping the heavy, greasy food she’d celebrated with instead of liquor from spewing back up. ‘I fucking missed you.’
‘Yeah.’ He knew she wasn’t speaking out of sentiment. ‘You weren’t looking for another cop. Hey, why should you? And you had your own worries. Broke the rules, Eve. You know the primary is never, ever supposed to get personally involved. You were too worried about your friend. I admire that, really, even if it is stupid.’
He took her by the hair, dragged her head back. After a quick check of her pupils, he decided the initial dose would hold her for a while. He didn’t want to risk overdosing her. Not until he’d finished.
‘And I do admire you, Eve.’
‘You sonofabitch.’ Her voice slurred over her thickened tongue. ‘You killed them.’
‘Each and every one.’ Relaxed, he crossed his feet at the ankles. ‘It’s been hard to hold it all back, I’ve got to admit. Rough on the ego not to be able to show a woman like you what a smart man can accomplish. You know, Eve, I was a little worried when I learned you were in charge of Boomer.’ He reached out, ran a fingertip from her chin down between her breasts. ‘I thought I could charm you. Gotta admit you were attracted.’
‘Get your hand off me.’ She slapped out at it, missed by several inches.
‘Your depth perception’s off.’ He chuckled. ‘Drugs mess you up, Eve. Take it from me. I see it every shitty day on the streets. Got sick of seeing it. That’s how it started. All those fancy dudes making their fancy profits and never getting their manicures sticky. Why not me?’
‘For money.’
‘What else is there? I fell into the Immortality connection a couple years back. It was like kismet. Early days then, took my time, did my homework, used a source on the Eden Colony to slip me a sample. Poor old Boomer ferreted it out - my connection from the Eden Colony.’
‘Boomer told you.’
‘Sure he did. He had something in the Illegals market, he came to me. Didn’t know I was already in on it, not then. I kept it under wraps. I didn’t know Boomer had a copy of the fucking formula. Didn’t know he was holding out, hoping for a nice big chunk.’
‘You killed him. You broke him to pieces.’
‘Not until it was necessary. I never do anything until it’s necessary. It was Pandora, you see, that beautiful bitch.’
Eve listened, fighting to bring her brain and motor skills back into mesh while Casto spun her a tale of sex, power, and profit.
Pandora had spotted him at the club. Or they’d spotted each other. She’d liked the idea that he was a cop, and the kind of cop he was. He’d be able to get his hands on lots of goodies, wouldn’t he? And for her, he’d been happy to do so. He’d been enchanted with her, obsessed, and yes, addicted. No harm in admitting that now. His mistake had been to share his information about Immortality with her, to listen to her ideas for cashing in. Huge profits, she’d predicted. More money than they could spend in three lifetimes. And youth, beauty, great sex. She’d become addicted to the drug quickly, always hungered for more, and she had used him to get it.
But she had been useful, too. Her career, her fame, had made it easy for her to travel, to carry more of what was then being manufactured exclusively on Starlight Station in a little private lab.
Then he’d discovered she’d brought Redford in on the deal. He’d been furious with her, but she’d been able to string him along with sex and promises. And the money, of course.
But things had started to go wrong. Boomer had pushed for money, had pocketed a bag of the drug in powder form.
‘I should have been able to handle him. Little wart. Trailed him here. He was flying, running his mouth, tossing the credits I’d given him to keep him quiet around like candy. I couldn’t know what he’d said to that damn whore.’ Casto shrugged. ‘You figured that out yourself. Right scenario, Eve, wrong person. I had to
take her out. I was in too deep for mistakes by then. She was just a whore.’
Eve leaned her head back against the wall. Her head had nearly stopped spinning now. She thanked God the dose had been light. Casto was on a roll. She could keep him talking. If she couldn’t get the hell out on her own, someone was going to come looking for her soon.
‘Then you went after Boomer.’
‘I couldn’t go to his flop and drag him out. My face is too well known around there. I gave him a little time, then I contacted him. Told him we’d be able to deal. We needed him in on our side. He was stupid enough to buy it. Then I had him.’
‘You messed him up first. You didn’t kill him quick.’
‘I had to find out how much he’d let out, who he might have talked to. He didn’t deal well with pain, our Boomer. Spilled his guts. I found out about the formula. Really pissed me off. I wasn’t going to mess up his face like the hooker’s, but I lost it. Plain and simple. Got emotionally involved, you could say.’
‘You’re a cold bastard,’ Eve muttered, making her voice weak and blurry.
‘Now that’s just not true, Eve. You ask Peabody.’ He grinned, gave her breast a quick tweak that sent fury and rage cycling to her gut. ‘I went for DeeDee when I realized you weren’t going to take a nibble. Too wrapped up in that rich Irish bastard to take a look at a real man. And DeeDee, bless her, was ripe for plucking. Never could get much out of her on what you were up to, though. DeeDee’s got good cop all over her. Slip a little help into her wine, though, she gets more cooperative.’
‘You drugged Peabody?’
‘Now and then, just to pump her for any details you might have left out of your official report. And to keep her sleeping pretty when I had to go out at night. She was an airtight alibi. Anyway, you know about Pandora. That went pretty much as you had figured, too. Only I was staking out her place that night. Scooped her up the minute she came storming out. She wanted to go to that designer’s. We’d pretty much finished up our sexual relationship by then. Just business now. I figured why not take her? I knew she was working to cut me out of the whole deal. She wanted it all. She didn’t think she needed some street cop hanging on, even if he was the one to give her the damn stuff to begin with. She knew about Boomer, too. But that didn’t bother her. What did she care about some dirty alley croucher? And she never thought, never considered that I’d hurt her.’