by J. D. Robb
“Roarke will surprise you then. Computer, create file, Dallas, first doc, measurements, coloring, height, and weight.” After she’d tossed her shirt aside, he stepped forward with the scanner. “Feet together please. Height, five foot nine inches, weight, one hundred and twenty.”
“How long have you been sleeping with Mavis?”
He rattled off more data. “About two weeks. She’s very dear to me. Waist twenty-six point two inches.”
“Did you start sleeping with her before or after she told you her best friend was marrying Roarke?”
He stopped cold, and his brilliant gold eyes glittered with temper. “I am not using Mavis for a commission, and you insult her by thinking it.”
“Just checking. She’s very dear to me, too. If we’re going to deal on this, I want to make sure all the cards are faceup, that’s all. So—”
The interruption came in fast, and came in furious. A woman in skintight, unadorned black burst in like a comet, perfect teeth bared, lethal red nails curled into talons.
“You two-timing, back-stabbing, mother-fucking son of a bitch.” She made her leap, rather like a gorgeous mortar locked on target, and with a speed and grace brought on by pure fear, Leonardo evaded. “Pandora, I can explain—”
“Explain this.” Turning her wrath on Eve, she swiped out, barely missing scooping Eve’s eyes out of their sockets.
There was only one thing to do. Eve decked her.
“Oh Jesus, oh Jesus.” Leonardo hunched his huge shoulders and wrung his ham-size hands.
chapter two
“Did you have to hit her?”
Eve watched the woman’s eyes roll back, then roll forward. “Yeah.”
Leonardo set down his scanner and sighed. “She’s going to make my life a living hell.”
“My face, my face.” As she teetered back into full consciousness, Pandora scrambled up, patting her jaw. “Is it bruised? Does it show? I’ve got a session in an hour.”
Eve shrugged. “Tough luck.”
Jumping from mood to mood like a crazed gazelle, Pandora hissed through her teeth, “I’ll ruin you, bitch. You’ll never work on screen, on disc, and you sure as hell won’t get a runway job. Do you know who I am?”
Being naked under the circumstances just added to Eve’s mood. “Do you think I care?”
“What’s going on? Damn it, Dallas, he’s just trying to fit you—Oh.” Hurrying in with glasses in both hands, Mavis stopped dead. “Pandora.”
“You.” Obviously, Pandora’s supply of venom wasn’t running low. She sprang at Mavis, sending glasses crashing, tea flying. In seconds, the two women were wrestling on the floor and tearing at each other’s hair.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” If she’d had a stunner on her, Eve would have used it on the pair of them. “Break it up. Goddamn it, Leonardo, give me a hand here before they kill each other.” Eve dived in, pulling at arms and legs. She gave Pandora an extra elbow jab to the ribs for her own enjoyment. “I’ll haul you into a cage, I swear to God.” For lack of anything else, she sat on Pandora and tugged over her jeans to get her badge out of the pocket. “Take a good look, you idiot. I’m a cop. So far, you’ve got two counts of assault. Want to go for three?”
“Get your bony, naked ass off me.”
It wasn’t the order but the relative calm with which it was delivered that had Eve shifting. Pandora rose, brushed her hands meticulously down her black skin suit, sniffed, tossed her luxurious mane of flame-colored hair, then aimed a frigid glare with heavily lashed emerald eyes.
“So, one at a time’s not enough for you anymore, Leonardo. You scum.” Sculpted chin lifted, she cast a scornful look at Eve, then at Mavis. “Your appetite might be increasing, darling, but your taste is deteriorating.”
“Pandora.” Shaken, still wary of attack, Leonardo moistened his lips. “I said I can explain. Lieutenant Dallas is a client.”
She spit like a cobra. “Is that what you’re calling them now? You think you can just toss me aside like yesterday’s news, Leonardo? I say when it’s over.”
Limping a little, Mavis walked to Leonardo, slipped an arm around his waist. “He doesn’t need you or want you.”
“I don’t give a damn what he wants. But need?” Her full lips curved into a nasty smile. “He’ll have to tell you the facts of life, little girl. Without me, there won’t be any show next month for his second-rate clothes. And without a show, he’s not going to make any sales, and without sales, he won’t be able to pay for all that material, all that inventory, and that nice, fat loan he took from the leg breakers.”
She took a deep breath and studied the nails she’d chipped. Fury seemed to fit her as cleanly as her black skin suit. “This is going to cost you big time, Leonardo. I’ve got a busy calendar for the next couple of days, but I’m going to find a way to squeeze in some time to have a chat with your backers. What do you think they’ll say when I tell them I simply can’t lower my standards to walking the runway in your designs? Inferior as they are.”
“You can’t do that, Pandora.” Panic was in every word, a panic Eve was sure was for the glowing redhead like a fix for an addict. “It’ll ruin me. I’ve put everything into this show. Time, money—”
“Isn’t it a shame you didn’t think of that before you picked up this little piece of navel lint?” Pandora’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits. “I think I can manage to have lunch with a few of the money men by the end of the week. You’ve got a couple of days, darling, to decide how you want to play it. Get rid of the new toy, or pay the consequences. You know where to reach me.”
She went out with the exaggerated glide of a model, and punctuated the exit by slamming the door.
“Oh shit.” Leonardo sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands. “Her timing is perfect, as always.”
“Don’t. Don’t let her do this to you. To us.” Near tears, Mavis crouched down in front of him. “You can’t let her run your life anymore, or blackmail you—” Inspired, Mavis sprang up. “It’s blackmail, isn’t it, Dallas? Go arrest her.”
Eve finished buttoning the shirt she’d pulled on. “Honey, I can’t arrest her for saying she’s not going to wear his clothes. I can go haul her in for assault, but she’d be out almost before I closed the door on her.”
“But it is blackmail. Everything Leonardo’s got is tied up in the show. He’ll lose everything without it.”
“I’m sorry. Really. It’s just not a police or security matter.” She dragged her hands through her hair. “Look, she was hot and pissed off. Hopped on something from the look of her eyes. Odds are she’ll calm down.”
“No.” Leonardo sat back in the chair. “She’ll want to make me pay. You must have understood we were lovers. Things were cooling off between us. She’s been off planet for a few weeks, and I considered our personal relationship over. Then, I met Mavis.” His hand found hers, gripped. “And I knew it was over. I spoke with Pandora briefly, told her. Or tried to.”
“Since Dallas can’t help, there’s only one thing to do.” Mavis’s chin quivered. “You have to go back to her. It’s the only way.” She added before Leonardo could speak, “We won’t see each other, at least not until after your show. Maybe then, we can pick up the pieces. You can’t let her go to your backers and ditch your designs.”
“Do you think I could do that? Be with her? Touch her after this? After you?” He rose. “Mavis, I love you.”
“Oh.” Her eyes filled, spilled over. “Oh, Leonardo. Not now. I love you too much to watch her ruin you. I’m going away. To save you.”
She dashed out, leaving Leonardo staring after her. “I’m trapped. The vindictive bitch. She can take everything from me. The woman I love, my work, everything. I could kill her for putting that look in Mavis’s eyes.” He drew a deep breath, looked at his hands. “A man can be pulled in by beauty and not see beneath it.”
“Does what she says to these people matter so much? They wouldn’t have put money behind you if they hadn’t be
lieved in your work.”
“Pandora is one of the top models on the planet. She has power, prestige, connections. A few words from her into the right ear can make or break a man in my position.” He lifted a hand to a fantasy of net and stones hanging beside him. “If she goes public, claiming my designs are inferior, the projected sales will drop away. She knows exactly how to accomplish that. I’ve worked all my life for this show. She knows it, and she knows how to take it from me. And it won’t end there.”
His hand fell back to his side. “Mavis doesn’t understand that, not yet. Pandora can hold that laser beam above my neck for the rest of my professional life—or hers. I’ll never be free of her, Lieutenant, until she decides she’s finished with me.”
By the time Eve got home, she was exhausted. An added session of tears and recriminations with Mavis had sapped her energy. For now, at least, Mavis was comforted with a quart of ice cream and several hours of videos in Eve’s old apartment.
Wanting to forget emotional upheavals and fashion, Eve went straight to the bedroom and fell facedown on the bed. The cat Galahad leaped up beside her, purring manically. After a few head butts brought no reaction, he settled down to sleep. When Roarke found her, she hadn’t moved a muscle.
“So, how was your day off?”
“I hate shopping.”
“You just haven’t developed the knack for it.”
“Who wants to?” Curious, she rolled over, studied him. “You like it. You really like to just buy things.”
“Sure.” Roarke stretched out beside her, stroking the cat when it pawed its way onto his chest. “It’s nearly as satisfying as having things. Being poor, Lieutenant, quite simply sucks.”
She thought it over. As she’d been poor once, had managed to lever herself up to struggling, she couldn’t disagree. “Anyway, I think I got the worst of it over with.”
“That was quick.” And the speed worried him, a little. “You know, Eve, you don’t have to settle for something.”
“Actually, I think Leonardo and I reached an understanding.” Staring up and through the sky window where the sky was the color of old bleach, she frowned. “Mavis is in love with him.”
“Um-hmm.” Eyes half closed, Roarke continued to stroke the cat and thought about switching the gesture to Eve.
“No, I’m talking the big one.” She let out a long breath. “The day didn’t go exactly smoothly.”
He had the figures for three major deals running through his head. Shuttling them aside, he shifted closer to her. “Tell me about it.”
“Leonardo—he’s this massive, and oddly attractive . . . I don’t know. Event. Heavy on the Native American blood, at a guess. He has the bone structure and coloring of an NA, biceps like astro torpedoes, and a voice that has a hint of magnolia. I’m not much of a judge, but when he settled down to sketch, he seemed very focused and talented. Anyway, I was standing there naked—”
“Were you?” Roarke said mildly, and nudging the cat away, he rolled on top of her.
“For measurements,” she said with a sneer.
“Do go on.”
“Okay. Mavis was getting some tea—”
“Convenient.”
“And this woman bursts in, all but drooling at the mouth. A jaw dropper—close to six foot, thin as a laser beam, about a yard of red hair and a face . . . well, I’ll use magnolias again. She’s screaming at him, and this big bull of a guy cowers back, so she jumps at me. I had to flatten her.”
“You hit her.”
“Well, yeah, before she sliced my face with those knifepoint nails of hers.”
“Darling Eve.” He kissed her cheek, then the other, then the dent in her chin. “What is it about you that draws the beast out of people?”
“Just lucky, I guess. So, this Pandora—”
“Pandora?” His head came up, eyes narrowing. “The model.”
“Yeah, she’s supposed to be pretty hot shit.”
He started to laugh, just a chuckle at first that grew and swelled until he had to roll over on his back again. “You punched precious Pandora in her billion-dollar face. Did you knock her on her pretty ass?”
“As a matter of fact.” Understanding bloomed and with it a surprising and unexpected twinge of jealousy. “You know her.”
“You could say that.”
“Well.”
He cocked a brow, not so much warily as with amusement. She was sitting up now and scowling down at him. For the first time in their relationship, he sensed a hint of green in the look. “There was a time—briefly.” He scratched his chin. “It’s all very vague.”
“Bull.”
“It could come back to me. But you were saying?”
“Is there any exceptionally beautiful woman you haven’t slept with?”
“I’ll make you a list. So, you knocked her down.”
“Yeah.” Eve regretted now pulling her punch. “She’s squealing and whining, then Mavis comes in and Pandora goes for her. The two of them are pulling hair and scratching; Leonardo’s wringing his hands.”
Roarke tugged her down on top of him. “You lead such an interesting life.”
“The upshot is, Pandora threatens Leonardo: he ditches Mavis for her or she’s going to wreck this fashion show he’s counting on. Apparently he’s sunk everything into it, borrowed from spine crackers, too. She blackballs the show, he’s ruined.”
“Sounds just like her.”
“After Pandora leaves, Mavis—”
“Were you still naked?”
“I was getting dressed. Mavis decides to make the supreme sacrifice. It was all pretty dramatic stuff. Leonardo declares his love, she starts crying and runs out. Jesus, Roarke, I felt like some pervert with surveillance goggles. I got Mavis settled in my old apartment, at least for the night. She doesn’t have to be in to the club until tomorrow.”
“Stay tuned,” he murmured and smiled at her blank look. “The old daytime dramas. Always end on a cliff-hanger. What is our hero going to do?”
“Some hero,” Eve muttered. “Damn it, I like him, even if he is a pussy. What he’d like to do is bash Pandora’s head in, but he’ll probably cave. Which is why I thought we could put Mavis up here for a few days if she needs it.”
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“It is, as you’ve often pointed out, a big house. I’m fond of Mavis.”
“I know.” She gave him one of her quick, rare smiles. “Thanks. So, how was your day?”
“I bought a small planet. I’m joking,” he said when her mouth fell open. “I did, however, complete negotiations for a farming commune on Taurus Five.”
“Farming?”
“People have to eat. With a bit of restructuring, the commune should be able to provide grain to the manufacturing colonies of Mars, where I have a sizable investment. So, one hand washes the other.”
“I guess. Now about Pandora . . .”
He rolled her over and tugged the shirt he’d already unbuttoned off her shoulders.
“You’re not distracting me,” she told him. “Just how brief is brief in this case?”
He gave what passed for a shrug and nibbled his way from her mouth to her throat.
“Is it like a night, a week . . .” Her body flashed hot when he closed his mouth over her breast. “A month—Okay, now you’re distracting me.”
“I can do better,” he promised. And did.
Visiting the morgue was a lousy way to start the day. Eve strode down the silent, white tiled halls trying not to be annoyed that she’d been called in to view a body at six A.M.
Worse, it was a floater.
She paused at a doorway, holding her badge up for the security camera, and waited for her ID number to be accessed and approved.
Inside, a single technician waited near a wall of refrigerated holding drawers. Most would be occupied, she thought. Summer was always a hot time for dying.
“Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Right. You got one for me.”<
br />
“Just came in.” With the careless cheer of his profession, he moved to a drawer, coded for view. Locks and refrigeration blipped off, and the drawer, with its occupant, slid out with a small burst of icy fog. “Uniform on scene thought she recognized him as one of yours.”
“Yep.” In defense, Eve drew breath in and out of her mouth. Seeing death, violent death, was nothing new. She wasn’t sure she could have explained that it was easier, less personal somehow, to study a body where it had fallen. Here, in the pristine, almost virginal surroundings of the morgue, it was all more obscene.
“Johannsen, Carter. Aka Boomer. Last known address the flop on Beacon. Petty thief, professional weasel, occasional dealer in illegals, and pitiful excuse for a humanoid.” She sighed as she studied what was left of him. “Well, hell, Boomer, what did they do to you?”
“Blunt instrument,” the tech said, taking her question seriously. “Possibly a pipe or a thin bat. We’ll have to finish testing. A lot of strength behind the blows. Only spent a couple hours at most in the river; the contusions and lacerations are evident.”
Eve tuned him out, let him ramble on importantly. She could see well enough for herself.
He’d never been a looker, but they’d left behind very little of his face. He’d been severely beaten, the nose crushed, the mouth all but obscured with blows and bloating. Bruising at the throat indicated strangulation, as did the vivid broken blood vessels that polka-dotted what remained of his face.
His torso was purpled, and from the way his body lay, she guessed his arm had been shattered. The missing finger of his left hand was an old war wound, one she recalled he’d been rather proud of.
Somebody strong, angry, and determined had gotten to poor, pathetic Boomer.
And so, in that short floating time, had the fish.
“The uniform ran the partial prints he had left for ID, you confirm with visual.”
“Yeah. Send me a copy of the post mortem.” She turned and started out. “Who was the uniform who connected me?”