"A holo? You're sure?"
"Don't I look sure?" He let his cocky smile go when Eve only stared coolly at him. "Yeah, it was a holo. Damn good one, but I enhanced, did heat and light testing. The image was projected."
"Good." It was one more stone to weigh on Summerset's side. "Any hits yet on the analysis of the security discs on the Luxury Towers?"
"They're whining in EDD. Backlog. I used your name and got them to promise we'd have results within the next forty-eight."
Feeney, Eve thought, where the hell are you? "What else have you got?"
"The transmission had the same echo as the others. Exact match."
"Even better. Now find the source." She rose. "It's time for me to put in a public appearance. Let's get this jerk now that I'm up for another round. Peabody, you're with me."
"My favorite place. Lieutenant."
"Sucking up noted." She pulled her palm 'link as she started out, coded in for Nadine Furst at Channel 75.
"Hey, Dallas, you look pretty good for an invalid."
"Get this. Lieutenant Eve Dallas has recovered from her injuries and is reporting back to duty. She remains in charge of the investigation involving the murders of Brennen, Conroy, and O'Leary. She is confident a suspect will be in custody shortly."
"Hold it, let me get my recorder."
"That's all you get, pal. Put it on." She clicked off as she jogged down the stairs. There, draped across the newel post, was a new and butter-smooth leather jacket of golden brown. "He doesn't miss a trick," Eve murmured as she picked it up.
"Man oh man." Unable to resist, Peabody stroked a hand down the sleeve as Eve shrugged into it. "Like a baby's bottom."
"It had to cost ten times what my old one did, and I'll have it banged up in a week. I don't know why he – Shit, where's Roarke?" She turned to the house computer. "Locate Roarke."
Roarke is not on the premises at this time.
"Well, hell," Eve muttered. "Where the hell did he go so fast? He damn well better be out buying some country and not poking into this."
"Does he really buy countries?" Peabody wanted to know as she hurried outside after Eve.
"How the hell do I know? I stay out of his business, which is more than he does for me. Central Park Arms." She swore, suddenly sure that's where he'd gone. Then she stopped, stared at the empty space in front of the steps. "I don't have a vehicle," she remembered. "Goddamn it, I don't have a ride."
"Auto requisition hasn't come through. You can make a personal order."
"Oh yeah, that'll only take a week or two. Shit." Jamming her hands in new, silky pockets, she jogged to the end of the house.
The garage attachment melded with the main structure. The massive doors were wood with thick brass fittings. The windows, arched and majestic, were sunscreened to keep the finish on the vehicles housed there from fading. Inside the temperature would be kept, year-round, at a comfortable seventy-two degrees.
Eve uncoded the locks, identified herself through voice and palm print. The doors swung gracefully open.
So did Peabody's mouth. "Holy cow."
"It's excessive," Eve said, sniffing. "It's ridiculous and such a cliched man-thing."
"It's frigid," Peabody said reverently.
Vehicles were housed in individual bays, on two levels. Sports cars, limos, air cycles, all-terrains, sedate sedans, and sleek solo-riders. Colors ranged from flashy neon shades to classic blacks. Peabody stared dreamily at a tandem-style air cycle and imagined herself riding the skies, wind in her hair, with some muscled hunk behind her.
She snapped out of it when she saw Eve heading toward a discreet compact model in industrial gray.
"Dallas, how about this one?" Hopefully, Peabody gestured up to a snazzy electric blue sportster, its silver wheels gleaming, its narrow grille a piece of automotive art.
"That's a fuck-me car, and you know it."
"Well, yeah, maybe, but it's got to be fast, and really efficient. It'd be loaded, too." She smiled winningly.
"Everything in here's loaded."
Peabody danced forward when Eve reached for the button to release the sedan. "Come on, Dallas, live a little. Don't you want to see how she moves? And it's only temporary. You'll be back in some departmental clunker before you know it. It's a 6000XX." Her voice came perilously close to a whine. "Most people live their whole lives without even touching one. Just one ride. What could it hurt?"
"Don't beg," Eve muttered. "Jesus." But she gave in and lowered the sportster to the scrubbed tile floor.
"Oh, look at the interior. It's real leather, isn't it? White leather." Unable to control herself, Peabody opened the door of the car and breathed deep. "Just smell it. Oh, oh, check the controls. It's even got an airjet gauge. We could be on the beach in New L.A. in under three hours in this baby."
"Get a hold of yourself, Peabody, or it's back to the sedan."
"No way." Peabody all but dived inside. "You're not getting me out with a hydro-lift until I get a ride."
"I wouldn't think a woman raised by Free-Agers would be so shallow and materialistic."
"I had to work on it, but I've almost got it down." She smiled happily when Eve slipped in beside her. "Dallas, this rocks. Can I try the music system?"
"No. Strap in. We'll look for your dignity later." But because the car called for it, Eve engaged ignition and took off like a rocket.
It took less than ten minutes to reach the Central Park Arms.
"Did you see the way this honey handled the turns? You took that last one at sixty and there wasn't even a shimmy. Imagine what she'd do in the air. Why don't we try it when we leave. Man, I think I had an orgasm rounding Sixty-second."
"I don't need to know about that." Eve climbed out, tossed her key code to the doorman. When she flashed her badge, the hand he'd held out for a tip retreated. "I want that vehicle kept close. I don't want to wait more than thirty seconds for it when I come out."
Without waiting for an answer, she swung through the auto-doors and crossed the mosaic tiles of the lobby toward the massive front desk.
"You have a suite registered to a Brian Kelly," she said, holding up her badge.
"Yes, Lieutenant, scheduled for arrival and occupancy this afternoon. Penthouse B, Tower Level."
"Clear me through."
"I believe that suite is occupied at the moment. However, if you'd like to wait until – "
"Clear me through," she repeated. "Now."
"Right away. The private elevator is down this corridor and to the left. It's clearly marked. Your key code will access both the elevator and the doors, parlor and bedroom."
"Any transmissions, messages, deliveries come in for that suite, send them directly up."
"Of course."
The clerk winced as she strode off, then quickly rang Penthouse B. "I beg your pardon, sir, but a Lieutenant Dallas and a uniformed officer are on their way up. Excuse me? Ah, yes, sir, of course. I'll see to it right away."
Baffled, the clerk hung up, then contacted room service and ordered coffee, tea cakes, and fresh fruit for three.
Outside Penthouse B, Eve drew her weapon. At her signal, Peabody flanked the opposite side of the door. Eve slid her key code toward the lock, gave her aide a quick nod.
They went in low and fast.
She hissed at Roarke, who continued to smile and lounge on the silk-covered sofa pit. "I don't think the weapon's necessary, darling. I've ordered coffee, and the service here is very swift and efficient."
"I ought to give you a jolt, just for the hell of it."
"You'd be sorry later. Hello, Peabody, you look a bit windblown. Very attractive."
Flushing, she brushed at her straight black hair. "Well, I put the sky roof down for a minute on the XX."
"Sexy little ride, isn't it? Well, shall we discuss how to lay the trap now, or wait for the coffee?"
Resigned, Eve shoved her weapon back in its harness.
"We'll wait for the coffee."