"Yes, I know."
His comment was so mild, she was two beats behind before it sank in. "You know? How long have you known?" She marched up to him, blocking his view of the screens. "What the hell kind of game are you playing here?"
"No game at all."
No, she saw that now. His voice might have been calm, but his eyes weren't. "When did you clue into him?"
"I suspected when we realized the auction items were the target. I told you there are only a few who could handle a job of this nature. He's one of them."
"And you didn't bother to tell me that."
"No, I didn't tell you because I had to be sure. Now I am."
"And you're sure because?"
"I asked him," Roarke said simply. "And he told me. I have his notes and job plans here. They might have done it," he added with a glimmer of admiration leaking through. "If everything had gone perfectly, if there'd been absolutely no mistakes, no unknowns, they might have done it."
"You asked him," Eve repeated. "Fine. Great. Where is he?"
"I don't know. I let him go."
"You – " Now she did choke. It wasn't just fury, but shock and outrage and not a little betrayal. "You just let him walk! He's a key player in my investigation, he's a fucking thief who was about to stab you in the back, and you let him go?"
"Yes. I have everything he knows about your investigation, about what was done and what's planned. It won't be much help to you regarding Yost. Mick didn't know Yost had been brought in."
"There's a lot of I-didn't-know going around. You had no right to let him go. No right to interfere in police business. And no goddamn sense to toss him back out on the street."
"Eve – "
"Goddamn it, Roarke, goddamn it. Two people are dead. Summerset might have been. I've just finished sweating Vincent Lane for two hours to get details, to get closer, and to scare him into keeping his mouth shut so the rest of the players aren't alerted. I had to get the PA to deal him down to a single charge and offer witness protection to get him to agree to fake a medical emergency. The asshole's in a posh room at the hospital, zoned out on drugs so he can't talk to anyone."
"That was clever of you. He certainly wouldn't have managed to maintain his role unless he was drugged. And since Liza is part of this, it's best he's out of her bed."
She lifted her hands, felt them clench, then whirled away before she could do something violent. "Yeah, real clever. And now you set Connelly loose. He'll spring to Naples, and they'll abort the job. Your reputation will be safe and sound. And I've lost another link to Yost."
"He won't go to Naples."
"Bullshit. He'll – "
"He won't," Roarke repeated. "If I believed that, or if I had any doubt he was out of the loop on Yost, I'd have done worse than turn him over to you. But I have none. I couldn't give him to you, Eve. I don't expect you to understand."
"Oh, that's real considerate of you. Let's hope you understand the next time we find a silver wire on a body that your skewed sense of loyalty cost someone their life."
He didn't speak, but his eyes, hot and blue, held hers for a long moment. In them she saw her lance had found its mark.
Oh yeah, she thought miserably, I got some great aim.
He turned back to the console. "I have all the data on the plans. I've made copies for you. Forewarned, my security will be able to handle it, but I assume you'll want to be there with your team. You'll have Naples and the rest within thirty-six hours."
And if someone died before then? he thought. If I've cost a friend's life to save a friend?
"If you have any questions," he began, then simply stopped. "I can't be other than what I am," he said quietly. "Whatever I've done to distance myself, I can't be other than what I am. Computer, copy all data on disc."
She waited while the computer completed the task, then took the discs from Roarke when he offered them.
"I hope to God he was worth it," she said, and left him alone.
She called her team first, requested they convene at her home office, then headed to Mick's room to toss it in hopes she'd find some clue where he'd gone.
She was ripping through the bureau when Summerset came in and froze in absolute horror.
"Lieutenant! That is a Chippendale, a valuable antique that must be treated with respect."
"A lot of things need to be treated with respect, and don't get it."
She dumped the empty drawer aside, and turned to drag the bedspread and sheets off the bed.
"Stop it! Stop it at once." He snagged the duvet, tugged. "This is antique Irish lace over silk."
"Look, ace, I'm in the mood to bash someone's face in, and yours is looking pretty good to me." She yanked, he yanked, and they snarled at each other over the tug-of-war.
She let go abruptly and had the satisfaction of watching him stumble back three steps before coming up hard against the wall.
"When did he leave? Connelly? What did he take with him? What was his transpo?"
Summerset merely sucked air through his nose.
"Look, you know what he did, what he planned to do. Roarke would have filled you in by now." You, she thought with some bitterness, but not me. "You want him to get away with it?"
"It's not my decision."
"Hell with that. They sent Yost after you."
"Mick would not have had a part in that arrangement."
She threw up her hands, kicked the bed hard enough to make Summerset leap forward to check for damage. "What is wrong with you people? Connelly is involved up to his teeth. You had no business, Roarke had no damn right, to let him walk out of this house."
"What choice did he have?" Satisfied the antique footboard had sustained no damage, he turned to study her. "Do you understand him so little, after all?"
"Does he understand me so little," she shot back. "After all."
Summerset laid the now-wrinkled duvet on the bed. He owed her something, he thought, for the morning. "You feel he betrayed you by standing for his friend."
"A friend doesn't plot to steal from a friend."
Summerset smiled. "Mick wouldn't have thought of it that way. Neither, at the bottom of it, would Roarke. You do. You're angry, and you have a right to your anger. But it will burn off. Roarke suffers, and that will fester. Is that what you want for him?"
He stepped out of the room.
Tired, frustrated, Eve sat on the bed. The cat padded in, leaped up. He turned three tight circles, kneaded the silk and lace duvet with some enthusiasm, then curled up and stared directly into her face…
"Don't you start on me. You slept with the guy, for God's sake. What does that make you?"
She put out an all-points on Michael Connelly, though she expected he would be well into the wind. Her only hope was that word didn't spread from Mick to Naples to Yost before she closed in.
But even if the heist was aborted, she believed Yost would stick. He'd contracted for Summerset, and he wasn't the type to leave a job unfinished. It would give her time.
And if she was lucky, very lucky, she could use Yost to hook Naples. Her case would not be closed in her mind until she had them both.
"We proceed on the assumption that the hotel will be the target," she told her team. "Everything is set for it. Even if Connelly has bolted, Naples can still implement. He has all the data, and has gone to considerable expense. He'll want to make good on his investment."
"If Connelly goes to him," Feeney put in, "they may still try for it, but they'll shift strategy. They may hit sooner, or wait, come at it from another angle."
"Agreed. We put our counter-plan into place expecting adjustments, and expecting them to hit at any time."
"We'll need Roarke and his top security team," McNab commented.
"I'm aware of that. Feeney, would you discuss that level with Roarke?" She gestured to the adjoining door.
He got up, knocked, and passed through.
"Study the Connelly data until you know it backwards," Eve ordered, then went into the kitchen for coffee, and a moment alone.