"Let me help."
"I can't use you every time it gets tough."
"Why?" His hands began to knead the tension out of her shoulders. "Because I'm not on the departmental-approved list?"
"That would be one." The shoulder massage was relaxing her a bit too much. She felt her mind drift, and wasn't able to snap it back to clarity again. "I'll take two hours downtime. Two hours to prep should be enough. But I'll crash in here."
"Good idea." It was simple enough to guide her to the sleep chair. Her bones were like rubber. He slipped down with her, ordered the chair to full recline.
"You should go to bed," she murmured, but turned her body into his.
"I prefer sleeping with my wife when the opportunity arises."
"Two hours… I think I have an angle."
"Two hours," he agreed, and shut his eyes when he felt her go limp.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"There's something I should tell you." Roarke waited until Eve scooped up the last of an egg-white omelette, and smiled at her as he topped off her coffee. "About the Natural Perfection beauty products."
She only stared at him as she swallowed. "You own the company."
"It's a line of a company that's part of an organization that's a branch of Roarke Industries." He smiled again as he sipped his coffee. "So, in a word, yes."
"I already knew it." She jerked a shoulder, gaining some satisfaction at seeing his eyebrows lift at her careless reaction. "I actually thought I might get through a case without you being connected."
"You really have to get over that, darling. And since I do own it," he continued as she bared her teeth at him, "I should be able to help you track the products used on the victims."
"We're stumbling along there on our own." She pushed away from the little table and paced to her desk. "Logically, the products were purchased at the location where the victims were chosen. Going on that assumption, I can whittle down the choices to a short list. Those enhancements are obscenely expensive."
"You get what you pay for," Roarke said easily.
"Lip dye at two hundred credits a tube for Christ's sake." She shot him a narrow-eyed glance. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"I don't set the price." Now he grinned at her. "I just manage the profit."
A couple of hours of sleep and a hot meal had recharged her, he noted. She wasn't pale now, or quite so heavy-eyed. He rose, walking to her to skim his thumbs over the faint shadows under her eyes. "Would you like to sit in on a board meeting and lobby for a price adjustment?"
"Ha ha." When he brushed his lips over hers, she struggled to keep her own from curving. "Go away, I need to focus."
"In a minute." He kissed her again, nudging a sigh out of her. "Why don't you tell me about it? It'll help you to think out loud."
She sighed again, leaned for a moment, then drew back. "There's an ugliness to this because he's using something that symbolizes hope and innocence. This kid last night… damn it, he was harmless."
"The others were women. What does it tell you?"
"That he's bisexual. That his idea of true love crosses genders. The male victim was raped, just as the women were, bound like them, marked like them, and painted up like them after he'd finished."
She moved away, idly picking up her coffee to drink. "He's getting them from Personally Yours, obviously scanning their videos and personal data. He might have dated the women, but not Donnie Ray. Donnie was straight hetero. The shift makes me think he hasn't met any of the victims face-to-face, at least not in a romantic sense. It's all fantasy."
"He chooses people who live alone."
"He's a coward. Doesn't want any real confrontation. He tranqs them right off, gets them restrained. It's the only way he can be sure he'll have the power, the control."
Her thoughts veered back and settled once again on Rudy. Setting the coffee down again, she dragged a hand through her hair. "He's smart, and obsessive. He's even predictable on several levels. That's how I'll nail him."
"You said you had an angle."
"Yeah, a couple of them. I have to run them by the brass. I've got to dodge Nadine for a while. I can't give her the Santa suit. We'll have people whipping up on every store and street corner Santa in the city."
"There's an image," Roarke murmured. "Serial Santa Strangles Singles… Details at noon. Nadine would love that lead."
"She's not getting it. Not until I don't have a choice. I'm toying with leading the Personally Yours connection. It'll keep her off my back and get the word out to anyone who's used the service. And Rudy and Piper will scream harassment." Her smile spread slow and wicked. "It would be worth it. Couple of protocol droids – I need to shake them up."
"You don't like them."
"They give me the creeps. I know they're fucking each other. Sick."
"You don't approve?"
"They're brother and sister. Twins."
"Oh, I see." However worldly he was, Roarke found himself mirroring his wife's reaction. "That's very… unattractive."
"Yeah." The thought of it ruined her appetite and had her pushing the plate of flaky croissants aside. "He's running the show, and her. Right now, he's top of my list. He has access to every client file, and if I can confirm the incest, we add a bent toward deviant sexual behavior. I need someone inside." She drew a deep breath as she heard bootsteps marching down the hallway. "And there she is now."
Both Eve and Roarke turned as Peabody stepped into the doorway. She looked from one to the other, rolled her shoulders as if shrugging off something vaguely uncomfortable. "Something wrong?"
"No, come in." Eve jerked a thumb toward a chair. "Let's get started."
"Coffee?" Roarke offered. He'd already figured out what Eve had in mind for her aide.
"Yeah, thanks. McNab isn't here yet?"
"No. I'll brief you first." Eve shot Roarke a look, waited.
"I'll just get out of your way." He passed Peabody a cup, turned and kiss his wife despite – or perhaps because of – the fact that she scowled at him, then walked into his adjoining office and shut the door.
"Does he always look like that in the morning?" Peabody wanted to know.
"He always looks like that period."
Peabody sighed deeply. "Are you sure he's human?"
"Not always." Eve angled a hip on the corner of her desk and studied Peabody carefully. "So… want to meet some guys?"
"Huh?"
"Want to broaden your social circle, meet some men who share similar interests?"
Certain Eve was joking, Peabody grinned. "Isn't that why I became a cop?"
"Cops make lousy life partners. What you need, Peabody, is a service like Personally Yours."
Sipping coffee, Peabody shook her head. "Nope. I did a dating service a few years back, right after I moved into the city. Too regimented. I like picking up strange men in bars." When Eve only continued to stare at her, Peabody slowly lowered her cup. "Oh," she said as realization struck. "Oh."
"I'd have to clear it with Whitney. I can't put a uniform undercover without the commander's okay. And before you agree, I want you to know just what you'd be getting into."
"Undercover." Despite the fact that she had been a cop long enough to know better, the phrase conjured up images of excitement and glamour.
"Get the stars out of your eyes, Peabody. Christ." Eve straightened, scooped both hands through her hair. "I'm talking about putting your ass on the line here, using you as bait, and you're grinning like I've just given you a present."
"You think I'm good enough for it. You trust me to handle it. That's a pretty good present."
"I think you're good enough," Eve said, dropping her arms. "I think you can handle it because you know how to follow orders, exactly. And that's what I'd expect. Following orders to the letter. No grandstanding. If I get it cleared, and if I can get the fucking budget to stretch enough for the consultant fee for that place, you'll go in."
"What about Rudy and Piper? They're not off the suspect list, and they've seen me."