"It's always been you and me, Dave."
"Exactly. Come alone, by midnight, and we'll finish what we started three years ago."
"I don't know that she's still alive."
He only smiled. "You don't know that she's not." And broke transmission.
"Another public 'link," Roarke told her. "Port Authority."
"I need the location. If I'm not there by midnight, he'll kill her." She rose, paced. "He's got a place, one with full security. He's not bullshitting there. He'll have cameras, in and out. Sensors. He didn't have time to set all that up in a week, so either the place came equipped with them or he ordered them from prison courtesy of the chaplain."
"We can access tax records, blueprints, specs. It'll take time."
"Time's running out. Let's get started."
At two she received word that Peabody and McNab had landed, and she ordered them to bring the unit to her home office. He was close, she thought again, and none of them should waste time working downtown.
The minute they walked in, she began outlining her plan of attack. "McNab, set up over there. Start checking out any financials, transfers, transmissions, using the chaplain's name. Or a combo of his and Palmer's. Peabody, contact Whitney, request a canvas of all private garages in the suspect area. I want uniforms, every warm body we can find, hitting the public parking facilities with orders to confiscate and review all security tapes for the past week."
"All, Lieutenant?"
"Every last one."
She swung around and into Roarke's office. Using his auxiliary unit, she called up data, shot it to screen. "I've got the residences of Palmer's targets in blue," she told Roarke. "We run from mid to upper Manhattan, heaviest population on the East Side. We need to concentrate on private homes in this ten-block radius. Unless something jumps out at you, disregard anything that doesn't fit this profile."
She rolled her shoulders to relieve the tension, closed her eyes to clear her mind. "It'll have a basement. Probably two stories in addition to it. Fully soundproofed and most likely with its own vehicle storage area. I've got them looking at public storage, but I'm betting he has his own. He wants me to find him, goddamn it, so it can't be that hard. He wants me to work for it but not to fail. It's just personal for him, and without me…"
She trailed off, whirled around. "He needs me. Jesus. Check my name. Check deeds, mortgages, leases using my name."
"There's your new angle, Lieutenant," Roarke murmured as he set to work. "Very good."
"Toss it on screen," she asked even as she moved to stand behind him and watch. As her name popped up with a list of liber and folio numbers she swore again. "How the hell did he get all that property?"
"That's not his, it's yours."
"What do you mean mine? I don't own anything."
"Properties I've transferred into your name." Roarke spoke absently as he continued the scan.
"Transferred? What the hell for?"
He skimmed a finger lightly over her wedding ring and earned a punch in the shoulder. "You're welcome."
"Take it back. All of it."
"It's complicated. Taxes. Really, you're doing me a favor. No, there's nothing here that isn't yours. We'll try a combination of names."
She wanted, badly, to seethe, but she didn't have time.
They found three listings for the name David Dallas in Manhattan.
"Get the property descriptions."
"I'm working on it. It takes a moment to hack into city hall."
Barely more than that for Roarke, Eve noted as the data flashed on screen. "No, that's downtown. Sex club. Try the next." She gripped the back of his chair, straining with impatience. "That's just out of the target area, but possible. Hold that and run the last. I'll be damned." She almost whispered it. "He reverted to type after all. That's his parents' house. He bought their place."
"Two and a half years ago," Roarke confirmed. "Using the name David Dallas. Your man was thinking ahead. Very far ahead. We'll find accounts in that name, or an account that he had and closed."
"Five blocks from here. The son of a bitch is five blocks from here." She leaned down, kissed the top of Roarke's head, and strode back into her office. "I've found it," she announced, then looked at her wrist unit. "We've got seven hours to figure out how to take him down."
She would go in alone. She insisted on it. She agreed to go in wired. Agreed to surveillance and backup at half-block intervals surrounding the house. For luck she pinned on the badge Peabody had given her, then waited with growing impatience as Feeney checked the transmitter.
"You're on," he told her. "Nothing I found on the video disc had equipment that can tag this pretty little bug. We've got a decoy so he'll think he's found one and deactivated it."
"Good thinking."
"You got to do it this way." He nodded at her. "I'd do the same. But you better understand I hear anything I don't like, I'm coming in. Roarke." He stepped back as Roarke came into the room. "I'll give you a minute here."
Roarke crossed to her, tapped a finger on her badge. "Funny, you don't look like Gary Cooper."
"Who?"
He smiled."High Noon, darling Eve, though the clock's turned around on this one. We have a date in a couple of hours."
"I remember. I've got a present coming. I can do this."
"Yes." He kissed her, softly. "I know. Give my best to Mira."
"You bet. The team's moving into place now. I have to go."
"I'll see you soon."
He waited until she was gone, then walked outside himself and climbed casually into Feeney's unit. "I'll be riding with you."
Feeney scratched his chin. " Dallas won't like it."
"That's a pity. I spent the last few hours studying the schematics for the security on the Palmer house. I can bypass it, by remote."
"Can you, now?" Feeney said mildly.
Roarke turned his head, gave Feeney a level look. "I shouldn't need more than twenty minutes clear to manage it."
Feeney pursed his lips and started down the drive. "I'll see what we can do about that."
She went in at ten. It was best, she'd decided, not to cut it too close to the deadline. The old brownstone was lovely, in perfect repair. The security cameras and sensors were discreetly worked into the trim so as not to detract from its dignity.
As she walked to the door she was certain Palmer was watching. And that he was pleased. She gave the overhead camera a brief glance, then bypassed the locks with her master.
She closed the door at her back, heard the locks snick automatically back into place. As they did, the foyer lights flashed on.
"Good evening, Dallas." Palmer's voice flowed out of the intercom. "I'm so pleased you could make it. I was just assuring Doctor Mira that you'd be here soon so we could begin our end-of-year celebration. She's fine, by the way. Now, if you'd just remove your weapon – "
"No." She said it casually as she moved forward. "I'm not stripping down for you, Dave, so you can take me out as I come down the stairs. Let's not insult each other."
He laughed. "Well, I suppose you're right. Keep it. Take it out. Engage it. It's fine. Just remember, Doctor Mira's fate is in your hands. Come join us, Lieutenant. Let's party."
She'd been in the house before, when she interviewed his parents. Even if the basic setup hadn't come back to her, she'd taken time to study the blueprints. Still, she didn't move too quickly, but scanned cautiously for booby traps on the way through the house.
She turned at the kitchen, opened the basement door. The sound of cheering blasted up at her. The lights were on bright. She could see streamers, balloons, festive decorations.
She took her weapon out and started down.
He had champagne chilling in a bucket, pretty canapes spread on silver trays on a table draped with a colorful cloth.
And he had Mira in a cage.
"Lieutenant Dallas." Mira said it calmly, though her mind was screaming. She'd been careful to call Eve by her title, to keep their relationship professional, distant.
"Doctor." Palmer clucked his tongue. "I told you I'd do the talking. Lieutenant, you see this control I'm holding. Just so we understand each other right away, if I press this button, a very strong current will pass through the metal of the doctor's temporary home. She'll be dead in seconds. Even with your weapon on full, I'll have time to engage it. Actually, my nervous system will react in such a way to the shock that my finger will twitch involuntarily, and the doctor, shall we say, is toasted."
"Okay, Dave, but I intend to verify that Doctor Mira is unharmed. Are you hurt, Doctor?"
"No." And she'd managed so far to hold back hysteria. "He hasn't hurt me. And I don't think he will. You won't hurt me, will you, David? You know I want to help you. I understand how difficult all this has been for you, not having anyone who appreciates what you've been working to achieve."
"She's really good, isn't she?" he said to Eve. "So soothing. Since I don't want to show her any disrespect – you'll note I didn't remove her clothing for our little experiment – maybe you should tell her to shut the fuck up. Would you mind, Dallas?"
"Dave and I need to handle this, Dr. Mira." Eve moved closer. "Don't we, Dave? It's you and me."
"I've waited for this for so long. You can see I've gone to quite a bit of trouble." He gestured with his free hand. "Maybe you'd like a drink, an hors d'oeuvre. We have a celebration going on. The end of the old, the birth of the new. Oh, and before I jam that wire you're wearing, tell the backup team that if anyone attempts entry, you both die."
"I'm sure they heard you. And they already have orders to hold back. You said to come alone," she reminded him. "So I did. I always played it straight with you."
"That's right. We learned to trust each other."
"Why stop now? I've got a deal for you, Dave. A trade. Me for Mira. You let her out of there, you let her go, and I'll get in. You'll have what you want."
"Eve, don't – " Mira's composure started to slip.
"This is between me and Dave." She kept her eye on him, level and cool. "That's what you want, isn't it? To put me in a cage, the way I put you in one. You've been thinking about it for three years. You've been planning it, working for it, arranging it step by step. And you did a damn good job this time around. Let her go, Dave. She was just bait, you got me here by using her. Let her go and I'll put down my weapon. I'll get in, and you'll have the kind of subject you've always wanted."
She took another step toward him, watching his eyes now, watching them consider. Desire. "She's a shrink, and she's not in the kind of condition I'm in – mental or physical. She sits at a desk and pokes into other people's minds. You start on her, she'll go down fast, give you no satisfaction. Think how long I'll last. Not just hours, days. Maybe weeks if you can hold the outside team off that long. You know it's going to end here, for both of us."
"Yes, I'm prepared for that."
"But this way, you can get your payback and finish your work. Two for one. But you have to let her out."
Music crashed out of the entertainment unit. On screen the revelers in Times Square swarmed like feverish ants.
"Put down the weapon now."
"Tell me it's a deal." She held her breath, lifted her weapon, aimed it at the center of his body. "Tell me it's a deal or I take you down. She goes, but I live. And you lose all around. Take the deal, Dave. You'll never get a better one."
"I'll take the deal." All but quivering with excitement, he rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Put the weapon down. Put it down and move away from it."
"Bring the cage down first. Bring it down to the floor so I know you mean it."
"I can still kill her." But he reached out to the console, touched a switch. The cage began to sway and lower.
"I know it. You've got the power here. I've just got a job. I'm sworn to protect her. Unlock the cage."
"Put the weapon down!" He shouted it out now, raising his voice over the music and cheers. "You said you'd put it down, now do it!"
"Okay. We've got a deal." Sweat slid down her back as she bent to lay the weapon on the floor. "You don't kill for the hell of it. It's for science. Unlock the cage and let her go." Eve lifted her hands, palms out.
On a bright laugh, he grabbed up a stunner, jabbed the air with it. "Just in case. You stay where you are, Dallas."
Her heart began to beat again when he put the control down, hit the button to release the locks. "Sorry you have to leave the party, Doctor Mira. But I promised this dance to the lieutenant."
"I need to help her out." Eve crouched to take Mira's hand. "Her muscles are stiff. She wouldn't have lasted for you, Dave." She gave Mira's hand one hard squeeze.
"Get in, get in now."
"As soon as she's clear." Eve remained crouched, pushed Mira aside. As she used her body as a shield, she had time to register a movement on the stairs, then her clinch piece was in her hand.
"I lied, Dave." She watched his eyes go round with shock, saw him grab for the control, lower the stunner. The crowd cheered wildly as her blast took him full in the chest.
His body jerked, a quick and obscene dance. He was right, she noted, about the finger twitch. It depressed convulsively on the control even as he fell onto the cage.
Sparks showered from it, from his quaking body as she dragged Mira clear and curled herself over her.
"Your jacket's caught fire, Lieutenant." With admirable calm, Roarke bent over and patted out the spark that burned the leather at her shoulder.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Just picking up my wife for our date." He reached down gently and helped Mira to her feet. "He's gone," Roarke murmured, and brushed tears from her cheeks.
"I couldn't reach him. I tried, for hours after I woke up in that… in that thing. But I couldn't reach him." Mira turned to Eve. "You could, in the only way that was left. I was afraid you'd – " She broke off, shook her head. "I was afraid you'd come, and afraid you wouldn't. I should have trusted you to do what had to be done."
When she caught Eve in a hard embrace, pressed her cheek against hers, Eve held on, just held on, then eased away, awkwardly patting Mira's back. "It was a team effort – including this civilian this time around. Go spend New Year's with your family. We'll worry about the routine later."
"Thank you for my life." She kissed Eve's cheek, then turned and kissed Roarke's. And didn't begin to weep again until she was upstairs.
"Well, Lieutenant, it's a very fitting end."
She followed Roarke's gaze, studied Palmer, and felt nothing but quiet relief. "To the man or the year?"
"To both." He stepped to the champagne, sniffing it as he drew it from the bucket. "Your team's on the way in. But I think we could take time for a toast."
"Not here. Not with that." She took the bottle, dumped it back into the bucket. On impulse, she took the badge off her shirt, pinned it on his. "Routine can wait. I want to collect on my present."
"Where do you want to go?"
"Just home." She slid an arm around his waist, moving toward the stairs as cops started down. "Just home, with you." She heard the crowd erupt with another cheer. "Happy New Year."
"Not quite yet. But it will be."