"Just wondering."
"We're adding to his cage time," Eve continued, "but we're not pinning him on the big one. And Mira's profile is going to work against us."
"Lieutenant." Peabody sucked in her breath and took the chance. "Have you considered that she's right? That's he's not responsible?"
"Yeah, I have. And that scares the hell out of me. If she's right, there's someone else out there with a brain toy, and we're not even close. So we all better hope we've got our man safely locked away."
"Speaking of our man," Feeney broke in. "You better know he's lawyered himself."
"I figured he would. Anybody we know?"
"Leanore Bastwick."
"Well, hell. Small world."
"She wants to make points off of you, Dallas." Feeney took out his bag of nuts, offered them to Peabody. "She's raring to go. Wants to set up a media conference. Word is she took him on pro bono, just for the shot at you, and the media coverage this will get once it hits."
"She can take her shot. We can block the press conference for twenty-four hours. We'd better solidify before then."
"I pulled a thread loose," Peabody told her. "It might unravel more with some tugging. Mathias did indeed attend MIT for two semesters. Unfortunately, his term there was three years after Jess did his at-home degree, but Jess used his alumni status to access data from their files. He also taught an E-class elective on musicology, which the university uploaded into their library curriculum. Mathias took the course during his last semester."
Eve felt a quick power surge. "That's something to tug on. Good work. It connects, finally. And maybe we've been looking in the wrong place. Pearly was the first known victim. What if he's the one who was connected with the others? It could be as simple as their common interest in electronic games."
"We looked there already."
"So look again," she told Peabody. "And look deeper. Not all the clubs and loops are above ground. If Mathias was used to help develop the system, he might have bragged about it. Those hobby hackers use all kinds of compu-names. Can you find his?"
"Eventually," Feeney agreed.
"You can contact Jack Carter. He was his roommate on Olympus. Maybe he can give you a boost on them. Peabody, contact Devane's son, see what you can shake out of him on this angle. I'll work on the Fitzhugh angle." She glanced at her watch. "I'll make a stop first. Maybe I can cut through some of the layers." She felt she was back to square one, looking for the connection. There had to be one, and she was going to have to involve Roarke to find it. She called him from her car 'link.
"Well, hello, Lieutenant. How was your nap?"
"Too short and too long ago. How long are you going to be in midtown?"
"Another few hours at any rate. Why?"
"I'm coming by. Now. Can you squeeze me in?"
He smiled. "Always."
"It's business," she said, and cut him off before she could smile back. Daring her auto-drive, she programmed destination, then used her 'link again. "Nadine."
Nadine angled her head, shot Eve a cold look. "Lieutenant."
"Nine a.m., my office."
"Should I bring a lawyer?"
"Bring your recorder. I'll give you a jump on tomorrow's press conference re Jess Barrow."
"What press conference?" The image and voice quality sharpened as Nadine went immediately to private, dragging headphones over her hair. "There's nothing on schedule."
"There will be. You want that jump, and you want the official report from the primary, be there at nine."
"What's the catch?"
"Senator Pearly. Get me everything. Not the official data, the quiet stuff. His hobbies, playgrounds. His underground connections."
"Pearly was clean as a church choir."
"You don't have to be dirty to play underground, you just have to be curious."
"And what makes you think I can get private data on a government official?"
"Because you're you, Nadine. Feed the data to my home unit, and I'll see you at nine hundred hours. You'll beat the pack by two hours easy. Think of those ratings."
"I'm thinking. Deal," she snapped and signed off.
When Eve was able to glide smoothly into the parking facility at Roarke's midtown office, she began to think more kindly toward vehicle maintenance. Her VIP space was waiting, locking its security shield the moment she shut down.
The elevator accepted her palm print and zoomed her up to the top floor in a quiet, dignified ride.
She'd never get used to it.
Roarke's personal assistant beamed at her, welcomed her home, welcomed her in, and escorted her through the plush outer offices, down the streamlined corridor, and into the elegant efficiency of Roarke's private office.
But he wasn't alone.
"Sorry." She struggled not to frown at Reeanna and William. "I'm interrupting."
"Not at all." Roarke walked over, kissed her lightly. "We're just finishing up."
"Your husband's quite the slave driver." William held out a hand to shake Eve's warmly. "If you hadn't come along, Reeanna and I would have to do without our dinner."
"That's William." Reeanna laughed. "He's either thinking of electronics or his stomach."
"Or you. Can you join us?" he asked Eve. "I thought we'd try the French place on the skyline level."
"Cops never eat." Eve tried to adjust herself to the easy social tone. "But thanks."
"You need regular fuel to help the healing process." Reeanna narrowed her eyes for a quick, professional survey. "Any pain?"
"Not much. I appreciate the personal service. And I wonder if I could speak to you for a few minutes on an official matter – if you have time after your meal."
"Of course." Curiosity flitted over her face. "Could I ask what it's about?"
"The possibility of doing a consult on a case I'm working on. If you're agreeable, I'd need to do it tomorrow, early."
"A consult on an actual human being? I'm there."
"Reeanna's weary of machines," William put in. "She's been making noises for weeks about going back into private practice."
"VR, holograms, autotronics." She rolled her beautiful eyes. "I long for flesh and blood. Roarke has us set up on the thirty-second level, west wing. I should be able to nudge William through a meal in an hour. Just meet me there."
"Thanks."
"Oh, and Roarke," Reeanna continued as she and William started toward the door. "We'd love to have that personal take on the new unit as soon as you can manage it."
"And she calls me a slave driver. Tonight, before I leave."
"Wonderful. Later, Eve."
"Food, Reeanna. I'm dreaming of coquille St. Jacques." William was laughing as he pulled her out of the door.
"I didn't mean to break up your meeting," Eve began.
"You didn't. And you've given me a breather before I have to dig into a mountain of status reports. I've had all the data on that VR unit you're concerned about transmitted. I've skimmed the surface, but I've found nothing out of line so far."
"That's something." She'd rest easier once she could eliminate that angle.
"William would be able to spot any problem quicker," he added. "But as he and Ree were in on the development, I didn't think you'd care to pass it by him."
"No. Let's keep it close."
"Reeanna was concerned about you. So am I."
"She gave me a going-over. She's good."
"Yes, she is." Still, he tipped Eve's face back with a fingertip. "You've got a headache."
"What's the point of illegal brain scans when you can already see into my head?" She closed her hand over his wrist before he could drop his arm. "I can't see into yours. It's annoying."
"I know." His lips curved as he pressed them to her brow. "I love you. Ridiculously."
"I didn't come here for this," she murmured when his arms wound around her.
"Take a minute anyway. I need it." He could feel the outline of the diamond around her neck, one she had worn first reluctantly, and now habitually. "That'll do it." He eased her back, pleased that she'd held on another moment. She so rarely held on. "What's on your mind, Lieutenant?"