Reunion in Death

All those people, she thought, that he brushed against in any given day. Business associates, staff, employees, waiters, assistants, and assistants to assistants. However brilliant his security, there was always a crack to slither through.

But he was aware of that, she reminded herself, on the most elemental level. The way a tiger would be aware of both predator and prey in his own jungle.

And if she allowed herself to worry into fear over him, she'd miss something.

She sat again, cleared her mind.

In the first wave of Julianna Dunne's killings, she had assumed the role of society princess. A young, glamorous butterfly who'd flitted among the abundant blooms of the wealthy. As one of them, Eve mused.

Her new pattern was efficient employee. Smart, Eve conceded. People rarely took full notice of those who served them. She would stick with that, Eve thought. Almost certainly stick with that level. Server, clerk, domestic.

Whoever the next target, she would likely find her way into his business or his home through his company.

Preferred method, poison. Old-fashioned poison, Eve added. Why? You didn't get your hands dirty that way, and most usually had the opportunity to watch it work. See the shock, confusion, pain. The victim understood a blaster or a blade when it came for him. But poison was subtle, even elegant. And it confused.

But you didn't bop into your local 24/7 and pick up a bottle of cyanide. It was time to track down the source.

Before she did, there was a little business to clear up. She put in a call to Charles Monroe.

The handsome licensed companion picked up on his pocket-link. Eve could hear the murmuring of voices, the quiet clink of china and crystal of a classy restaurant as his face filled the screen.

«Lieutenant Sugar.» He beamed. «What a nice surprise.»

«You got company?»

«Not quite yet. Client's late, she usually is. What can I do for my favorite avenger of the law?»

«Have you got any professional pals or associates in the Chicago area?»

«Dallas, when one is in the oldest profession, one has pals and associates everywhere.»

«Yeah. Well, I need one who's willing to go to Dockport Rehabilitation Center, do a conjugal for an inmate, for the standard police scale.»

His face, his tone, went all business. She saw him move, glance down, and knew he'd taken out an e-book. «Male or female companion?»

«Female inmate seeks attractive man with staying power for conjugal episode.»

«Time frame?»

«Within the next couple of weeks would be good. Sooner the better. The budget will spring for a two-hour call, no frills, and basic transpo.»

«Since I doubt the police are overly concerned with this woman's sexual health, I assume this is payment for information or cooperation in some ongoing investigation.»

«Assume whatever.» Her face, her tone, mirrored his now. «I need the contact. Can you reach out to an associate in that area? One who can handle himself. She's just after a solid bounce, but she has a violent tendency and I don't want to put anybody green in this situation.»

«I could, but why don't I just take care of it for you? I'm certainly not green, and I owe you enough favors to cover this.»

«You don't owe me anything.»

«I owe you Louise,» he corrected, and everything in his face brightened on her name. «Give me the information I'll need, and I'll work it into my schedule. On the house for you, Lieutenant Sugar.»

She hesitated. It felt weird to book him for sex. To think of his developing romance with the dedicated Dr. Louise Dimatto while she arranged to send him off for a conjugal with Maria Sanchez.

This friendship gig was almost as complicated and boggy as the marriage gig.

It was his job, Eve reminded herself. And if it didn't bother Louise, why should it bother her?

«You'll get scale. I want to keep this on the books. Maria Sanchez,» she began, and gave him the information he'd need. «I appreciate this, Charles.»

«No, you're embarrassed, and that's very sweet of you. Give my love to Peabody, and I'll give your best to Louise. My lunch and bounce client's just walked in. If there's nothing else, I'd as soon not be talking to a cop when she gets to the table. These are the things that can mar the delicate balance of a romantic afternoon.»

His lips curved when he said it, and made Eve shake her head. «Let me know when you've nailed down the date and time and if you get any hassles with the arrangements at Dockport. Warden there's an asshole.»

«I'll keep that in mind. Later, Lieutenant Sugar.»

When he ended transmission, she made the next call on her list. Directing it, purposefully, to Nadine Furst's voice mail, Eve left a terse message.

«You got a one-on-one, my office, sixteen hundred. Sharp. No live feed. If you're late, I'll have something better to do.»

She pushed away from the desk, strode out, and swung by Peabody's cube. «With me» was all she said.