by J. D. Robb
"Maybe you recognize the name John B. Boyd." Because her eyes were trained on Piper's face, she saw it. The flicker of knowledge, the shadow of guilt. "Your system is top of the line. So you told me. It would be your responsibility to do a search for this kind of information on an applicant. Is your company irresponsible or inept, Ms. Hoffman?"
"I don't like the tone of that question," the lawyer protested.
"So noted for the record. Your answer, Piper?"
"I don't know what happened." Her breath came quickly now, and both hands were crossed over her beautiful breasts. "I don't know."
Oh yes, Eve thought. Yes, you do, and he scared the hell out of you.
"Four clients of your service are dead. Four. Each one of them came to you, and each one of them was terrorized, raped, and strangled."
"It's a terrible, terrible coincidence. Just a coincidence." Piper began to shake, with her breath hitching out in little forced gasps. "Rudy said so."
"You don't believe that." Eve said it softly as she leaned closer. "You don't believe that for a minute. They're dead." Brutally, she laid four photos on the table. The crime scene shots were vivid and cruel. "These don't look coincidental, do they?"
"Oh God. Oh God." She covered her face with her hands. "Don't, don't, don't. I'm going to be ill."
"That was uncalled for." Red-cheeked with fury, the lawyer sprang up.
"Murder's uncalled for," Eve tossed back and got to her feet. "I'll give your client a few minutes to compose herself. Record, off." She turned her back and walked out.
As she watched through the glass, she buzzed Feeney's communicator.
"I've got her on the edge," she said when he joined her. "You can push her over. I'd go in light, sympathetic, be her uncle."
"You always get to be the bad cop," Feeney complained.
"I'm better at it. Pat her hand, then ask her why they were paying Holloway off. I didn't get there yet."
"Okay. Rudy's holding tight. He's got a snippy attitude you ask me. Arrogant little putz."
"Good. I'm in the mood to kick some putz." Since it was there, she reached into Feeney's bag of nuts and popped a handful. "She claims they didn't know about Holloway's record. She's lying, but that might get us into their system. I'll try for the warrant before I hit Rudy."
She took time for that and one quick jolt of coffee before going into Interview B. "Record on," she ordered. "Interview continuing with Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Initialize time and date."
She sat, smiled at Rudy and the lawyer at his side. "Well, boys, let's get started."
She ran him through a pattern similar to what she'd used on Piper. Rather than paling and shaking, Rudy seemed to go stiffer, harder.
"I'd like to see my sister," he said abruptly, interrupting her rhythm.
"Your sister is being interviewed."
"She's delicate. Her emotions are very close to the surface. This entire ugly business will damage her."
"I've got four people a lot more damaged, ace. Are you worried what Piper has to say in there? I talked to her just a bit ago." Instinct had her leaning back, shrugging a shoulder. "She's not holding up real well. She'll do better once you clear things up."
Eve watched his hands fist and wondered what Mira would conclude about his violence potential.
"She should be allowed to rest." He bit off the words, his exotic green eyes flat as a cat's. "To have a soother and a meditation break."
"We're not big on meditation breaks around here. And she's got her lawyer in there, just like you've got yours. I guess you're pretty close, being twins."
"Naturally."
"Holloway ever make a move on her?"
Rudy's mouth thinned. "Of course not."
"On you maybe?"
"No." He reached for his glass of water with a steady hand.
"Why were you paying him off?"
The water slopped toward the rim before he hastily set it down. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Regular payments, ten thousand each, over a two-year period. What did he have on you, Rudy?"
His eyes stormy, he whirled to his lawyer. "They have no right to access financial records, do they?"
"Certainly not." The lawyer leveled his shoulders, hooking a hand pompously in his lapel, where trendy medallions dangled. "Lieutenant, if you've searched my client's financials without probable cause and proper warrant -- "
"Did I say that?" Eve only smiled. "I don't have to explain how I came by certain information that pertains to this homicide. You won't find a departmental search of financials. But you paid him, didn't you, Rudy?" She swung back, hitting low and fast. "You paid him time after time, let him blackmail you into putting him on match lists when you knew he was a sexual deviant. How many clients did you have to placate, or pay, or intimidate to keep the wraps on it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." But his hand wasn't quite so steady now as he picked up the water in front of him. Dark red streaks of emotion began to burn along the milk-white skin.
Eve knew if she'd had him on a truth tester, the graph would have cracked through the screen.
"Yes, you do. And I bet it wouldn't be too tough for me to dig out a couple of your clients who Holloway jumped during one of those nice, polite meets you recommend. Once I do, I can charge you and your sister for soliciting, for fraud, for accessory to several types of sex crimes." She shot a look over. "And your lawyer knows I can make at least some of that stick, and it'll stick long and hard enough to put your business in the sewer, to put your face, and Piper's, on every screen in the city for newsflashes."
"We can't be held responsible. She can't be held responsible for what that. .. that deviant did."
"Rudy." The lawyer held up a hand, then laid it on Rudy's shoulder. "I'd like a moment to confer, Lieutenant."
"No problem. Record off. You got five," she warned and left them alone.
With her eyes on them through the glass, she pulled out her communicator. "McNab."
While she waited for response, she rocked back and forth on her heels, judging the body language inside the room. Rudy had his arms crossed, his fingers digging into his biceps. The lawyer was hunched over, talking fast.
"McNab. I'm heading in, Dallas."
"Then head back. I'm getting a warrant to put you into the system at Personally Yours. Wait for it."
"Can I take a six-eight? Grab some lunch?"
"Hit a glide-cart on the way back. I want you in place the minute the authorization comes in." She heard his sigh and smiled thinly. "How was the facial, McNab?"
"Great. I got cheeks like a baby's ass. And I saw Peabody naked. Well, mostly. She was coated with green shit, but I got the picture."
"Just put that picture out of your mind and get ready to dig."
"I can do both. Hell of a picture. She's really pissed, too."
Eve did her best not to grin back at him, and shut him off before she lost the battle.
"Time's up, pal," she murmured and walked back into Interview. After resetting the record, she sat down, lifted a brow. Sometimes silence worked a subject better than hammering.
"My client wishes to make a statement."
"That's what we're here for. So, what do you have to say, Rudy?"
"Brent Holloway was extorting money from my company, through me. I did my best to protect my clients, but he was blackmailing me and part of what he demanded was regular consultations and matches. He was, in my opinion, difficult and irritating, but not dangerous to the women we matched him with."
"That's your professional opinion?"
"Yes, it is. We advise all our clients to meet their matches in a public place. Any who agreed to meet him privately subsequent to that were making their own decision. All clients sign a waiver."
"Uh-huh, so you figure that covers your ass, ethically speaking. I'm pretty sure the courts may have a different view. But let's get to the meat first. What did he have on you?"
"It's not relevant."
"
Oh yeah, it is."
"It deals with my personal life."
"It deals with homicide, Rudy. But if you don't want to tell me about it, I'll go back and talk to your sister." She started to rise, but Rudy's hand flew out and gripped her arm.
"Leave her alone. She's delicate."
"One of you will talk to me. Your choice."
His fingers tightened on her arm, dug in hard before he released it and sat back. "Piper and I have a unique and special relationship. We're twins. We're connected." He kept his eyes level. "We're matched."
"You and your sister have a sexual relationship."
"It's not for you to judge," he snapped. "Nor do I expect you to understand the bond between us. No one can. And though what we have together isn't strictly illegal, society disapproves."
"Incest isn't a pretty word, Rudy." The image of her father, his face red with effort, his eyes hard with purpose, flashed into her mind. Under the table she clenched her hands into fists and forced the image, and the sickness it caused, back.
"We're matched," he said again. "For most of our lives we refused to act on what was in our hearts. We tried to be with other people, to live separate lives. And we were miserable. Are we supposed to be unhappy, unfulfilled, because people like you say it's wrong?"
"It doesn't matter what I say, or what I think. How did Holloway find out?"
"It was in the West Indies. Piper and I had taken a vacation. We'd been careful. We're discreet. We understand that we'd lose clients if they knew. We'd gone away where we could have a little time alone together, to be free to be together openly as any other couple can. Holloway was there. He didn't know us, nor we him. We had registered under different names."
He paused, sipped his water. "A few months later he came in for a consult. It was just... fate. I didn't even recognize him at first. But after his screening, when the data on him showed up and we refused his application, he reminded us where we'd met, and how."
Rudy stared into his water, shifted the glass from hand to hand. "He was very clear as to how it would be handled, what he wanted. Piper was destroyed, terrified. We both believe very strongly in the service we provide. You see, we know just what it means to be matched with someone who fills your life, who makes the difference in it. We're dedicated to helping others find what we have."
"Your dedication's earned you a nice fat portfolio."
"Making a profit doesn't negate the worth of the service. You live well, Lieutenant," he said quietly. "Does that negate the worth of your marriage?"
Walked into that one, she told herself, but only lifted her eyebrows. "Let's talk about you and how you handled Holloway."
"I wanted to stand against him, but she couldn't." He closed his eyes. "He managed to get her alone, to threaten her. He even tried to induce her to ..."
He opened his eyes again, and they were brimming with fury. "He wanted her. His kind, they want what belongs to someone else. So we paid, we did everything he demanded. Still, if he came in and caught her alone, he would touch her."
"You must have hated him for that."
"Yes. Yes, I hated him for that. For everything, but most of all for that."
"Enough to kill him, Rudy?"
"Yes," he said evenly before his lawyer could stop him. "Yes, enough to kill him."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"We don't have enough to charge him."
She knew it. Damn it, she knew it, but Eve went to battle with the assistant prosecuting attorney anyway.
"He's got the means, he's got the opportunity, and God knows he had a motive with Holloway. He had access to the enhancements used on all four victims," she continued before APA Rollins could speak. "He knew all of them."
"You don't even have a decent circumstantial case against him." Carla Rollins held her ground. She was barely five-two, despite the skyscraper heels she habitually wore. Her eyes were the color of blackberries, exotically slanted in a round face. Her complexion was creamy and smooth, her figure neat, her hair a ribbon-straight ebony that fell precisely one inch above her slim shoulders.
She looked, and sounded, like a child care professional, and had a core as tough as moon rock. She liked to win, and didn't see a victory inThe State v.Hoffman.
"You want me to bag him when he's got his hands around the next victim's throat?"
"That would be handy," Rollins said evenly. "Barring that, get me a confession."
Eve paced the length of Whitney's office. "I can't get you a confession if we spring him."
"So far all he's guilty of is banging his sister," Rollins said in her soft, sweet voice. "And paying blackmail. Maybe we could cook him on illegal and unlicensed solicitation since he knew Holloway's predilections, but it's a stretch. I can't give you murder, Dallas, without more evidence or a confession."
"Then I need to sweat him longer."
"His lawyer's called for a humane break. We can't hold him any longer today," she added as Eve snorted. "You can pick him up again tomorrow, after the standard twelve hours out."
"I want a bracelet on him."
This time Rollins sighed. "Dallas, I don't have cause to order a security bracelet on Hoffman at this time. At this point he's only a suspect, and not a solid one at that. He's entitled, under the law, to his privacy and freedom of motion."
"Christ, give me something." Eve dragged both hands through her hair. Her eyes were burning from lack of sleep, her stomach raw from caffeine. Her still-healing wound was throbbing. "I want him tested and profiled. I want Mira to do him."
"It'll have to be voluntary." Rollins held up one delicate hand before Eve could swear at her. She was used to cops swearing at her, and it didn't particularly bother her. But she was thinking, and didn't want the interruption. "I might be able to convince his attorney it's in his best interest. Cooperation in this area would influence the PA's office not to pursue the solicitation charges."
Satisfied with the idea, Rollins rose. "Clear it with Mira, and I'll see what I can do. But spring him, Dallas, within the hour."
Whitney waited until Rollins breezed out, then shifted in his chair. "Sit down, Lieutenant."
"Commander -- "
"Sit," he repeated and jabbed a finger at the chair across from his desk. "I'm concerned," he began when she took her seat.
"I need more time to squeeze him. McNab's working the system at Personally Yours. We could have something by the end of the day."
"You concern me, Lieutenant." He leaned back as Eve frowned. "You've been on this case nearly twenty-four/seven for more than a week."
"So has the killer."
"It's unlikely the killer is still recovering from life-threatening wounds received in the line of duty."
"My health chart's clear." She heard the edge of resentment in her own voice and took a careful breath. If she couldn't maintain with Whitney, she'd only prove his point. "Your concern is appreciated, sir, but unnecessary."
"Is it?" He lifted his brows as his sharp eyes scanned her face. Pale, shadowed, running up fast on exhaustion, was his considered opinion. "Then you're willing to go down to the clinic and take a physical?"
The resentment bounced back, all but vibrating down to the fingers she fought not to curl into fists. "Is that an order, Commander Whitney?"
He could make it so. "I'll give you a choice, Dallas. Take the physical, abide by the results, or go off duty until oh nine hundred tomorrow."
"I don't consider those viable options at this time."
"One or the other, or I take you off the case."
She nearly sprang from the chair. He saw her bunch and brace then vibrate. But she stayed in her seat. Color rushed into her face, but it didn't stay long. "He's killed four times, and I'm the only one who's close to knowing him. You take me off, we lose time. And we lose people."
"It's your choice, Dallas. Go home," he said more quietly. "Get a decent meal and some sleep."
"And while I'm doing that, Rudy walks."
"I can't hold him, I can't bracelet him
. But that doesn't mean I can't put a tag on him." Now Whitney smiled a little. "He'll be watched. And tomorrow, we'll hold a press conference. You called that right, Dallas. The mayor and the chief will bare the brunt of it, but you'll get flack."
"I can handle it."
"I know. We'll release as many details as we can to alert the public." He lifted his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. "Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men." He let out a short laugh. "Go home, Dallas. You're going to need to be fresh tomorrow."
She went because the alternatives were unacceptable. She couldn't back off from the case, and she couldn't risk a departmental physical. Whatever she said out loud, she had a suspicion she wouldn't pass one at the moment.
She ached all over, enough to warn her she was going to have to break down and take a painkiller to get through. Worse, she couldn't quite focus, not now that she was in the car and heading home. Her head insisted on floating somewhere inches above her shoulders.
When she nearly clipped a glide-cart while making the turn onto Madison, she shifted into auto and let the program guide her through traffic.
Okay, so maybe she needed a nap and a little fuel. But being off duty didn't mean she couldn't run some more scans and searches; it didn't mean she couldn't work on her own from her home office.
She needed more coffee and something solid in her stomach, that was all.
And she nearly nodded off as the car slid through the gates and up the drive toward the house.
The lights in the windows blazed against the dark and made her eyes smart. Her head pounded like the back beat in one of Mavis's more enthusiastic numbers. Her shoulder thrummed.
When she stepped out of the car, her legs felt rubbery and disconnected. Because she felt weak, her mood was foul as she pushed through the grand front door.
And there was Summerset.
"Your guests have already arrived," he announced. "You were expected twenty minutes ago."
"Kiss my ass" was her best suggestion as she stripped off her jacket and deliberately dropped it over the newel post.
"The prospect holds no appeal for me. One moment of your time, however, Lieutenant." He simply stepped in front of her before she could head up the stairs.
