J. Robb - Betrayal in Death

"If you don't get him here, you'll get him there. He's contracted one of our own site decorators to outfit the place, and has a consult set four days from now. He's reserved a suite at the main casino hotel in three days' time. I've a line on private craft booked into the transpo station there. There's only one scheduled in from New York. I've transferred all the information to your home unit."

"I'm on it."

They separated into two teams, with McNab working with Roarke in his office on the security analysis. Eve kept Peabody with her as she outlined the best strategy for moving in on Yost. Feeney moved between the teams.

"The timing makes it clear Yost is waiting to go off planet until after the heist. Feeney, ask Roarke if Yost would be entitled to a share of the take over and above the assassin's fee, since one hooked to the other."

If he found anything odd about her consulting Roarke on that sort of criminal ethics, he didn't mention it.

"Says Yost could be entitled to a bonus based on the take, but that would be transferred to him after the merchandise was transported and fenced."

"Okay, so why's he hanging? Probably wants to be certain it goes off smooth, and he's not required for any more work. And there's still Summerset on his slate. He'll be tuned to the media for news of the theft. I need to bring in Nadine."

They worked straight through until her team threatened to revolt without proper nourishment. Eve ate half a sandwich while working at her computer. She refused to budge until she'd read everything through one last time.

"Lieutenant, your eyes are going to bleed. Computer, save and hold data." Then Roarke swung her chair around before she could countermand his order. "It's after eight. You're exhausted, and the mind will only hold so much at a go. Send your team home and take a break."

"They can go. There are just a few more things I want to look over. Is Nadine still here?"

"No, she had to be on-air. You covered it with her, and she'll plant your story. You've covered everything twice over and more."

"Maybe. Where is everybody?"

"McNab's down in the kitchen talking Summerset out of a second dessert before he heads to the hotel. Peabody's taking a swim at my suggestion to clear her head, and Feeney's in my office working because his head's very nearly as hard as your own. There's nothing more you can do tonight."

"If there's not it's because I've overlooked it. I want to get some men up to Olympus, into the transpo station in case Yost gets by us here. I'll let Agent Stowe decide which end she wants to take when I fill her in."

"Which won't be until tomorrow, as you don't want her filled in too soon. Feeney," he called out and began to knead his wife's knotted shoulders. "Go home."

"In a minute. Dallas, we ought to alert Space Traffic Control in case Yost detours on his way to Olympus."

"We alert STC, it's one more tongue to wag," she called back. "You got any secure contacts with them?"

"I'll work on it. I used to have this…" He trailed off as he stepped in and saw Roarke bent over Eve, rubbing her shoulders. "Ah, well, you know, I think I'll head out now. I can give Peabody a lift."

"She's in the pool," Roarke told him, not so gently holding his wife down when she tried to rise.

"Yeah." Feeney's face brightened. "Wouldn't mind a quick dip myself."

"Go right ahead. You're going to eat," Roarke said to Eve.

"I did."

"A half-sandwich isn't sufficient." He glanced over as he heard voices. "Fine. We have company. You can have some soup while Mavis entertains you."

"I don't have time for – " She broke off, sighed. Mavis was already whirling into the room on six-inch platform slides that exploded with colored lights at every bouncing step.

"Hey, Dallas, hey, Roarke. Just ran into Feeney, and he said you were wrapped for the day."

"Not really, I still have some stuff. Why don't you play with Roarke while I finish up?" Her pleasure at the inspiration fractured when another woman, this one with twelve-inch coils shooting out of her head in screaming red, strolled in.

"Trina," Eve managed, and her stomach clutched with dread.

"We came by to give you the scoop and poop up close and personal," Mavis announced. "Trina got the line on the products and all, like you asked me. Right, Trina?"

"Right, and right down the line."

"That's great." It's going to be okay, Eve thought. It's just business. "What have you got?"

"Tell her, Trina. Oh, wine! Roarke, you are total." She plunked her pretty butt in its crotch-shot skirt on Eve's desk and beamed at him as he handed around glasses of wine.

"Okay," Trina began. "You got your Youth supercover foundation, burnt honey tone, your mocha, same product. You can get them at any high-end department store or salon. Then you got your unisex powder, in both loose and compact. He went for Deloren there – that's mostly sold in salons and spa centers, 'cause it's too pricey for the regulars."

"How many spots in New York?"

"Oh, two, three dozen easy. He's got fine taste in enhancements. Cheek color's are Deloren, Youth and a nice rose quartz from Salina. The eye stuff – "

"Trina, I appreciate all this, but can you fine it down to whichever products you tagged that have limited distribution? Any stuff in there only sold wholesale maybe?"

"I'm getting to it." Trina curled her lips, currently painted vampire black. "Here's a guy who likes to experiment with enhancements, and isn't afraid to pay top dollar. Gotta admire that. From the looks of the video, he took the basics, and a few fancies. He keeps them all organized, so I could deduce…"

She held on to that word a moment, savoring it. "I could deduce he favors Youth and Natural Bliss. NB's hypo-allergenic, all natural, and costs two left arms. Can't buy it over-the-counter. Can't get it unless you're a licensed consultant. Salon use only, not for resale. So this guy either has a license or a source 'cause he's got some of those salon-use-onlys in his drawer."

As did she, Trina thought smugly. "Happens I get it from Carnegy Enhancement Supplies on Second Avenue when I've got a client who can pay the fee."

She paused, sipped. "And it happens I took the trouble to call my pal there and ask her, on the quiet, about her customers for the products your guy had, or I figured were missing from the drawer. She said it was funny I should ask, 'cause she just got in an order for those exact products from one of her regulars. A big bald guy who comes in once or twice a year and picks up a supply. Pays in cash. Says he's got a salon in south Jersey."

Eve got slowly to her feet. "Did he pick up the order?"

"Nope. Coming in for it tomorrow, before noon. Told her to have it all put together as he was pressed for time. Ordered twice his usual, too."

"Roarke, get this woman some more wine."

"We did good?" Mavis asked, bouncing.

"You did fantastic. Trina, I need the name of your pal. I need her cooperation."

"Fine by me. But I got a question. How come you insult me?"

"Insult you? I was about to kiss you."

"How come you don't take care of my work? Look at you." Trina aimed a finger, tipped by a one-inch sapphire nail. "You look like something dragged under a maxibus. Skin's all tired, circles under your eyes."

"I've been working."

"What's that got to do with it? You can't take five minutes twice a day to show some respect for my work? When's the last time you used that exfoliant I gave you, or the pump lotion, or the stress repair?"

"Ah…"

"Bet you haven't had time to rub on the breast cream either." She turned on Roarke. "Some reason you can't slap some on your hands before you feel her up?"

"I do try," he said, throwing Eve to the wolves without a qualm. "She's a difficult woman."