J. Robb - Immortal in Death

Mavis missed a beat, caught up. "Oh, then it's all right. You didn't believe him."

"I haven't decided that, but the evidence, at this point, keeps him clear."

"Thank God." Mavis slid down onto the bed beside Eve. "When can I see him, Dallas? Leonardo and I have to work things out between us."

"That may take a little time." Eve squeezed her eyes shut, opened them again, made herself look at Mavis. "I have to ask you for a favor, the biggest anyone's ever asked you."

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Yeah." Eve watched Mavis's attempt at a smile fade away. "I have to ask you to trust me to take care of you. To believe that I'm so good at my job that nothing, however small, will get past me. I have to ask you to remember you're my closest friend, and that I love you."

Mavis's breath started to jerk. Her eyes stayed dry, burning dry. The saliva evaporated from her mouth. "You're going to arrest me."

"The lab reports came in." She caught Mavis's hands, held them hard in hers. "They weren't a surprise, because I knew someone had set things up. I was expecting this, Mavis. I hoped I could find something – anything – before it did, but I haven't been able to. Feeney's working on it, too. He's the best, Mavis, trust me here. And Roarke's already lined up the top defense lawyers known to man. It's just procedure."

"You have to arrest me for murder."

"It's murder two. That's a small break. I know it doesn't sound like one, but the PA's office isn't going to try to block bail. I'll have you back here eating cake in a few hours."

But her mind was replaying one segment, over and over. It's murder two. It's murder two. "You have to put me in a cage."

Eve's lungs were burning, and the sensation was rapidly moving toward her heart. "Not for long. I swear it. Feeney's working right now to get the preliminary hearing up and running. He's got plenty of markers he can pull in. By the time we've got you through booking, you'll have the hearing, the judge will set bail, and you'll be back here."

Wearing an ident alarm to track her movements, Eve thought. Trapped in the house to avoid the stalking media. The cage would be plush and friendly, but it would still be a cage.

"You make it sound easy."

"It's not going to be easy, but it'll be easier if you remember you've got a couple of top cops on your side. Don't waive any of your rights, okay? Any of them. And once we start this, you wait for your lawyers. Don't say anything to me you don't have to say. Don't say anything to anyone. Understand me?"

"All right." Mavis drew her hands away, rose. "Let's get it over with."

Hours later, when it was done, Eve stepped back into the house. The lights were low. She hoped Mavis had taken the tranq Eve had recommended and gone to sleep. Eve already knew she wouldn't do the same.

She knew Feeney would have followed her request to pass Mavis personally over to Roarke. There had been other work to do. The press conference had been particularly hideous. As expected, questions about her friendship with Mavis had been brought up, conflict of interest hinted at. She owed the commander a great deal for the appearance he'd put in and his statement of absolute faith in his primary investigator.

The one on one with Nadine Furst had been a little easier. All you had to do, Eve thought glumly as she climbed the stairs, was save a person's life, and they were happy to take your side. The blood lust for the story might have been in Nadine's heart, but so was a sense of debt. Mavis would get fair treatment from Channel 75.

Then Eve had done something she had never believed she would do. She had voluntarily called the police psychiatrist and made an appointment to talk with Dr. Mira.

Could still cancel it, she reminded herself and rubbed her gritty eyes. Probably will cancel it.

"You're quite late, Lieutenant, after an eventful day."

She dropped her hands and saw Summerset step silently out of a room to her right. He was, as usual, dressed in his stiff black, his stern face set in disapproving lines. Hating her seemed to be something he did with almost as much seamless skill as he ran the household.

"Don't hassle me, Summerset."

He stepped directly into her path. "I had believed, though you have countless flaws, you were, at least, a competent investigator. I see now, you are not, any more than you are a competent friend to one who depended on you."

"You really think after what I've been through tonight that you can say anything to touch me?"

"I don't believe anything touches you, Lieutenant. You're without loyalty and that makes you nothing. Less than nothing."

"Maybe you've got a suggestion of how I could have handled it. Maybe I should have had Roarke fire up one of his JetStars and shoot Mavis off planet to some remote little hideaway. Then she could be on the run for the rest of her life."

"At least then she might not have wept herself to sleep."

The arrow pierced, directly under the heart where it had been aimed. Pain shimmered through fatigue. "Get out of my way, you bastard, and keep out of my way." She shoved by him, but stopped herself from running. She walked into the master bedroom just as Roarke was replaying her press conference on screen.

"You did well here," he said and rose. "Under tremendous pressure."

"Yeah, I'm a real pro." She walked into the bathroom, then stood staring at herself in the mirror. She saw a woman, pale face, dark, shadowed eyes, grim mouth. And she saw beyond it to helplessness.

"You're doing everything you can," Roarke said quietly from behind her.

"You got her good lawyers." Ordering water cold, she leaned down, splashed it liberally over her face. "They juggled me through Interview. I was tough. Gotta be tough. But they've got some moves on them. Next time I've got to grill a friend, I'll be sure to sign them up."

He watched her bury her face in a towel. "When's the last time you've eaten?"

She merely shook her head. The question had no relevance. "The reporters were out for blood. Someone like me's very juicy game. Couple of high-profile cases, I come out on top. Some of them would just love to see me take it between the eyes. Think of the ratings."

"Mavis doesn't blame you, Eve."

"I blame me," she exploded, heaving the towel aside. "I blame me, goddamn it. I told her to trust me, I told her I'd take care of things. How did I take care of it, Roarke? I arrested her, I booked her. Prints, mug shots, voice ident, all of it on file now. I put her through a horrible two-hour interview. I locked her in a cell until the lawyers you hired for her got her out on bail you posted. I hate myself."

She broke, simply broke. Covering her face with her hands, she began to sob.

"It's about time you let go." Briskly, he scooped her into his arms and carried her up to the bed. "You'll feel better for it." He kept her cradled in his arms, stroked her hair. Whenever she cried, he thought, it was a storm, a passionate tumult. Rarely were there a few easy, quiet tears for Eve. Rarely was anything easy for Eve.

"This isn't helping," she managed.

"Yes, it is. You'll purge some of that misplaced guilt and some of the grief you're entitled to. You'll think more clearly tomorrow."

She was down to shuddering breaths and a raging headache. "I have to work tonight. I'm going to run some names and scenarios for probability."

No, he thought quite calmly, she won't. "Take a minute. Get something to eat." Before she could protest, he was shifting her aside and moving to the AutoChef. "Even your admirable system needs fuel. And there's a story I want to tell you."

"I can't waste time."

"It won't be wasted."

Fifteen minutes, she thought, as the scent of something glonous wafted toward her. "Let's make it a quick meal and a short story, okay?" She rubbed at her eyes, not sure if she was ashamed or relieved to have let the cork pop and spew out the tears. "Sorry I blubbered on you."