Page 73 of Treachery in Death

“There’s tonight. If you’re free, and interested.”

“I’m both. What would you like to do?”

“I happen to have two orchestra seats for a play—a musical. Broadway musical is on my New York checklist.” She lifted the glass of champagne she’d indulged in. “You weren’t. But I made an addendum.”

“Luckiest day of my life.” He was still riding on the thrill of it. “If I were to visit Olympus, what should I put on my checklist?”

“Hmmm, drinks rooftop of the Apollo Tower. The view is stunning. Horseback riding along Athena Lake, with a picnic in its young forest. Me. Will you visit Olympus?”

“Will you have drinks with me on the rooftop, ride with me along the lake, picnic with me in the forest?”

“I will.”

“I have some time coming. There’s something I have to wrap up first. Once I do, I’ll put in for it.”

“Then I’ll show you my world.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Is it foolish, Don, what we’re doing here, what we may be starting here?”

“Probably.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “I don’t care, Darcia.”

“Neither do I.” On a half laugh, she shook her head. “It’s so unlike me. I’m a practical woman.”

“And the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She laughed fully, delightedly. “Your eyes are dazzled—I suppose mine are, too. I’m sitting here in this lovely restaurant in this exciting city, and all I can think is I’m sitting here with this handsome man who can’t take his eyes off me.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather look at.”

“Handsome, charming man,” she added. “But looks, even charm, are only the surface.”

“You’ve got an amazing surface, and I like everything I’ve found under it so far.”

“It’s only our second date,” she reminded him, and her eyes sparkled like her wine. “There’s more.”

“I’m looking forward to discovering you, Darcia. We don’t have to rush it. Well, hard to rush it anyway when we’ll be on two different planets—or a planet and a satellite—in a few days.”

“I like to take things slowly, carefully. The job, as you know, can be difficult, demanding, so in my personal life I prefer the uncomplicated.”

She lifted her champagne again, smiling at him over the pale gold bubbles. “I didn’t ask you into my hotel room last night because this—you and I—this will be complicated.”

“I’ve been taking a break from complicated myself, in the personal area. But I want to see you again, spend time with you. I want to see what happens next.”

“I’ve given some thought to what happens next. And since I know what I’d like that to be, I’ll be asking you into my room tonight.”

He smiled back at her. “I was hoping you would.”

With the data Webster passed to her, Eve ran an analysis of Accounting for Renee’s squad. Then an analysis of the analysis. The flood of numbers, the puzzlement of percentages gave her a headache. And still she couldn’t see a clear pattern. She couldn’t see enough to point a finger at anyone in charge of the accounts.

She toggled away from that—maybe if she let the numbers rest they’d make more sense to her—and took another sweep through Renee’s squad. There she believed she saw a pattern, where Detective Lilah Strong, a rookie uniform, and two other detectives stood as abnormalities.

She needs clean cops, Eve calculated. To handle the piddly stuff, to turn in legit reports—and as fall guys when she needs or wants them. Use them, then lose them. One way or another.

She thought of Gail Devin, glanced at Peabody.

Her partner was in it deep and would stick, Eve knew, no matter how long it took, no matter how many layers needed to be shifted through.

She looked at her board.

On one side, Rickie Keener. Loser, criminal, junkie, low-life pig. But he was hers now.

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