Page 96 of Treachery in Death

“He has a healthy account in that name, and another, smaller—I’d say backup money—in another under Jacoby Lucerne—the street where he lived as a child. Lucerne is Australian. Between the three—Garnet, Jacoby, Lucerne—they’re worth in the neighborhood of sixty million. Not bad on a cop’s pay.”

“And he called me a whore,” she murmured.

Roarke eased onto her desk. “I’d be very sorry if that hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt me. It’s a pisser of biblical proportions to be called a whore by that motherfucker.”

“All right then.”

“Renee?”

“A bit more time there. She’s smarter, and a great deal more clever than Garnet. I think I have her, but I want to finish verifying and gathering it up. You’re not going to ask how I came by the data on that disc?”

“No. You told me you straddled the line, so you straddled it. Sorry about the headache.”

“That’s what blockers are for. I have Bix on the disc as well. That took some doing, and I’m really going to want costumes. He’s not smarter than Garnet, necessarily, but his ass was surely more covered.”

“That’s interesting.”

“It is. He doesn’t really spend the money, but banks it. Several accounts, various names, nationalities. He has a little place in Montana. A cabin, really, worth a fraction of his partner’s home away from home. And an all-terrain. Collects weapons under several of his aliases, so none of them cause much of a ripple. Added together, it’s quite the arsenal. Still, nothing flashy for Bix.”

“It’s not about the money for him. It’s about the chain of command.”

“I’ve started on the others, made considerably more headway tonight. But I thought you’d be most interested in those three.”

“You’d be right. Anything on Brinker?”

“Brinker.” Roarke’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Ah, yes. He’s the little chateau in Baden-Baden—going back to his roots, I’d say—the manor house in Surrey, and the three mistresses.”

“Three? No wonder he’s asleep at his desk.” So, Lilah’s instincts were off there. “Asserton or Sloan?”

“No, nothing as yet—and as I haven’t had a single hit on either, there’s likely not to be.”

“Agree. Shift them over, push the rest. We serve Garnet up to IAB tomorrow, garnish him with the charges stemming from tonight’s temper tantrum with me. He’s cooked. What you’ve got? It’s the sauce.”

“The clever cooking analogy doesn’t distract me from the fact you don’t want to serve him up alone. You want Renee sharing the platter.”

“Be tastier,” she admitted, then waved a hand. “We’ve got to get off the food stuff. I’d rather have her nailed before I take Garnet in. Her, and the rest. But it’s not an absolute. He’ll flip if I need him to flip, and he’ll still go away a good, long time. If you’re done with this for the night, no problem.”

“And I look like the weak sister?”

“Don’t make me smile again. It hurts.”

“I’ll finish it. If I get further along, I should be able to program it to complete the task while we both get some sleep.”

“I need to contact Webster.”

“Eve,” Roarke said as she reached for her ’link. “He’s with Darcia.”

“Yeah, so? He needs to . . .” She broke off, winced as she had when her lip throbbed. “You think they’re having sex?”

“Oh, at a wild, what-the-hell sort of guess? Yes. Very likely.”

“I can’t think about that. I don’t want to know that. I know what he looks like when he has sex.”

Roarke flicked a finger on the top of her head. “I wonder why I need to be reminded of that.”

This time she pressed her fingers to her lip to hold it as it throbbed since she couldn’t quite swallow the laugh. “I’m just saying. I like how you look having sex better.”

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