Page 41 of Bonded in Death

She fought her way through knots of traffic, shoving up into vertical twice. Not in a particular hurry, she reminded herself, but had to resist the temptation to hit lights and siren out of sheer frustration.

When her mind wandered to her discussion with Nadine, she nearly gave in just to erase it from her brain.

“Fine, it’s fine. I did my job there, didn’t I? There are Friendship Rules, too. Marriage Rules, Friendship Rules. Family Rules? Sure there are. They probably vary, depending.”

Her world required rules, and she added them on when necessary.

She intended to bend one of them now. Not a real break, but a definite bend by using Roarke’s unregistered equipment.

She didn’t want the all-seeing eye of CompuGuard, and the eyes behind it, to see her poking into an Italian security company she suspected served as a front for covert operations.

Something specific to Italy? Possibly. Something more broad-based? Maybe Interpol.

She had a contact there, but wasn’t ready to tap it.

Covert agents and international police tended to clam right up if outsiders poked in.

She didn’t hold it against them.

The rain, steady and gray, dogged her all the way uptown, made the drive a running series of annoyances.

And gave way to sun as she turned into the gates of home.

A rainbow arched like a fairy tale over the castle Roarke built. It shined over the towers, the turrets of glistening stone. And still, after all this time, it could take her breath away.

How could this glory be home? Her home, the beaten, battered, broken child of monsters? What wild twist of fate had brought her here, to this wonder, this warmth, this welcome?

She’d started her day with death—and did so often—and she’d pursue the one who’d caused that death. But for a moment, just this moment, she could steep herself in the beauty.

The sheer miracle of beauty.

She rarely, if ever, took photos that didn’t pertain to the job. But she stopped on the long drive where the thick green leaves dripped rain, where the still thriving flowers stood heavy-headed with it. Andleaned out the window to take a shot of the house with its rainbow crown.

Maybe, she considered, when things got very bad, she could look at it and remember the miracle.

Now she had work, and it started with Summerset.

She left her car at the entrance, walked through the damp air to the grand front doors. And into the foyer.

He wasn’t there. No bony cadaver in black stood, looming, dark eyes cool—and scanning for bloody or ripped clothing. No fat cat sat by his feet.

“What the fuck! The one time.”

She turned to the house comp.

“Where the hell is Summerset?”

Darling Eve, Summerset is not in residence.

“Well, shit.”

I am unable to perform that function.

“Funny. Is Roarke in residence?”

Roarke has not yet returned. Shall I notify you when he does?

“No. Crap. Where’s the damn cat?”

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