Calculated in Death

Exposure there wouldn’t do more than embarrass him. It wouldn’t hurt his bottom line, would it?”
    “Business-wise? I can’t see how. He’d been seen as something of a hypocrite, but that’s personal. Still, pride again.”
    Pride, she thought. One of those seven deadly again. “So maybe part of it is payments to or gifts to the mistress, or housing, travel, what have you. And how he’s pulling that money from the business. An audit would show that.”
    “It would.”
    “Murder over that?” She shook her head. “People kill for less than nothing, but Jesus, it doesn’t feel like enough for this. Not enough for other people to be involved and invested.”
    “I agree. There must be enough money at stake to spread around, and I’m wondering if that, too, may be long term. Or planned to be. Even before murder, it’s a lot to risk unless the rewards are fat enough.”
    “So, it goes back to the books, the audit. Okay. You should focus on Alexander and Pope, see what you can dig up. And you were going to do that anyway.”
    “I was, yes.” He smiled at her. “I’ll leave the rest to you.”
    “You talked a good case.”
    “I’m flattered, Lieutenant. If I’m right, will I get a promotion?”
    “If you’re right I’ll fix dinner
and
clear the dishes. Not pizza,” she added at his long look.
    “Acceptable. How’s the shoulder?”
    “It’s fine. A little sore,” she admitted.
    He moved to her, brushed his lips over her shoulder, then drew her in. And just held her.
    “I’ve done my share of cheating, of stealing. For survival, and for the fun.”
    She knew it. She knew him. “How many innocent mothers of two have you killed?”
    “None so far.” He drew her back. “I won’t apologize for cheating and stealing or regret those days are done. Because here I am with you, and there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”
    “Naked on a tropical beach?”
    “Well, now that you mention it.” When she laughed, he touched her lips with his. “But no, not even there. Just right here, right now.”
    “It’s a good place.”
    “And we can see about that tropical beach after the holidays, which are coming right along.”
    “I can’t think about the holidays.” The idea had panic rising up in her belly. “I don’t even want to think about this premiere deal everybody’s all jazzy about.”
    “We’ll have some fun with it. Try not to get any more bruises between now and then. Your dress shows a lot of skin.”
    “See? One more thing to worry about? I’m going to look for a mistress.”
    “I’ll look for corporate misdeeds. And we’re already having fun.”
    She poured more coffee, and since Roarke settled at her desk, once again took the auxiliary station. She noted Galahad had come in at some point and now stretched out like overfed roadkill on her sleep chair. And all around the office Roarke had designed for her to resemble her old apartment, her old comfort zone, the big, beautiful house stood quiet.
    No, she thought, there wasn’t anywhere else she’d rather be, right here and now.
    She wrote up her notes first, reviewed, fiddled, then shot them off to Peabody. After reading her partner’s notes, she took a few minutes, feet up, eyes on the board to consider everything Roarke had said.
    Young-Sachs too lazy, Biden too proud, Pope too self-effacing (and potentially just too honest).
    Highlight on Sterling Alexander.
    Maybe, she thought. Just maybe. And if so, the probability ran high that folded in Jake Ingersol and Chaz Parzarri. Smaller possibility, but still possibly, Robinson Newton, playing fast and loose with one of his partner’s clients.
    She looked forward to her first face-to-face with Parzarri. That could turn the tide here. Kick him when he’s down, she decided. Hurting, weakened after a serious accident.
    Maybe try to convince him it wasn’t an accident, though she’d vetted the report. A trio of just-out-of-college guys, drunk, celebrating a minor win at the casino, plowed straight into the cab transporting Parzarri and Arnold from their own casino trip back to their convention hotel.
    Everybody involved did some hospital time, and she’d found nothing on the three drunk idiots to lead her to conclude they’d been hired to bash up a couple of auditors and themselves.
    Just an accident, the luck of the draw, and an innocent woman was dead.
    Yeah, she thought, yeah, she could use that, all that to try to crack Parzarri.
    Meanwhile, she’d take