In Death 02 - Glory in Death

stopped, and turned around. "Who the hell was that blonde he was wrapped around?"
    "I couldn't say." He sucked air through his teeth. "She was a looker though. Want me to rough him up for you?"
    "Just shut up." She jammed her hands in her pockets. "The commander's wife said they were having a small, private memorial at their home. How long do you figure this sideshow will take?"
    "Another hour, minimum."
    "I'm heading back to Cop Central. I'll meet you at the commander's in two hours."
    "You're the boss."
    Small and private meant there were more than a hundred people packed into the commander's suburban home. There was food to comfort the living, liquor to dull the grieving. The perfect hostess, Anna Whitney hurried over the moment she spotted Eve. She kept her voice down and a carefully pleasant expression on her face.
    "Lieutenant, must you do this now, here and now?"
    "Mrs. Whitney, I'll be as discreet as I possibly can. The sooner I complete the interview stage, the sooner we'll find Prosecutor Towers's killer."
    "Her children are devastated. Poor Mirina can barely function. It would be more appropriate if you'd -- "
    "Anna." Commander Whitney laid a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Let Lieutenant Dallas do her job."
    Anna said nothing, merely turned and walked stiffly away.
    "We said good-bye to a very dear friend today."
    "I understand, Commander. I'll finish here as quickly as I can."
    "Be careful with Mirina, Dallas. She's very fragile at the moment."
    "Yes, sir. Perhaps I could speak to her first, privately."
    "I'll see to it."
    When he left her alone, Eve backed up toward the foyer and turned directly into Roarke.
    "Lieutenant."
    "Roarke." She glanced at the glass of wine in his hand. "I'm on duty."
    "So I see. This wasn't for you."
    Eve followed his gaze to the blonde sitting in the corner. "Right." She could all but feel the marrow of her bones turn green. "You move fast."
    Before she could step aside, he put a hand on her arm. His voice, like his eyes, was carefully neutral. "Suzanna is a mutual friend of mine and Cicely's. The widow of a cop, killed in the line of duty. Cicely put his murderer away."
    "Suzanna Kimball," Eve said, battling back shame. "Her husband was a good cop."
    "So I'm told." With the faintest trace of amusement shadowing his mouth, he skimmed a glance down her suit. "I'd hoped you'd burned that thing. Gray's not your color, Lieutenant."
    "I'm not making a fashion statement. Now, if you'll excuse me -- "
    The fingers on her arm tightened. "You might look into Randall Slade's gambling problem. He owes considerable sums to several people. As does David Angelini."
    "Is that right?"
    "That's quite right. I'm one of the several."
    Her eyes hardened. "And you've just decided I might be interested."
    "I've just discovered my own interest. He's worked up a rather impressive debt at one of my casinos on Vegas II. Then there's a matter of a little scandal some years back involving roulette, a redhead, and a fatality on an obscure gaming satellite in Sector 38."
    "What scandal?"
    "You're the cop," he said and smiled. "Find out."
    He left Eve to go to the cop's widow and hold her hand.
    "I have Mirina in my office," Whitney murmured at Eve's ear. "I promised you wouldn't keep her long."
    "I won't." Struggling to smooth the feathers Roarke had ruffled, she followed the commander's broad back down the hall.
    Though his home office wasn't quite as spartan as the one at Cop Central, it was obvious that Whitney kept his wife's lush feminine taste at bay here. The walls were a plain beige, the carpet a deeper tone, and the chairs were wide and a practical brown.
    His work counter and console were in the center of the room. In the corner by the window, Mirina Angelini waited in her long sweep of mourning black. Whitney went to her first, spoke quietly, and squeezed her hand. With one warning glance at Eve, he left them alone.
    "Ms. Angelini," Eve began. "I knew your mother, worked with her, admired her. I'm very sorry for your loss."
    "Everyone is," Mirina responded in a voice as fragile and pale as her white cheeks. Her eyes were dark, nearly black, and glassy. "Except the person who killed her, I suppose. I'll apologize ahead of time if I'm of little help to you, Lieutenant Dallas. I bowed to pressure and let myself be tranq'ed. I am, as anyone will tell you, taking this rather hard."
    "You and your mother were close."
    "She was the most wonderful woman I've ever known. Why should I have to be calm and