In Death 03 - Immortal in Death

and with it a surprising and unexpected twinge of jealousy. "You know her."
    "You could say that."
    "Well."
    He cocked a brow, not so much warily as with amusement. She was sitting up now and scowling down at him. For the first time in their relationship, he sensed a hint of green in the look. "There was a time -- briefly." He scratched his chin. "It's all very vague."
    "Bull."
    "It could come back to me. But you were saying?"
    "Is there any exceptionally beautiful woman you haven't slept with?"
    "I'll make you a list. So, you knocked her down."
    "Yeah." Eve regretted now pulling her punch. "She's squealing and whining, then Mavis comes in and Pandora goes for her. The two of them are pulling hair and scratching; Leonardo's wringing his hands."
    Roarke tugged her down on top of him. "You lead such an interesting life."
    "The upshot is, Pandora threatens Leonardo: he ditches Mavis for her or she's going to wreck this fashion show he's counting on. Apparently he's sunk everything into it, borrowed from spine crackers, too. She blackballs the show, he's ruined."
    "Sounds just like her."
    "After Pandora leaves, Mavis -- "
    "Were you still naked?"
    "I was getting dressed. Mavis decides to make the supreme sacrifice. It was all pretty dramatic stuff. Leonardo declares his love, she starts crying and runs out. Jesus, Roarke, I felt like some pervert with surveillance goggles. I got Mavis settled in my old apartment, at least for the night. She doesn't have to be in to the club until tomorrow."
    "Stay tuned," he murmured and smiled at her blank look. "The old daytime dramas. Always end on a cliff-hanger. What is our hero going to do?"
    "Some hero," Eve muttered. "Damn it, I like him, even if he is a pussy. What he'd like to do is bash Pandora's head in, but he'll probably cave. Which is why I thought we could put Mavis up here for a few days if she needs it."
    "Sure."
    "Really?"
    "It is, as you've often pointed out, a big house. I'm fond of Mavis."
    "I know." She gave him one of her quick, rare smiles. "Thanks. So, how was your day?"
    "I bought a small planet. I'm joking," he said when her mouth fell open. "I did, however, complete negotiations for a farming commune on Taurus Five."
    "Farming?"
    "People have to eat. With a bit of restructuring, the commune should be able to provide grain to the manufacturing colonies of Mars, where I have a sizable investment. So, one hand washes the other."
    "I guess. Now about Pandora..."
    He rolled her over and tugged the shirt he'd already unbuttoned off her shoulders.
    "You're not distracting me," she told him. "Just how brief is brief in this case?''
    He gave what passed for a shrug and nibbled his way from her mouth to her throat.
    "Is it like a night, a week..." Her body flashed hot when he closed his mouth over her breast. "A month -- Okay, now you're distracting me."
    "I can do better," he promised. And did.
    Visiting the morgue was a lousy way to start the day. Eve strode down the silent, white tiled halls trying not to be annoyed that she'd been called in to view a body at six A. M.
    Worse, it was a floater.
    She paused at a doorway, holding her badge up for the security camera, and waited for her ID number to be accessed and approved.
    Inside, a single technician waited near a wall of refrigerated holding drawers. Most would be occupied, she thought. Summer was always a hot time for dying.
    "Lieutenant Dallas."
    "Right. You got one for me."
    "Just came in." With the careless cheer of his profession, he moved to a drawer, coded for view. Locks and refrigeration blipped off, and the drawer, with its occupant, slid out with a small burst of icy fog. "Uniform on scene thought she recognized him as one of yours."
    "Yep." In defense, Eve drew breath in and out of her mouth. Seeing death, violent death, was nothing new. She wasn't sure she could have explained that it was easier, less personal somehow, to study a body where it had fallen. Here, in the pristine, almost virginal surroundings of the morgue, it was all more obscene.
    "Johannsen, Carter. Aka Boomer. Last known address the flop on Beacon. Petty thief, professional weasel, occasional dealer in illegals, and pitiful excuse for a humanoid." She sighed as she studied what was left of him. "Well, hell, Boomer, what did they do to you?"
    "Blunt instrument," the tech said, taking her question seriously. "Possibly a pipe or a thin bat. We'll have to finish testing. A lot of strength behind the blows. Only spent a couple hours at