In Death 04 - Rapture in Death

Eve removed her communicator, turned away, and requested display only. It took longer and was, she felt, less effective. The coding through of information and request. How could you add your instincts, your determination to a display?
    But she did her best and waited.
    What the hell are you trying to do, Dallas, override Mira?
    I want another opinion, Commander. It's well within procedure. I'm pursuing all angles. If I'm unable to convince the PA to charge Jess with coercion to self-terminate, I don't want the lesser charges to slide. I need verification of intent to harm.
    It was pushing it, and she knew it. Eve waited with a knotted stomach while Whitney mulled over his decision.
    Just give me the opening, she thought. He needs his ears pinned back. He needs to pay.
    You're cleared to proceed on my authorization, Lieutenant. This better not be a waste of budget. We both know Mira's report will weigh heavily.
    Understood and appreciated. Dr. Ott's report will give Barrow's lawyer a headache, if nothing else. I'm currently working on detailing connection between suspect and victims. Results will be available by nine hundred hours.
    Be damn sure of it. My butt is now swinging with yours. Whitney out.
    Eve let out a long, quiet breath. She'd bought a little more time, and that was all, she admitted to herself, she was after. With time, she could dig deeper. If Roarke and Feeney couldn't pull out data, there was no one, off or on planet, who could.
    Jess would pay, but murder would go unavenged. She closed her eyes a moment. And that was where she stood. Avenging the dead.
    She opened her eyes again, wanting to align herself before she relayed the details to Reeanna.
    That's when she saw it, in black and white there on the computer monitor.
    Mathias, Drew logged as AutoPhile. Mathias, Drew logged as Banger. Mathias, Drew logged as HoloDick.
    Her heartbeat jerked, but her hand was steady as a rock as she switched her communicator from off to open, signaling to Peabody and Feeney on code one. Backup required. Respond immediately to transmission source.
    She pocketed the card, turned. "The commander okayed the consult. Reluctantly. I'm going to need results, Reeanna."
    "You'll get them." Reeanna sipped her brandy, then shifted her gaze to the sleek little unit on her desk. "Your heart rate just spiked, Eve, and your adrenaline level rose dramatically." She angled her head. "Oh dear," she murmured, and lifted her sparkling hand. It held an official NYPSD stunner. "That's a problem."
    Several floors above, Roarke scanned the new data on Mathias, hummed over it. Now we 're getting somewhere, he thought. He switched back to auto and tuned in to the data on the new VR unit. Wasn't it odd, he thought, and interesting, that some of the components on Jess Barrow's magic console so closely mirrored the components of his new unit?
    Then he swore softly when his interoffice 'link buzzed.
    "I don't want interruptions."
    "I'm sorry, sir. There's a Mavis Freestone here. She claims you'll see her."
    He switched the second computer to auto, blocked both audio and video. "Let her in, Caro. And you can log out for the day. I won't need you anymore."
    "Thank you. I'll bring her back directly."
    Roarke frowned to himself, idly picked up the VR unit Reeanna had left him to try out. A few adjustments, he mused. Improved for the next release. It was loaded with subliminal options, and could explain the coincidence of similarity. Still, he didn't care for it. He began to consider a possible leak in his R and D division.
    He wondered just what William had come up with as alterations for the second manufacturing run and tucked a disc into his alternate unit. It wouldn't hurt to run the data while he saw just what Mavis had on her mind.
    His machine beeped acceptance, began to upload as his door opened. Mavis whirled in like a freak storm.
    "It's my fault, all my fault, and I don't know what to do."
    Roarke came around the desk, took Mavis's hands, and sent an understanding look at his baffled assistant. "Go on home. I'll deal with this. Oh, and leave the security open for my wife, please. Sit down, Mavis." He steered her to a chair. "Take a breath." Reading her accurately, he patted her head. "And don't cry. What's all your fault?"
    "Jess. He used me to get to you. Dallas said it wasn't my fault, but I've thought about it, and it is." She gave one long, heroic sniffle. "I've got this." She held up a disc.
    "And this is?"
    "I don't know. Maybe