In Death 04 - Rapture in Death

hurt you again."
    "Roarke." She pushed back the urge to go to him, close her arms around him. It wasn't what the moment called for, she decided. Or what he wanted. "This can't be personal."
    "Yes." He drew in smoke, blew it out slowly. "It can. And is."
    "Lieutenant." Peabody stepped in, her face bland. "The MTs are here. With your permission, I'll accompany the suspect to the health center."
    "I'll go."
    "Sir." Peabody slid a glance toward Roarke. He'd yet to take his eyes off Eve, she noted. And those eyes looked more than a little dangerous. "If you'll excuse me, I believe you have more pressing matters here. I can handle this. You still have a number of guests in the house, including the press. I'm sure you'd prefer this matter remain quiet until its disposition."
    "All right. I'll contact Central from here, make the necessary arrangements. Prepare for second phase interview tomorrow, nine hundred hours."
    "I'm looking forward to it." Peabody glanced over at Jess, lifted a brow. "He must have hit his head pretty hard. Still looks dazed, skin's clammy." She offered Roarke a wide smile. "I know just how that feels."
    Roarke laughed, feeling more of the tension drain away. "No, Peabody. In this case, I don't believe you do."
    He got up, walked to her and, framing her square face with his elegant hands, kissed her. "You're beautiful," he murmured before turning to Eve. "I'll see to the rest of our guests. Take your time."
    As he walked out, Peabody touched her fingertips to her lips. Pleasure had radiated down to her toes and out through the reinforced tips of her boots. "Oh wow. I'm beautiful, Dallas."
    "I owe you, Peabody."
    "I think I just got paid." She stepped back to the door. "Here come the MTs. We'll get our boy out of here. Tell Mavis she was absolutely ultra."
    "Mavis." Eve pressed her fingers to her eyes. How was she going to tell Mavis?
    "If I were you, Dallas, I'd give her tonight to glow. You can tell her about this later. She'll be fine. In here," she called, gesturing. "We got us what looks like a mild concussion."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    Getting a warrant for search and seizure at two in the morning was a tricky business. She lacked the straightforward data to cop an automatic clearance and needed a judge. Judges tended to be cranky about calls in the middle of the night. And trying to explain why she needed clearance for a sweep and scan of a music console currently on her own premises was a dicey job.
    This being the case, Eve tolerated the clipped, angry lecture from her judge of choice.
    "I understand that, Your Honor. But this can't wait until a decent hour in the morning. I have a strong suspicion that the console in question is linked to the deaths of four people. Its designer and operator is currently being detained, and I cannot expect his immediate cooperation."
    "You're telling me music kills, Lieutenant?" The judge snorted. "I could have told you that. The crap they're pumping out these days could murder an elephant. In my day, we had music. Springsteen, Live, Cult Killers. That was music."
    "Yes, sir." She rolled her eyes. She'd had to pick a classic music buff. "I really need that warrant, Your Honor. Captain Feeney is available to begin the initial scan. The operator had admitted to using the console illegally, on the record. I need more to tie it to the cases in question."
    "You ask me, those music consoles should be banned and burned. This is piddly shit here, Lieutenant."
    "Not if the evidence bears out my belief that this console and its operator are linked to the death of Senator Pearly and others."
    There was a pause, a wheeze. "That's a big leap. No pun intended."
    "Yes, sir. I need the warrant to bridge the gap."
    "I'll send it through, but you better have something, Lieutenant. And it better be solid."
    "Thank you. Sorry to have disturbed -- " The 'link clicked in her ear, forcefully. "Your sleep," she finished, then picked up her communicator and tagged Feeney.
    "Hey, Dallas." His face was flushed with fun, wide with a grin. "Where ya been, kid? Party's just breaking up. You missed Mavis doing a set with a hologram of the Rolling Stones. You know how I feel about Jagger."
    "Yeah, he's like a father to you. Don't take off, Feeney. I've got a job for you."
    "Job? It's two a.m., and my wife's feeling, you know -- " He winked sloppily. "Interested."
    "Sorry, put the glands on hold. Roarke will arrange to have your wife taken home. I'll be up in ten. Take a dose of Sober-Up if you need