In Death 06 - Vengeance in Death

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    When he turned, his eyes were brilliantly blue, and fury rode in them along with the grief. "Find who did this to him. I can trust you for that."
    "Yeah, you can."
    A smile touched his lips, curved them. "Lieutenant Dallas, standing for the dead, as always." He skimmed a hand through her hair, lifting a brow when she caught it.
    "You'll leave this to me, Roarke."
    "Have I said otherwise?"
    "It's what you haven't said that's just beginning to get through." She knew him, knew him well enough to understand he would have his own ways, his own means, and very likely his own agenda. "If you've got any ideas about going out on your own, put them to bed now. It's my case, and I'll handle it."
    He ran his hands up her arms in a way that made her eyes narrow. "Naturally. But you will keep me apprised? And you know that I'm available for any assistance you might require."
    "I think I can stumble through on my own. And I think it would be best if you took a step back from this one. A long step back."
    He kissed the tip of her nose. "No," he said pleasantly.
    "Roarke -- "
    "Would you prefer I lied to you, Eve?" He picked up the hard copy while she fumed, handed it to her. "Go to work. I'll make a few calls. I'd think by the end of the day I should have a complete list of Tommy's associates, professional and personal, his enemies, his friends, his lovers, his financial status, and so forth." He was leading her across the room as he spoke. "It'll be easier for me to accumulate the data, and it'll give you a clear picture."
    She managed to hold her ground before he pushed her out the door. "I can't stop you from accumulating data. But don't step out of line, pal. Not one inch."
    "You know how it excites me when you're strict."
    She struggled back a laugh and nearly managed a glare. "Shut up," she muttered, and shoved her hands in her pockets and she strode away.
    He watched her, waited until she'd disappeared at the stairs. Cautious, he turned to the security monitor and ordered view. The laughter was gone from his eyes as he watched her jog down the steps, snag the jacket Summerset had laid back over the newel post for her.
    "You're forgetting an umbrella," he murmured, and sighed when she walked into the thin drizzle unprotected.
    He hadn't told her everything. How could he? How could he be certain it was relevant, in any case? He needed more before he risked tangling the woman he loved in the ugliness of his own past, his own sins.
    He left his office, heading for the communications room that was both expansive and illegal. Laying his palm on the security screen, he identified himself then entered. Here, the equipment was unregistered and any activity would be undetected by the all-seeing eye of CompuGuard. He needed specifics in order to plan his next step, and sitting in the deep U of a sleek black control center, he began.
    Invading the system of NYPSD was child's play for him. He sent a silent apology to his wife as he accessed her files, dipped into the medical examiner's office.
    "Crime scene video on screen one," Roarke ordered, easing back. "Autopsy report, screen two, primary investigating officer's report, screen three."
    The horror of what had been done to Brennen swam on screen, made Roarke's eyes go cold and flat. There was little left of the young man he'd known a lifetime before in Dublin. He read Eve's clipped and formal report without emotion, studied the complex terms of the preliminary report from the ME.
    "Copy to file Brennen, code Roarke, password my voiceprint only. Off screen."
    Turning, he reached for his in-house tele-link. "Summerset, come up please."
    "On my way."
    Roarke rose, moved to the window. The past could come back to haunt, he knew. Most often it remained in some ghostly corner waiting to strike. Had it slipped out to strike Tommy Brennen? he wondered. Or was it just bad luck, bad timing?
    The door slid open and Summerset, bony in black, stepped through. "Is there a problem?"
    "Thomas Brennen."
    Summerset's thin lips frowned, then his eyes cleared into what was nearly a smile. "Ah yes, an eager young hacker with a love of rebel songs and Guinness."
    "He's been murdered."
    "I'm sorry to hear that."
    "Here in New York," Roarke continued. "Eve is primary." Roarke watched Summerset's mouth set and flatten. "He was tortured, kept alive for the pain. Disemboweled."
    It took a moment, but Summerset's already pale face whitened a shade more. "Coincidence."
    "Maybe, hopefully." Roarke indulged