In Death 06 - Vengeance in Death

needed the law, the order, the discipline, the rules. Her Childhood had been without any of them, and the early years that she had so successfully blanked out for so long had begun to hurtle back at her, viciously, violently, over the past months.
    Now she remembered too much, and still not all.
    Roarke, she imagined, remembered all, in fluid and perfeet detail. He wouldn't allow himself to forget what he'd been or where he'd come from. He used it.
    His father had been a drunk. And so had hers. His father had abused him. And so had hers. Their childhoods had been smashed beyond repair, and so they had built themselves into adults at an early age, one standing for the law, and one dancing around it.
    Now they were a unit, or trying to be.
    But how much of what she had made herself, and he had made himself, could blend?
    That was about to be tested, and their marriage, still so new and bright, so terrifying and vital to her, would either hold or fail.
    She drove the rest of the way, parking at the base of the old stone steps. She left her car there, where it consistently annoyed Summerset, and carried a small box of file discs into the house.
    Summerset was in the foyer. He would have known the moment she'd driven through the iron gates, she imagined. And he would have wondered why she'd stopped for so long.
    "Is there a problem with your vehicle, Lieutenant?"
    "No more than usual." She stripped off her jacket, and out of habit, tossed it over the newel post.
    "You left it in front of the house."
    "I know where it is."
    "There is a garage for the purpose of storing vehicles."
    "Move it yourself. Where's Roarke?"
    "Roarke is in his Fifth Avenue office. He's expected home within the hour."
    "Fine, tell him to come up to my office when he gets here."
    "I'll inform him of your request."
    "It wasn't a request." She smirked as she watched Summerset pick up her jacket by the collar with two reluctant fingers. "Any more than it's a request when I tell you to make no plans to leave the city until further notice."
    A muscle in his jaw twitched visibly. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Lieutenant?"
    "Oh, yeah, it's a bucketful of laughs for me. A couple of dead guys, one of them slaughtered on my husband's property, both of them old pals of his. I've been breaking up over it all day." When he stepped forward, her eyes went to dangerous slits. "Don't get in my face, old man. Don't even think about it."
    The core of his anger simmered out in one terse sentence. "You interrogated Ms. Morrell."
    "I tried to verify your piss-poor alibi."
    "You led her to believe I was involved in a police investigation."
    "News flash: You are involved in a police investigation."
    He drew air audibly through his nose. "My personal life -- "
    "You've got no personal life until these cases are closed." She could read his embarrassment clearly enough, and told herself she didn't have time for it. "You want to do yourself a favor, you do exactly what I tell you. You don't go anywhere alone. You make certain you can account for every minute of your time, day and night. Because somebody else is going to die before much more time passes if I can't stop it. He wants the finger to point at you, so you make sure it doesn't."
    "It's your job to protect the innocent."
    She'd started up the stairs and now she stopped, turned back until their eyes met. "I know what my job is, and I'm damned good at it."
    When he snorted she came down two steps. She came down slowly, her movements deliberate, because her own temper was much too close to the boil. "Good enough to have figured out why you've hated the sight of me since I first walked in that door. Since you understood Roarke had feelings for me. Part A was easy -- a first-year rookie could have snagged onto it. I'm a cop, and that's enough for you to hold me in contempt."
    He offered a thin smile. "I've had little reason to admire those in your profession."
    "Part B was tougher." She came down another step so that their eyes were level. "I thought I had that figured, too, but I didn't realize that Part B had a couple of stages. Stage one: I'm not one of the glamorous, well-bred stunners that Roarke socialized with. I haven't got the looks or the pedigree or the style to suit you."
    He felt a quick tug of shame, but inclined his head. "No, you don't. He could have had anyone, his pick of the cream of society."
    "But you didn't want just anyone for him, Summerset. That's stage two, and I just figured that out this