In Death 07 - Holiday in Death

unlicensed whore."
    "No, we did our best to find him like-minded women."
    "And when you didn't, and they complained, you paid them off," Eve finished. "Is that what you wanted to do, or was it Rudy?"
    "It was business. Rudy understands the business better than me."
    "Is that how you live with it? Or maybe neither one of you could live with it anymore. Was he with you the night Donnie Ray was killed? Can you look at me and swear he was with you all that night?"
    "Rudy couldn't hurt anyone. He couldn't."
    "Are you so sure, so sure, you'll risk another death? If not tonight, then tomorrow."
    "Whoever is killing these people is insane -- vicious, cruel, and insane. If I thought it could be Rudy, I couldn't live. We're part of each other, so it would be in me the way it's in him. I couldn't live." She covered her face with her hands. "I can't stand any more of this. I won't talk to you. If you accuse Rudy, you accuse me, and I won't talk to you."
    Eve rose, but paused by the chair for a moment. "You're not half of a whole, Piper, whatever he's told you. If you want a way out, I know someone who can help you."
    Though she felt it was a useless attempt, she took one of her own cards and noted Dr. Mira's name and number on the back. She left it on the arm of the chair and walked away.
    Her emotions were in upheaval when she got into her car. She took a moment to settle them, then glanced at her wrist unit. Not much time, she mused, but enough.
    She used her personal porta-'link rather than her car unit and tagged Nadine.
    "What do you want, Dallas? I'm under the gun here. The press conference is in an hour."
    "Meet me at the D and D, bring your crew. Fifteen minutes."
    "I can't -- "
    "Yeah, you can." Eve broke transmission and drove downtown.
    She'd picked the Down and Dirty Club partly for sentiment, partly because it would be fairly private on a midweek afternoon. And the proprietor was a friend who would see that she wasn't hassled.
    "What you doing here, white girl?" Crack, all six and a half feet of him, grinned at her. His face was dark and homely, his scalp recently shaved and oiled to a mirror gleam. He sported a vest of peacock feathers, leathers so snug she wondered his balls weren't bruised, and shin-breaking boots in cherry red.
    "Got a meet," she told him and did a quick scan of the club. It was mostly empty, but for the six dancers practicing a routine on stage and a scatter of customers who -- being what they were -- marked her as a cop in the time it takes to pick a tourist's pocket in Times Square.
    She imagined several ounces of illegals would shortly be swimming into New York's sewer system.
    "You bringing more cops into my place?" He glanced over as two skinny dealers made a beeline for the Johns. "Somebody's business gonna suffer tonight."
    "I'm not here for a bust. I got press coming. Got a privacy room we can use?"
    "You got Nadine coming down? Now, she be fine. You use room three, honeypot. I look out for you awhile."
    "Appreciate it." She glanced over her shoulder as the door opened, letting in sunlight, Nadine, and a camera operator. "It won't take long."
    Eve pointed toward the room and strode over and in without waiting for Nadine's assent.
    "You frequent such interesting places, Dallas." Wrinkling her nose, Nadine stared at the stained walls and rumpled bed -- the only piece of furniture the room could boast.
    "You liked the place well enough, as I recall. Enough to strip down to your undies and dance on stage."
    "I was impaired at the time," Nadine said with some dignity when her operator snickered. "Shut up, Mike."
    "You got five minutes." Eve sat on the side of the bed. "You can either hit me with questions or I'll give you a straight statement. I'm not going to give you more than what we'll release at the press conference, but you'll have it on a good twenty minutes before anyone else. I'm also giving you the go-ahead to use data already discussed."
    "Why?"
    "Because," Eve said quietly, "we're friends."
    "Step outside a minute, Mike." Nadine waited until he'd finished grumbling and had closed the door behind him. "I don't want any pity favors."
    "That's not what this is. You kept the deal, holding information until I cleared it. I'm keeping my end. That's professional. I trust you to report the truth. That's professional. I like you, even when you're irritating. That's personal. Now, do you want the one-on-one or not?"
    Nadine's smile bloomed slowly. "Yeah, I want it. I like you, Dallas, and