In Death 09 - Loyalty in Death

"Wanna?"
    "I didn't get all polished up so you could leave fingerprints all over me."
    He smiled and cupped her breast. "Darling, I never leave prints."
    During the evening of dinner and conversation, Eve managed to slip away long enough to request a warrant to access data on Lisbeth Cooke's finances. She cited the sizable inheritance as cause and got lucky with a judge who either agreed with her or was too tired to argue the point.
    As a result, she was alert and edgy when they arrived home.
    "I've got some stuff I want to check out," she told Roarke when they walked into the bedroom. "I'm going to change and work in my office awhile."
    "On...?"
    "I asked for a warrant to access Cooke's financial data." She wiggled out of the dress, tossed it aside, then stood there, much to her husband's interest, in two tiny scraps of black and high leather boots. "It came through during the dessert course."
    "I must have a whip around here," he murmured.
    "A what?"
    Grinning, he started toward her, amused when her eyes narrowed threateningly. "Keep your distance, ace. I said I have work."
    "I can access that information in half the time you can. I'll help you out."
    "I didn't ask for help."
    "No. But we both know I can do it faster and interpret it without getting a tension headache. And all I want in return is one little thing."
    "What little thing?"
    "That when we're finished you're still wearing this very interesting getup."
    "Getup?" She glanced over, caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and blinked in shock. "Jesus, I look like -- "
    "Oh yes," Roarke agreed. "Yes, you do."
    She looked back at him, struggled to ignore the slick ball of lust the gleam in his eyes caused. "Men are so weird."
    "Then have pity on us."
    "I'm not parading around in my underwear so you can cook up some sordid little fantasy."
    "That's all right," he said as she snatched up a robe and bundled into it. "It's already cooked. We can do this faster in my office."
    As she belted the robe, she eyed him suspiciously. "Do what faster?"
    "Why, access the data, Lieutenant. What else?"
    She refused to acknowledge the little tug of disappointment. "This is official business. I want the search initialized from my machine."
    "You're the boss." He took her hand to lead her out.
    "Just remember that."
    "Darling, with what you're wearing under that robe forever imprinted on my memory, how could I forget?"
    "All roads," she said dryly, "don't lead back to sex."
    "The best ones do." He gave her butt a friendly pat as she preceded him into her office.
    Galahad was curled up in her sleep chair. The cat raised his head in obvious annoyance at the disturbance. Since neither of them headed for the kitchen, he closed his eyes again and ignored them.
    She slid the warrant into a slot on her computer, engaged it. "I know how to do a financial search. You're just here to interpret and tell me if you think she's got anything buried under layers."
    "I'm here to serve."
    "Cut that out." She dropped into the chair at her desk and called up Lisbeth Cooke's case file. "Hold current data," she ordered, "and initiate search of financial records on subject's name and identification number. All accounts, cash, credit, and debit. Start with one-year period back from this date."
    Working....
    "Personal property?" Roarke asked.
    "I'll get to it. We'll do the bucks first."
    Data complete. Cooke, Lisbeth has four cash/credit accounts active.
    "Scroll data on-screen."
    Acknowledged....
    Eve made a low sound as the data popped. "Over two million in New York Security, another one and a half in New World Bank, just under a mil in American Trust, and a quarter million in Credit Managers."
    "The last would be for living expenses," Roarke told her. "The other three are security and brokerage type accounts. Primarily long-term investments, managed by financial teams endorsed by those particular institutions. It's smart business. She's mixing high risk, big gain, with conservative interest income."
    "How can you tell that from the names of the banks and the amounts in them?"
    "It's my business to know the nature of banks. If you break this down to the next level, you'll see she likely has a balanced mix of stocks, bonds, mutuals, and fluid cash to float into new investments as the market fluctuates."
    He ordered the breakdown himself and tapped a finger on the screen. "There, you see she believes in her own company. There's a healthy chunk of stocks in Branson T and T, but she hedges her bets.