In Death 09 - Loyalty in Death

off.
    "Oh hell." She swore again, viciously, and ripped the button free.
    There was a manic dance troupe doing a foot-stomping jig inside Eve's head. She gave a passing thought to rooting out a pain blocker. Then she walked into her office and saw Roarke.
    He sat in her ratty chair in his elegant suit. His equally elegant overcoat hung on her ugly coat rack. His eyes were clear, his voice smooth and alert, as he conducted whatever kind of business a man like him conducted at eleven o'clock at night.
    On principle, she rapped a fist against the supple Italian shoes currently making themselves at home on the top of her desk. She didn't budge them, but she made her point.
    "I'll have to get back to you on the details." His gaze skimmed over Eve. His sharp eyes saw everything. The fatigue, the headache, the simmering emotions held ruthlessly in check. "I have a meeting."
    He disconnected, lazily swung his feet to the floor. "Sit down, Lieutenant."
    "This is my office. I give the orders here."
    "Um-hmm." He rose to go to her AutoChef, and knowing she'd complain, programmed it for broth rather than coffee.
    "There was no point in your waiting."
    "Of course not."
    "You might as well go home. I'm not sure when I'll get there. I'll just bunk here."
    In a pig's eye, Roarke thought, but simply turned and handed her the broth.
    "I want coffee."
    "You're such a big girl now. You must know you can't have everything you want." He moved past her to the door, shut it just as she bristled at him.
    "What I don't need, in here, is a smart mouth."
    He winged up a brow. "Are you having yours removed? I'm so fond of it."
    "I can have two gorillas in uniform in here in thirty seconds. It would make their night to toss you out on your excellent ass."
    He sat in her spare chair, stretched out his legs as far as the cramped room would allow, and studied her face. "Sit down, Eve, and drink your broth."
    Because she caught herself, barely caught herself, before flinging the cup across the room, she did sit. "I just pounded on Zeke. For thirty minutes I beat him up the wall and down again. 'You wanted to fuck another man's wife. So you killed him to get him out of the way. He was a rich man, wasn't he? She'll be rich now. That oughta set you up just fine, Zeke. You get the woman, you get the money, and Branson gets a tasteful memorial service.' And that was before I got nasty."
    Roarke said nothing, simply waited her out. Eve picked up the broth. Her throat was raw, and it was better than nothing. "And when I finished hammering him, Peabody follows me into the John and thanks me for it. For Christ's sake."
    He rose because she'd dropped her throbbing head into her hands. But when his hands came down to rest on her shoulders, she tried to shrug them off. "Don't. I can't take any more understanding tonight."
    "That's a pity." He lowered his lips to the top of her head. "You've been training Peabody for months now. Do you think she doesn't know how your mind works?"
    "Right now I don't know how the hell it works. She -- Clarissa -- she said he'd beaten her, raped her. Whenever he wanted. For years. Over and over for years."
    Roarke's fingers tightened on her shoulders before he controlled them, gentled them. "I'm sorry, Eve."
    "I've heard it before, from witnesses, suspects, victims. I can handle it. I can deal with it. But every time, every goddamn time, it's like a fist in the gut. Right under the guard and into the gut. Every time."
    For a moment, just a moment, she let herself lean back, into him, into the comfort. "I have to keep going here." She rose, moved away from him. "You shouldn't have called in your spiffy lawyer, Roarke. It's sticky. This whole deal is very, very sticky."
    "She cried on my shoulder. Sturdy, stalwart Peabody. Would you ask me to turn away from that?"
    Eve shook her head. "Okay." She pressed her fingers to her eyes, willing the headache away. "We'll deal with it. I'm going to call Nadine."
    "Now?"
    After blowing out a breath, Eve turned back. Her eyes were clear again. "I'm going to offer her a one-on-one, right here, right now. She'll jump at it, and we'll have our spin on this right out of the box."
    She walked back to the 'link to make the call. "Go home, Roarke."
    "I will. When you do."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    He bullied her into going home. Or she let him think he did. Zeke had been released on his own recognizance and was to report to Dr. Mira's office at nine a.m. Clarissa was tucked in a private room at her swanky