In Death 10 - Witness in Death

but she's still got blind sides. And she's going to get really pissed off when she finds out I said anything to you about it. She'll jam that stick up her ass and freeze me out, but damn it -- "
    "She matters," he shot back. "She matters to you. Doesn't it occur to you that she could matter to me?"
    "Women are a business to you."
    "When they pay me to be my business. It isn't like that with Delia. For Christ's sake, we don't even have sex."
    "What? She can't meet your fee?" As soon as it was out, she hated herself. Hated herself more when she saw those cool eyes register simple hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That was wrong. That was way off."
    "Yeah, it was."
    Suddenly tired, she scooted down and sat on the floor with her back against the wall. "I don't want to know this stuff. I don't want to think about this stuff. I like you."
    Intrigued, he lowered to the floor, his back to the counter so their knees almost brushed. "Really?"
    "Yeah, mostly. You've been seeing her since before Christmas, and you haven't... What's wrong with her?"
    He laughed, and this time it was easy and rich. "Jesus, Dallas, which way do you want it? I have sex with her, I'm a bastard. I don't, I'm a bastard. Roarke was right."
    "What do you mean, Roarke was right?"
    "You can't figure women." He took a drink of his wine. "She's a friend. It just happened that way. I don't have many friends who aren't clients or in the business."
    "Watch yourself. They start to multiply when you're not paying attention. It complicates your whole damn life."
    "You're a good friend. One more thing," he said and gave her foot an easy pat. "I mostly like you, too, Lieutenant Sugar."
    The nightmare came. She should have expected it. Areena's talk of dreams and blood and terror triggered it. But even knowing, she could never stop it once it slid into her mind.
    She saw him come into the room. Her father. That nasty little room in Dallas, so cold, even with the temperature gauge stuck on high. But seeing him, smelling him, knowing he'd been drinking, but not drinking enough, had sweat popping out on her chilled arms.
    She dropped the knife. She'd been so hungry, so hungry it had been worth the risk of finding a snack. Just a little piece of cheese. The knife fell out of her hand, took days, years, centuries to reach the floor. And in the dream, the clatter of it was like thunder that echoed. Echoed. Echoed.
    Across his face as he walked to her, the red light from the sign washed red, then white, then red.
    Please don't please don't please don't.
    But it never did any good to beg.
    It would happen again and again and again. The pain of his hand smashing almost casually across her face. Hitting the floor so hard it rattled her bones. And then his weight on top of her.
    "Eve. There now. Eve, come back to me. You're home."
    Her breath burned in her throat, and she struggled, bucking, shoving against the arms that held her. And Roarke's voice seeped into the dream, warm, calm, lovely. Safe.
    "That's right. Hold on to me." He gathered her closer in the dark, rocking her as he would a child until her shudders quieted. "You're all right now."
    "Don't let go."
    "No." He pressed his lips to her temple. "I won't."
    When she woke in the morning, the dream only a vague smear on her mind, his arms were still around her.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Eve beat Peabody into Central. It was deliberate, and it cost her a full hour's sleep that morning. She hoped to file her updated report, then move on, before her aide showed up. If she was lucky, there would be no discussion involving Charles Monroe.
    The detective's bullpen was buzzing. It turned out that Detective Zeno's wife had given birth to a baby girl the night before, and he'd celebrated by bringing in two dozen donuts. Knowing detectives, Eve snagged one before the unit fell on them like hyenas on scavenged meat.
    "Who won the pool?"
    "I did." Baxter grinned around a cinnamon twist with raspberry jelly. "Six hundred and thirty smackeroos."
    "Damn it. I never win the baby pool." Consoling herself, Eve snagged a cruller. Taking the first bite, she grinned at him. Good old Baxter, she thought. He could be a pain in the ass, but he was meticulous and sharp with details.
    He was just perfect. "Looks like this is your lucky day."
    "No shit. I've had my eye on this new auto-entertainment system. The six bills plus is going to go a long way toward putting that baby in my ride."
    "That's great, Baxter, but I mean it's really your lucky day." She pulled