In Death 10 - Witness in Death

mention his mother knew Draco."
    "He might not have been aware of it."
    "Unlikely. Let's take a look at the flags. Hmm, Draco's got a few sealeds of his own."
    "Money, prominence, connections," Roarke said. "It buys silence."
    "You ought to know." She said it with a smirk, then jerked up in her chair. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. What's this? Carly Landsdowne's got a sealed."
    "More secrets? More silence?"
    "Not this time. I know this code. It's an old one. It was in use when I went into the system. A lot of the kids in state homes wanted that code more than they wanted to eat their next meal. It's the code for adoption. Sealed," she added. "With the birth mother's data inside. Look at the date."
    "Eight months after Stiles's assault on Draco. It won't be a coincidence."
    "This plays for me. Draco got Anja Carvell pregnant. She tells him, he dumps her. Dumps her hard. She falls apart, tries self-termination, but Stiles gets to her before she's finished. She has a change of heart and decides to complete the pregnancy. Gives the kid away, and pays a hefty fee for a seal."
    "It wouldn't have been easy."
    Eve's eyes went flat. "It's plenty easy for some. Kids are tossed aside every day."
    To comfort her, he put his hands on her shoulders, rubbed. "By Stiles's account, she was in love with the baby's father and nearly destroyed by him. Yet she didn't terminate the pregnancy. She gave the child up, which is different, Eve, than giving the child away. She paid for the seal to protect the child."
    "It protects her, too."
    "Yes, but there are other ways. She could have sold the baby on the black market. No questions asked. She chose legal channels."
    "Stiles knew. She'd have spilled it. We're going to have to have another chat. Now, let's see. Which judge should I wake up for the warrant and authorization to crack the seal?" She looked up at Roarke. "Any suggestions?"
    "Lieutenant, I'm sure you know best."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    Before she roused a judge out of bed and risked irritating him, she tried to tag Peabody through her communicator.
    "Off duty?" Sheer shock glazed Eve's eyes at the blinking red light on her pocket unit. "What the hell does that mean?"
    "Why, the nerve!" Roarke clucked his tongue. "I bet she's got some insane idea that she's entitled to a life."
    "It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault," Eve chanted under her breath while she sent the transmission to Peabody's palm 'link.
    After six beeps, Eve was up and pacing. "If she doesn't answer, I'm going to -- " Abruptly, Eve's desk 'link exploded with noise. Her angry yelp had the cat racing back into the kitchen.
    "Peabody! For God's sake, where are you?"
    "Sir? Sir, is that you? I can't really hear over the music."
    The audio might have been chaos, but the video shimmered clear and gave Eve a close-up view of her aide, complete with fussy hair, lip dye, and slumberous eyes.
    I knew it, was all Eve could think. I just knew it.
    "You've been drinking."
    "I have?" The vague eyes blinked at the information, then Eve heard what could only be described as a giggle. "Well, maybe. A couple. I'm in a club, and they have drinking here. Really rocking screamers. Is it morning already?"
    "Hey, Dallas!" McNab's face pushed against Peabody's so the two of them, equally plowed by the look of things, shared the screen. "This band is ice. Why don't you get your main squeeze and come on down."
    "Peabody, where are you?"
    "I'm in New York City. I live here."
    Drunk, Eve thought in frustration. Drunk as a Station Caspian colonist. "Never mind. Take this outside before I go deaf."
    "What? I can't hear you!"
    Ignoring Roarke's amused chuckle, Eve leaned into her 'link. "Officer Peabody, go outside, keep the transmission open. I need to talk to you."
    "You're outside? Well, hell, come on in."
    Eve sucked in a breath. "Go. Out. Side."
    "Oh, okay, sure thing."
    There was a great deal of fumbling, more giggling, bumpy views of a crowd of what Eve decided were maniacs leaping and spinning as the band crashed out noise. To her great pain, she heard, very clearly, McNab's hissed suggestion of what would be fun to do in one of the club's privacy rooms.
    "You have to give him points for imagination," Roarke pointed out.
    "I hate you for this." Patience straining, Eve held the transmission while Peabody and McNab stumbled out of the club. The noise level dropped, but not by much. Apparently McNab's choice of club was in the core of Broadway's never-ending party district.
    "Dallas?