In Death 12 - Betrayal in Death

Just doesn't fit his face, and it's too damn fussy for his style. So it's a rug, a good one. And my hunch is he has a collection. Start off with the one he's wearing on the security tapes, check salons and beauty suppliers, top-level ones, major cities. He doesn't fool around with second line. And start with stuff that's natural fiber and non-allergic or whatever it's called. He likes things clean. He carries a leather suitcase rather than the lighter, man-made cloth."
    Peabody opened her mouth, but Eve was already striding away so she didn't get to ask what a leather suitcase had to do with a wig.
    Eve walked in the front door of the house just as Roarke came down the stairs. She blew her bangs out of her eyes and frowned at him.
    "What are you doing here?" she asked.
    "I live here."
    "You know what I mean."
    "Yes, and I might ask the same. You're not off-shift as yet."
    "I've got stuff I want to run here instead of at Central."
    "Ah."
    "Yeah, ah. And since you're here, I should be able to cut some time. I've got some questions you could -- "
    She started up as she spoke, breaking off when he laid a hand on her arm. "I was just upstairs, settling Mick into one of the guest rooms."
    "Mick? Oh." She paused. "Oh."
    "Do you have a problem with him staying here for a few days?"
    "No." The timing sucks, she thought. Seriously sucks. "Like you said, you live here."
    "As do you. I realize he comes from a time in my life that isn't entirely comfortable for you." He ran a finger over the strap of her shoulder harness. "Lieutenant. But it is, in fact, a time in my life."
    "I met a few of your friends from Dublin before. I like Brian."
    "I know." He laid his hands on her shoulders now, ran them down her back, moving closer until his brow rested on hers. "Mick was important to me, Eve. As close, likely closer than a brother might have been through some very ugly times, and some good ones. I thought he was dead, and I'd adjusted to that."
    "And now you know he isn't." She understood friendship, its pulls and tugs and its puzzles. "Would you mind asking him not to do anything I'd have to arrest him for while he's staying in one of the guest rooms?"
    He shifted just enough to press his lips to hers. "I think you'll like him."
    "Yeah." And they both knew he hadn't agreed to her request. "You Irish guys are pretty likable. Listen, I just want to say you don't need any trouble right now, with the way this homicide investigation is heading."
    He nodded. "It was never her, was it? That poor little maid."
    "I don't think so. We need to sit down and figure who would go after you this way, and why."
    "All right, when I can. I've some arrangements to put into motion just now. We're having some people over for dinner."
    "Tonight? Roarke -- "
    "I can make your excuses if it's not convenient for you. Magda and her son, and a few key people will be here. It's important to smooth out feathers ruffled by the incident last night, and to reassure everyone involved in the upcoming auction that security and publicity are under control."
    "No point in asking you to postpone the whole deal."
    "None at all," he said cheerfully. "I can hardly put the hotel, or any of my projects or my life for that matter, on hold because it's believed that someone's hoping to upset me."
    "The next move might be on you."
    His smile never dimmed. In fact, it sharpened. "I'd prefer it. I don't want another innocent life on my conscience. In any case, I have the most reliable of bodyguards very close at hand."
    And she intended to be closer. "What time's the dinner thing?"
    "Eight."
    "Then I'd better get some work done. I guess I have to put on some fancy deal."
    "Leave that to me." He took her hand, kissed it. "Thank you."
    "Yeah, yeah, save it. I want some of your time before tomorrow," she added, jogging up the stairs.
    "Darling Eve, I want a great deal of yours."
    She snorted, kept going, and when she reached the second floor paused as Mick came out of one of the countless guest rooms. He'd removed his suit jacket and looked, to her eye, casual and at home.
    He gave her a quick, crooked smile. "Ah, Lieutenant. Nothing more annoying than an unexpected houseguest, is there? And add on to that an old boyhood friend of your husband's who's a stranger to you, and you have tedium on top of it. I hope you're not too inconvenienced by my staying."
    "It's a big house," she said, then realized that was probably not the most polite of responses. But he received it with such a