In Death 13 - Seduction in Death

a full squad of cops armed with riot guns and body armor. The circumstances of the case and the weight of the charges gave her the option to do just that.
    It would make a splash, a blistering statement.
    And it would be completely self-indulgent.
    Eve let the fantasy fly away, and with only Peabody beside her, approached the door.
    "All stations manned and ready?"
    "That's affirmative," Feeney said through her earpiece. "He tries to rabbit and gets past you, we'll scoop him up."
    "Copy that." She glanced at Peabody. "He's not getting past us."
    "Not in this life."
    Eve pressed the bell, counted off seconds as she rocked on the balls of her feet. She'd reached ten when the house droid opened the door.
    "Remember me?" She gave him a toothy smile. "I need to speak with Mr. Dunwood."
    "Yes, Lieutenant. Please come in. I'll tell Mr. Dunwood you're here. May I offer you some refreshment while you wait?"
    "No, we're set, thanks."
    "Very well. Please make yourself comfortable."
    He walked away, stiff and formal in his classic black uniform.
    "Now if Roarke would ditch Summerset and get a droid, I could be treated politely like that every day."
    "Yeah." Peabody grinned. "You'd really hate it."
    "Who says?"
    "Those who know you best, sir."
    "I think I know me best," she countered. "What makes you say... hold that thought," she said when she saw Lucias turn into the foyer. "Mr. Dunwood."
    "Lieutenant." He'd dressed in black as well, had used just a hint of makeup to give his face a grieving pallor. It had worked wonders on his mother that morning, and he had no doubt it would set just the right tone with the cops. "You have some news about my grandfather? I spent the morning with my mother, and she..."
    He trailed off, looked away as if composing himself. "We'd both be grateful for any news. Anything at all to help us make some sense out of our loss."
    "I think I can help you with that. We already have someone in custody."
    He looked back at her, an instant of surprise before it was masked. "I can't tell you what this means to us. To have his killer brought to justice quickly."
    "Brightens my day, too." Indulgent, she told herself. She was being indulgent after all. But what the hell. "Actually, there were two people responsible. One has been charged, and an arrest of the second is imminent."
    "Two? Two against a helpless old man." He worked rage into his voice. "I want them to suffer. I want them to pay."
    "We're riding the same wave on that one. So let's get started. Lucias Dunwood, you're under arrest."
    She whipped out her weapon when he took a quick step back. "Oh, please," she invited. "Keep going. I didn't have the opportunity to use this on your pal, Kevin, and it's made me twitchy."
    "You stupid bitch."
    "I'll take the bitch, but hey, which one of us is going into a cage? Stupid is as stupid does. Hands up and behind your head. Now."
    He raised his hands, and when she turned him to face the wall, made him move.
    Maybe she let him. Eve wasn't going to lie awake at night debating the point. But when he shoved, she let her body flow back, gave him room to swing. And ducking under the arch of his fist, rammed her own, twice, into his gut.
    "Resisting arrest," she said when he fell to his hands and knees, retching. "Another mark on your permanent record." She nudged him flat with her foot, then put her boot lightly on the back of his neck. "I won't add assaulting an officer because you missed. Restrain this clown, Peabody, while I finish stating the charges against him and read him his rights."
    He was demanding a lawyer before she'd finished.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
    The sky was still blue, a deep, dreamy evening blue, when she walked up the steps to her own front door. For the first time in days her mind was clear enough to let the sound of birdsong and the soft drift of flowers register.
    She considered just sitting down on the steps and drawing it in, all those sweet and simple pleasures the world could offer. Remembering, taking the time to remember there was more than death, more than blood and those who spilled it with the selfishness of spoiled children made the difference between living and sinking.
    Instead she pinched off a sprig of the purple flower spilling out of an urn and went inside. There was something she wanted more than fresh air.
    Summerset took one look at the blossom in her hand and scowled. "Lieutenant, the arrangements in the urns are not cutting flowers."
    "I didn't cut it. I snapped it off. Is he