In Death 15 - Purity in Death

go stick my head under a faucet before I go back in with him. I'll keep him out of your hair, Dallas."
    "See that you do."
    Eve sat where she was a moment after Peabody walked out. "Don't make any smart comments about me being a soft touch," Eve warned. "Or you'll be glad we happen to be in a medical facility when you regain full consciousness."
    "Wouldn't dream of it." Roarke rubbed a hand over hers. "Lieutenant Softie."
    She slanted him a look, but got to her feet without resorting to violence. "Let's get the hell out of here."
    She let him drive home because she wanted to think. Electronics weren't her strong suit. In fact, she and technology fought an ongoing war, and so far she'd lost most of the battles.
    Feeney was captain of EDD because he was a good cop, and because he not only understood the strange world of electronics, he had a lifelong love affair with it. She could count on McNab, if he was physically up to it. He brought a young, fresh, innovative hand to the field.
    And, after today, she could expect the full cooperation of ev e ry cop, drone, and droid in EDD.
    But she had one more weapon, and it was sitting beside her, making her clunky departmental vehicle purr like a kitten as it darted through the misery of evening traffic.
    She might have been Roarke's wife, and the wheel of the deal was his favorite pastime. Okay, second favorite, she corrected with a smirk. But electronics was his well-loved mistress.
    "We need to get into Cogburn's unit," she began. "We need to take it apart and put every chip, every circuit, every board under a scope. And we need to do that fast, without whoever's working on it turning into a homicidal maniac. Any ideas?"
    "I might have a few. I might take the time and trouble to refine them, if I were officially attached to the investigation. Expert consultant, civilian."
    Yeah, she thought. Always a deal to wheel. "I'll consider it, after I hear the ideas."
    "I'll discuss the ideas, after you consider it."
    She only scowled and tagged Morris on the in-dash 'link.
    His preliminary exam on Halloway showed the same massive intercranial pressure. Unexplained.
    Early test results on Cogburn's brain tissue indicated some unidentified viral infection.
    She frowned as they drove through the gates toward home. "Computers get viruses."
    "Not biological viruses," Roarke pointed out. "A sick computer can and does infect other computers, but not its operator."
    "This one did." She was dead sure of it. "Subliminal programming geared to mind control? We've dealt with that kind of thing before."
    "We have." And he was considering it. He veered away from the house toward the garage to save Summerset the annoyance of remoting it there later. "As I said, I've some ideas."
    She got out in what she thought of as his vehicular toy warehouse. She'd never understand what one man needed with twenty cars, three jet-bikes, a minicopter, and a couple of all-terrains. And that didn't count the ones he had stashed elsewhere.
    "I'll run consultant status by the commander. Temporary consultant status."
    "I really think I ought to get a badge this time." He grabbed her hand. "Let's have a walk."
    "A what?"
    "A walk," he repeated, drawing her outside. "It's a nice evening, and will likely be the last we'll have to ourselves for a bit of time. I've a yen to take the air with you, Lieutenant." He lowered his head, kissed her lightly. "Or maybe it's just a yen for you."

Chapter 6
    She didn't mind walking. Though she preferred pacing for exercising the brain.
    And really, this was more meandering, so that she had to check her stride twice to cut it back to his pace.
    It was funny, she thought, the way he could throttle back so seamlessly. From action and stress to ease without any visible effort. It was a skill she'd never mastered.
    The air was heavy with heat, thick with it, so they were strolling through a warm syrup. But the sharp white light of afternoon had mellowed toward a gilded evening light that was so soft, it felt as if it could be stroked.
    Even the heat was different here, she thought. Sucking itself into grass and trees and flowers rather than bouncing off pavement and smashing back into your face.
    But there was something . . . something just under the surface of Roarke's placid calm. She could sense the honed edge of it, like a knife wrapped in velvet.
    "What's going on?"
    "Summer doesn't last very long." He steered her down a stone path she wasn't entirely sure she'd seen before. "It's