Eve kept her eyes on his, tapped a finger on her badge.
“Yeah, well… She’s in four-fifteen. Do you want me to call up, let her know you’re here?”
“I think we can find four-fifteen all by ourselves.”
She eyed the single elevator with some distrust, but her feet were still a little achy from her diamond slippers.
“Voice activation’s broke,” the desk droid called out. “You have to push for your floor.”
She stepped on, pushed four. “This thing gets stuck, you can get us out, right?”
“Not to worry.” Roarke took her hand. “Look at her the way you looked at the clerk, and you’ll be done.”
“How’d I look at the clerk?”
“Like he was nothing.” He lifted their joined hands, kissed hers as the elevator groaned its way upward. The droid wouldn’t have registered the nerves, Roarke thought, and he doubted Trudy would. But they were there, under the surface. “If you’re up for it after Mira’s, why don’t we do a little shopping?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“No, seriously. We’ll stroll around on Fifth, look at the decorations, wander over to watch the skaters. Be New Yorkers.”
She started to point out that no sane New Yorker would hassle with Fifth on a weekend this close to Christmas, much less stroll. But suddenly, it seemed like just the thing.
“Sure. Why not?”
The elevator squeaked open on four. The hall was narrow, but it was clean. A maid’s cart stood outside the open door of four-twelve, and a woman—curvy, blond, mid-twenties—was knocking lightly on four-fifteen.
“Come on, Mama Tru.” The woman’s voice was soft as cotton. As she knocked again, she shifted from foot to foot, nervously, on simple canvas skids the same quiet blue as her pants. “We’re worried about you now. Come on and open the door. Bobby’ll take us out for a nice lunch.”
She glanced over with eyes baby blue like her outfit, and gave Eve and Roarke an embarrassed smile. “Morning. Or afternoon by now, I expect.”
“She doesn’t answer?”
The woman blinked at Eve. “Um… No. My mother-in-law. She wasn’t feeling very well yesterday. I’m sorry, is the knocking bothering you?”
“I’m Dallas. Lieutenant Eve. She probably mentioned me.”
“You’re Eve!” She slapped crossed hands to her chest as her face lit up. “You’re Eve. Oh, I’m so glad you came by. This is going to make her feel so much better. I’m just so happy to meet you. I’m Zana. Zana Lombard, Bobby’s wife. Oh, gosh, and I’m just not fixed up like I wanted.” She brushed at her hair that fell in soft, shiny waves. “You look just like you did on-screen. Mama Tru played that interview for me a couple times. I’m just so distracted I didn’t recognize you. Goodness, we’re like sisters, aren’t we?”
She made a move—an obvious hug move—which Eve evaded by stepping to the side. “No, we’re really not.” This time Eve knocked, three good, strong pounds with the side of her fist. “Lombard, it’s Dallas. Open up.”
Zana bit her lip, twisted the silver chain she wore around her fingers. “Maybe I should get Bobby. We’re down at the end of the hall. I should get Bobby.”
“Why don’t you give this a moment?” Roarke suggested, and drew her back gently with a hand on her arm. “I’m the lieutenant’s husband.”
“Oh, Lord, oh my, of course you are. I recognize you, I sure do. I’m just so confused. I’m starting to worry that something’s wrong. I know Mama Tru went to see Eve—the lieutenant—but she wouldn’t talk to us about it. She was that upset. Then yesterday.” She gripped her hands together, twisted them. “I don’t know what’s going on. I hate when everyone’s upset.”
“Then you’d better take a long walk,” Eve told her. She shook her head at Roarke, then signalled to the maid who was peeking around I; the corner of the open door of four-twelve. “Open it,” she ordered and flashed her badge.
“I’m not really supposed to without permission from the desk.”
“See this?” Eve waved her badge in the air. “This is permission. You I open the door, or I break in the door. Take your pick.”
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it.” The maid hustled over, digging her master out of her pocket. “Sometimes people sleep late on Sundays, you know. Sometimes they just like to sleep in.”
When she’d used the master, Eve nudged her aside. “Stand back.” She thumped twice more on the door. “Coming in.”
She wasn’t sleeping. Not in that position, not sprawled on the floor with her nightgown hiked up to her hips and her head resting in a pool of congealed blood.