“It’s more than a game,” Eve said with a thin smile. “It’s an adventure. I need to take care of something. You can send my share up here when you’ve set up.”
“You get the cool room.”
“Yes, I do. Move.”
Had to be done, Eve thought. She’d have filled him in when she got home in any case. And the murder would leak to the media before much longer. He’d know when it did as he made a point to monitor the crime beat. Just a way to keep up with her.
If she’d had the head for it, she supposed she’d have monitored the stock market and business news. Good thing for him she didn’t have a clue.
She opted for his personal ’link, figuring he’d be too busy wheeling to answer, and she could leave him a v-mail.
But his face flickered on-screen, and those bold blue eyes fixed on hers. “Lieutenant, nice to hear from you.”
The combination of those eyes, the faint lilt of the green hills and valleys of Ireland in his voice, might have turned a weaker woman into a gooey puddle. As it was she couldn’t stop the quick jump of her heart.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever.”
“I’m on my way back from a lunch meeting, so you caught me at a good time.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where?”
“Florence. The pasta was exceptional. What can I do for you?”
“I caught a case.”
“You often do.”
Better quick, she thought. It somehow always was. “It’s Bart Minnock.”
It changed—the easy good humor, the innate flirtation dropped away. The hard lines of anger didn’t diminish that striking face, but instead made the compelling the dangerous.
“What happened to him?”
“I can’t get into all the details now, but I just found out you knew him. I didn’t want you to hear about it on a media report.”
“Has it to do with his work or was it personal?”
“It’s too soon to say, but his work’s involved.”
“Where are you?”
“U-Play.”
“I’ll be landing in about twenty minutes. I’ll be there within forty.”
“Roarke—”
“If it’s to do with his work, I’ll be helpful. If it doesn’t . . . We’ll see. He was a sweet boy, Eve. A sweet, brilliant, and harmless boy. I want to do what I can for him.”
She’d expected as much. “Find Feeney when you get here. I’m sorry, Roarke.”
“So am I. How did he die?” When she said nothing, sorrow clouded over the anger. “That bad, was it?”
“I’ll talk to you when you get here. It’s complicated.”
“All right then. It’s good he has you. I’ll be there soon.”
Eve took a breath. He would be helpful, she thought as she stared at the blank screen of her ’link. Not only with the e-work, but with the business. Feeney and his crew knew their e, but they didn’t know the business. Roarke would.