Secrets in Death (In Death 45)

“Party time,” she announced after opening the drawer.

Sex toys, enhancers, lotions, and lubes filled the drawer.

She lifted out a two-ended vibrator, noted it offered both warm and cool. It had a self-lube feature, and a control marked Ecstacy.

Curious, she flipped it on, brows rising when nubs popped out as it whirled in various directions and speeds.

Roarke started in, then just leaned on the doorjamb and grinned. “Now, there’s a picture.”

Vibrator still humming and whirling, she looked over. “There’s this port on it. I think it’s for VR, so you can hook into the program while you do yourself. Packs a lot into a small, compact package.”

She turned it off, set it aside.

“In addition we have a variety pack of condoms—stay safe—nipple clamps, cock rings, a couple gel vibrators, lubes, cuffs, your classic ball gag, cord restraints, blah-blah, hard-on pills, strap-ons, and a few illegals, including Rabbit.”

“An active sex life.”

“Solo and with friends by the look of it. Tablets over there, passcoded.”

“I’ll look at them. She has droids—the human replica variety and a couple of small robotics. The replica has been in sleep mode since noon—that’s its standard programming. It’s also programmed for sex, which is not at all surprising. Its name is Henri, and though it has other wardrobe, at the moment it’s garbed in a loincloth.”

“What? Like the jungle guy?”

“Yes, like the jungle guy.”

“Takes all kinds.” She angled her head, giving Roarke a long study.

“You’re picturing me in a loincloth. I feel so cheap.”

“Nothing cheap about you, pal. She’s got an office across the hall. Data and comm center.”

“I saw it, yes, and I’ll get to it. She has a tablet in the kitchen. It reads as a social calendar. Parties, openings, premieres, lunch and dinner dates. Henri says it’s part of his programming to keep it updated. The ’link in the kitchen is also his tool. A scroll through indicates its communication with caterers, reservations, ordering supplies, that sort of thing.”

“Okay. I’ll bag them anyway, and EDD can go through them.”

“Then I’ll take a look at the office.”

Eve rose to take the closet. Enormous, packed, with a vanity alcove and separate shoe closet, it boasted such perfect organization Eve decided Henri took care of this, too.

Plenty of lingerie

and sexy underwear in the built-in drawers—and an entire section just for belts.

Just belts—she marveled. Another for scarves. Yet another for the winter season’s hats and gloves.

Evening wear, on-camera wear, cocktail wear, snazzy day wear, all carefully cataloged on the closet comp, with clear notations on what had been worn where.

She worked her way through it, painstakingly, and found the safe.

“Now maybe we’ve got something.”

Crouching down, she studied it, wondered if she could crack it. She’d developed and honed some skills since Roarke had started teaching her. No question he could open it in a fraction of the time, but—

She continued to study the safe as she pulled out her signaling ’link.

“Dallas.”

“Peabody. McNab finally got through her purse electronics. We stopped for some food, but the real time suck? Seriously shielded. Even fail-safed.”