Leverage in Death (In Death 47)

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Or I will be. You could use a workout yourself, pudge boy.”

He blinked his bicolored eyes, rolled over to stretch out on his back. Cat of leisure.

She took the elevator down. In the gym she programmed the beach, took a minute to just bask in the sights, sounds, and feel of blue ocean, white sand. And with the surf rolling, she ran three miles full out. Somewhere in mile two, she stopped thinking.

With her skin cased in a good, heathy sweat, she guzzled water, then turned to weights, lifted until her muscles trembled.

As she stretched, she eyed the sparring droid. She wouldn’t have minded a good, vicious bout, but she’d nearly hit the hour.

“Next time.” She pointed a finger at the droid. “I’m kicking your ass.”

Upstairs she found Galahad had deserted his post. Probably down with Summerset for breakfast, she decided and hit the shower—and there she washed away the last of the dream in blissfully hot water, steam, pulsing jets.

By the time Roarke came back, she’d pulled on black trousers, a crisp white shirt and her weapon harness. Breakfast sat under warming domes.

“Were you a benevolent god or a wrathful one?”

“A bit of both. Keeps them guessing.” She looked herself, he thought, strong and ready. Most of the worry he carried drained.

He poured himself coffee, topped off hers. It didn’t surprise him to find waffles under the domes.

He sat with her. “And what’s first on your agenda today?”

“Briefing. I’m going in early to set that up, and to work out the interview assignments.” She drowned her waffles in butter and syrup. “With two teams, we should be able to knock a good chunk off that list. Or pin somebody to the freaking wall.”

“I’ll hope for the latter. What would you like me to do for you today?”

“Just focus on world domination.”

“I always do, as I find it entertaining and profitable. But multitasking, I’d enjoy an assignment.”

“Follow the money. Yeah, yeah, you always do that, too.” She ate waffles. “Every day would dawn brighter with waffles.”

“We haven’t quite hit dawn yet.”

“When we do, it’ll be brighter. Anything you can scrape up on the stocks, the art. If we don’t make real progress today . . .” She stabbed another bite of waffle. “Eightteen dead. When I weigh that against the line crossed by using the unregistered, the dead win.”

“It’s likely I’d find more without being hampered by CompuGuard.”

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t be the first time. I need to push the interviews first. If I thought they were done, if I didn’t feel dead certain they’ve got another scheme in the works—”

“You could push through it your way. And you’d find them, I’ve no doubt of

it, sooner or later.”

“It’s the later that’s burning my gut. Contingencies. They had to have them, at least one contingency. One more they could work either to replace one that went south, or for the triple play.”

“You think they’d always planned for three, even four,” Roarke concluded.

“They had to rush the timing of the first two when the merger meeting scheduled on top of the art opening. They probably planned to hit both, but with a little more time between. And then a third. They’re gamblers. Three’s a lucky number, right?”

“All number’s are lucky when you hit them. But,” he added. “The gamblers I’ve known—the professional, the passionate, the addicted, they’re a superstitious lot. Added to it, they’d believe in the streak.”

“These two are on one. Another stock or art deal? Those are most logical. But I can’t find anything that fits, not in New York. How many major mergers, how many artists on the brink? Not that many right in New York City, not on top of each other.”

“You’d have to consider international,” he pointed out. “Even off-planet. The world’s full of mergers and emerging artists.”

“Yeah, and I can’t eliminate that altogether. But they have to stalk the target, his family. They have to watch and research. They have to be as certain as possible he’ll push that button. Now, maybe one of them goes off to wherever to do the legwork, then the other comes in to double team the family. But that splits them up, and I think they’re too dependent on each other.”