“One of the staff might have noticed, but then, I pay them well and they’re likely to say what I tell them to say.” His voice took on an edge. “There’s been another murder.”
“Lola Starr, licensed companion. Certain details will be released to the media within the hour.”
“And certain details will not.”
“Do you own a silencer, Roarke?”
His expression didn’t change. “Several. You look exhausted, Eve. Have you been up all night?”
“Goes with the job. Do you own a Swiss handgun, SIG two-ten, circa 1980?”
“I acquired one about six weeks ago. Sit down.”
“Were you acquainted with Lola Starr?” Reaching into her briefcase, she pulled out a photo she’d found in Lola’s apartment. The pretty, elfin girl beamed out, full of sassy fun.
Roarke lowered his gaze to it as it landed on his desk. His eyes flickered. This time his voice was tinged with something Eve thought sounded like pity.
“She isn’t old enough to be licensed.”
“She turned eighteen four months ago. Applied on her birthday.”
“She didn’t have time to change her mind, did she?” His eyes lifted to Eve’s. And yes, it was pity. “I didn’t know her. I don’t use prostitutes—or children.” He picked up the photo, skirted the desk, and offered it back to Eve. “Sit down.”
“Have you ever—”
“Goddamn it, sit down.” In sudden fury, he took her shoulders, pushed her into a chair. Her case tipped, spilling out photos of Lola that had nothing to do with sassy fun.
She might have reached them first—her reflexes were as good as his. Perhaps she wanted him to see them. Perhaps she needed him to.
Crouching, Roarke picked up a photo taken at the scene. He stared at it. “Christ Jesus,” he said softly. “You believe I’m capable of this?”
“My beliefs aren’t the issue. Investigating—” She broke off when his eyes whipped to hers.
“You believe I’m capable of this?” he repeated in an undertone that cut like a blade.
“No, but I have a job to do.”
“Your job sucks.”
She took the photos back, stored them. “From time to time.”
“How do you sleep at night, after looking at something like this?”
She flinched. Though she recovered in a snap, he’d seen it. As intrigued as he was by her instinctive and emotional reaction, he was sorry he’d caused it.
“By knowing I’ll take
down the bastard who did it. Get out of my way.”
He stayed where he was, laid a hand on her rigid arm. “A man in my position has to read people quickly and accurately, Eve. I’m reading you as someone close to the edge.”
“I said, get out of my way.”
He rose, but shifting his grip on her arm, pulled her to her feet. He was still in her way. “He’ll do it again,” Roarke said quietly. “And it’s eating at you wondering when and where and who.”
“Don’t analyze me. We’ve got a whole department of shrinks on the payroll for that.”
“Why haven’t you been to see one? You’ve been slipping through loopholes to avoid Testing.”