"Don't get snotty with me, Roarke. You take one of your collection and by any chance have to use it, we've got trouble I don't want to have to deal with."
"I can deal with my own trouble."
"Shut up. Leave your weapon home. I'm giving you one of mine."
He turned, a shirt in his hand. "Are you?"
"I got a temporary carry license for you, one night only. Tibble put it through." She opened a drawer, took out a small stunner. "It's not lethal, but it'll jam up the circuits just fine, and you don't need anymore than that for personal protection."
"This from a woman who currently has more weapons than hands."
"I'm the badge, you're not. Don't make this into some manly ego thing. I know you can handle yourself, and you'd rather play it that way. But this has to go down clean. Any screwups and she'll use them in court to muck up the trial. You take something unauthorized, and you're putting a weapon in her hand."
He opened his mouth and she could see the annoyance, the refusal on his face. She shook her head. "Please, do this for me."
The annoyance came out, one long hiss of breath. But he held out a hand for the stunner. "Fighting dirty. Your way then."
"Thanks."
The please, the thanks, instead of anger and orders, told him she was a lot more worried than she wanted him to know. "You've covered every angle, every contingency, every circumstance," he told her.
"No." She opened the evening bag she'd carried. Her badge, backup communicator, and yet another weapon she didn't feel obliged to mention were already inside. "There's always something else. She'll be there. I know it. My gut knows it. We finish this tonight."
* * *
"All clear. No sign of subject. Beginning next sweep. And these little eggroll deals are aces."
Feeney's voice was bell-clear in Eve's ear, and a welcome relief to the party chatter in the ballroom. "Copy that," she replied. Leaving the weight of small talk to Roarke, she did her own sweep.
The badges she'd selected moved through the crowd, mingling, merging. Even McNab, somewhat conservatively dressed in sapphire blue and canary yellow, wouldn't have caused a second glance. No one would make them as cops, unless they knew where to look.
It was always in the eyes. Flat, watchful, ready, even as they laughed at a joke or made one, even as they nibbled on canapes or sipped mineral water.
Out of the twelve hundred and thirty-eight people attending, twenty who roamed the ballroom were armed and wired. Another ten covered other public areas as staff, and six manned equipment in Control.
The predinner mingling portion of the event was nearly at a close. Julianna had yet to make a move.
"We can't have our most illustrious benefactors standing here without a drink." Louise glided up, glowing in silver. She signalled a server, took two flutes of champagne off his tray, and handed them to Eve and Roarke. "You've already received your official thank-you for your donation, but I'd like to add a personal one."
"It's our pleasure." Roarke bent down to kiss her cheek. "You look stunning, as always. Hello, Charles, it's good to see you."
"Roarke. Lieutenant, you look amazing. The sexy soldier." He slid a proprietary arm around Louise's waist. "If I'm ever called to war, I'd want you leading my troops. We were afraid you wouldn't make it tonight. Delia's told me how jammed up you've been with this hunt for Julianna Dunne."
It was a constant puzzle to Eve. Here was a man, a professional companion, with his arm around the elegant blonde he was obviously gone over, talking about the brunette he'd dated for months, and nobody looked weird about it.
Add that the brunette he'd dated, and the guy she was currently banging like a hammer on a nail, were both hearing every word through Eve's mike, and you had something very strange on your hands.
Relationships were confusing enough, she thought. Mix in police work and it arcs clean out of orbit.
"I make time to pay my debts," Eve said with a glance at Louise.
Louise laughed. "I think the million-dollar contribution already wiped that slate clean."
"That's his deal," Eve returned with a jerk of her head toward Roarke. "Anyway, it's a nice do as these dos go."
"Stupendous praise from you, so thanks. We're going to keep the boring speeches over dinner to a minimum, then liven it up again with dancing. But before we herd this mob to the tables, I need to steal your husband."
Eve inched just a little closer to Roarke. "I'd as soon keep him. I've gotten used to him."