She’d talk to him about Nadine, let it leak that she was worried. From there, it would be natural to steer things to Kirski. She could play good cop, for a good cause. She could sympathize with his trauma, add a war story from her first encounter with the dead to nudge him along. She could even ask him for help in broadcasting Nadine’s picture, her vehicle, agree to work with him.
Not too friendly, she decided. It should be grudging, with underlying urgency. If she was right about him, he’d love the fact that she needed him, and that he could use her to pump up his own airtime.
Then again, if she was right about him, Nadine could already be dead.
Eve blocked that out. It couldn’t be changed, and regrets could come later.
“Looking for something?”
Eve glanced down. The woman was so perfect, Eve might have been tempted to check for a pulse. Her face could have been carved from alabaster, her eyes painted with liquid emerald, her lips with crushed ruby. On-air talents were often known to leverage their first three years’ salaries against cosmetic enhancement.
Eve figured unless this one had been born very lucky, she’d bet the first five. Her hair was gold-tipped bronze swept up and away from that staggering face. Her voice was trained to a throaty purr that transmitted competent sex.
“Gossip line, right?”
“Social information. Larinda Mars.” She offered a perfect, long-fingered hand with tapered scarlet tips. “And you’re Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Mars. That’s familiar.”
“It should be.” If Larinda was irked that Eve didn’t place her instantly, she hid it well behind a dazzling white-toothed smile and a voice that held the faintest whiff of upper-class Brit. “I’ve been trying for weeks to nail down an interview with you and your fascinating companion. You haven’t returned my messages.”
“Bad habit of mine. Just like thinking my personal life is personal.”
“When you’re involved with a man like Roarke, personal life becomes public domain.” Her gaze skittered down, latched like a hook on a point between Eve’s breasts. “My, my, that’s quite a little bauble. A gift from Roarke?”
Eve bit off an oath, closed her hand over the diamond. She’d taken to playing with it while she was thinking and had forgotten to shove it back under her shirt.
“I’m looking for Morse.”
“Hmmm.” Larinda had already calculated the size and value of the stone. It would make a nice side piece to her broadcast. Cop wears billionaire’s ice. “I might be able to help you with that. And you’ll return the favor. There’s a little soiree at Roarke’s tonight.” She fluttered her incredible two-layer, two-toned lashes. “My invitation must have been lost.”
“That’s Roarke’s deal. Talk to him.”
“Oh.” An expert on button pushing, Larinda leaned back. “So, he runs the show, does he? I suppose when a man’s so used to making decisions, he wouldn’t consult the little woman.”
“I’m nobody’s little woman,” Eve shot back before she could stop herself. She took a breath for control, reevaluated the eerily beautiful face. “Nice one, Larinda.”
“Yes, it was. So, how about a pass for tonight? I can save you a lot of time looking for Morse,” she added, when Eve sent a new narrow-eyed stare around the room.
“Prove it, and we’ll see.”
“He left five minutes before you walked in.” Without looking, Larinda punched the call coming in on her ’link to hold. Practically, she used a slim pointer rather than her expensive manicure. “In a hurry, I’d say, as he nearly knocked me off the ascent. He looked quite ill. Poor baby.”
The venom there had Eve feeling more in tune with Larinda. “You don’t like him.”
“He’s a puss ball,” Larinda said in her melodious voice. “This is a competitive business, darling, and I’m not against stepping on someone’s back now and then to get ahead. Morse is the kind who’d step on you, then sneak in a nice kick to the crotch and never break a sweat. He tried it with me when we were on the social beat together.”
“And how did you handle that?”
She rolled a gorgeous shoulder. “Darling, I eat little wee
nies like him for breakfast. Still, he wasn’t altogether bad, a whiz with research, and a good camera presence. Just thought he was too manly to scoop up gossip.”
“Social information,” Eve corrected with a thin smile.
“Right. Anyway, I wasn’t sorry to see him shift over to hard news. You won’t find that he’s made many friends there, either. He’s cut Nadine.”
“What?” Bells rang in Eve’s head.