He led her around the hotel, through the side gardens, the patio cafe, wound through one of the pool areas and into a private elevator while he listened to her report.
“So your intentions were to spare Skinner’s feelings and reputation.”
“Didn’t work out, but, yeah, to a point. Hayes made us first glance.” The minute she was in the suite, she popped open a bottle of water, glugged. Until that moment she hadn’t realized the smoke had turned her throat into a raw desert of thirst. “Should’ve figured it. Now he’s in the wind, and that’s on me, too.”
“He won’t get off the station.”
“No, he won’t get off. But he might take it in mind to do some damage while he’s loose. I’ll need to look at the maps and plats for the resort. We’ll do a computer analysis, earmark the spots he’d be most likely to go to ground.”
“I’ll take care of that. I can do it faster,” he said before she could object. “You need a shower. You smell of smoke.”
She lifted her arm, sniffed it. “Yeah, I guess I do. Since you’re being so helpful, tag Peabody and Feeney, will you? I want this manhunt coordinated.”
“Too many places for him to hide.” An hour later, Eve scowled at the wall screens and the locations the computer had selected. “I’m wondering, too, if he had some sort of backup transpo in case this turned on him, someone he’s bribed to smuggle him off-site. If he gets off this station, he could go any fucking where.”
“I can work with Angelo on running that angle down,” Feeney said. “And some e-maneuvering can bog down anything scheduled to leave the site for a good twenty-four hours.”
“Good thinking. Keep in touch, okay?”
“Will do.” He headed out, rattling a bag of almonds.
“Roarke knows the site best. He’ll take me around to the specified locations. We’ll split them up with Angelo’s team.”
“Do I coordinate from here?” Peabody asked.
“Not exactly. I need you to work with Mira. Make sure Skinner and his wife stay put and report if Hayes contacts them. Then there’s this other thing.”
“Yes, sir.” Peabody looked up from her memo book.
“If we don’t bag him tonight, you’ll have to cover for me in the morning.”
“Cover for you?”
“I’ve got the notes and whatever in here.” Eve tossed her ppc into Peabody’s lap.
“Notes?” Peabody stared at the little unit in horror. “Your seminar? Oh, no, sir. Uh-uh. Dallas, I’m not giving your seminar.”
“Just think of yourself as backup,” Eve suggested. “Roarke?” She walked to the door and through it, leaving Peabody sputtering.
“Just how much don’t you want to give that seminar tomorrow?” Roarke wondered.
“I don’t have to answer that until I’ve been given the revised Miranda warning.” Eve rolled her shoulders and would have sworn she felt weight spilling off them. “Sometimes things just work out perfect, don’t they?”
“Ask Peabody that in the morning.”
With a laugh, she stepped into the elevator. “Let’s go hunting.”
They hit every location, even overlapping into Angelo’s portion. It was a long, tedious, and exacting process. Later she would think that the operation had given her a more complete view of the scope of Roarke’s pet project. The hotels, casinos, theaters, restaurants, the shops and businesses. The houses and buildings, the beaches and parks. The sheer sweep of the world he’d created was more than she’d imagined.
While impressive, it made the job at hand next to impossible.
It was after three in the morning when she gave it up for the night and stumbled to bed. “We’ll find him tomorrow. His face is on every screen on-site. The minute he tries to buy any supplies, we’ll tag him. He has to sleep, he has to eat.”
“So do you.” In bed, Roarke drew her against him. “Turn it off, Lieutenant. Tomorrow’s soon enough.”
“He won’t go far.” Her voice thickened with sleep. “He needs to finish it and get his father’s praises. Legacies. Bloody legacies. I spent my life running from mine.”
“I know.” Roarke brushed the top of her head with his lips as she fell into sleep. “So have I.”