It was really all so perfect. Julianna lifted her hands, turned them, and pouted a bit when she noticed she'd chipped a nail.
* * *
Eve ran short, unpainted nails over the heel of a black evening shoe. "The Italian police were persuaded to turn over all personal items from Dunne's suite. This shoe is new. There's barely any marks on the sole. It's Italian, but with American sizing. My shoe authority..."—she glanced toward Roarke as she briefed her team—"tells me this means she most likely purchased it here in New York before leaving for Italy."
She tossed the shoe to McNab. "Run it, see if you can find out where she bought it, for what it's worth." '
"She's got little feet."
"Yeah, she's a real dainty man killer. As you're aware, we focus now on the upcoming event at the Regency. Feeney, you're in charge of electronics—surveillance, security, and so on. We have the commander's go to put as many men on this as we need. Do. You'll have to keep to background as the subject knows you. She's going to think twice if she shows up and sees a known cop at some snazzy charity deal."
"They usually have good food at those things."
"You'll get fed. Peabody, there's a strong likelihood she'd recognize you. She researches and would have studied my aide. You'll remain in the on-site Control."
"Get your own plate," Feeney told her.
"McNab, we can risk you. You'll dude yourself up appropriately and work the ballroom."
"Hey, frigid."
"If she uses this opportunity to attempt a hit on the target, it's most likely she'll do it as server or staff. Easier to blend, to go unnoticed, to get in close enough to do the job. She'll know the target very well."
"The target has a name."
She met Roarke's eyes. "We know your name. So does she. She'll know you have superior security and superior instincts. She'll know you'll be cautious. But she'll also believe that you are unaware you're a target, that you'll feel reasonably comfortable at this sort of event, at your ease with the small talk and the mingling."
And he would, she thought, while her nerves would be balled up into slippery wires. "She doesn't know, or can't be sure, if I've copped to her moving on you. Her other New York targets have all been similar to her previous choices. You don't fit pattern. She'll consider that one of her advantages. The hit will take form in a drink or possibly some finger food. That means you eat and drink nothing. Nothing whatsoever."
"It promises to be a very long evening. I have a stipulation here, if you don't mind, Lieutenant."
"What?"
"The possibility remains you are her target, or that she hopes to take a two-for-one with us." He inclined his head as he saw this had occurred to her already. "Therefore, you eat or drink nothing right along with me."
"Fine. The media's already picked up the bone about the large contribution Roarke is presenting to Louise Dimatto that evening. This is an open door for her, and she will go through it." Eve had thought long and hard about it. "She will. I nipped at her heels in Italy this morning, put the skids on her nice little holiday. She doesn't care to be crossed. She'll be pissed, but she'll also be determined. So am I. So am I pissed and determined to slam that door shut on her."
She paused, read the faces in the room to see if they understood her meaning. Julianna Dunne was hers. "Feeney, I'll want your input on selecting what remains of the operation team. We'll go over that once we've done a walk-through on-site. We'll meet there, main security office, in thirty. Questions?"
"Not now." Feeney got to his feet. "Imagine there'll be plenty when we start the walk-through."
"Then let's save it. Peabody, you're with Feeney and McNab. I'll transport the civilian."
"And the civilian has a name as well." Mildly irked, Roarke got to his feet. "If you've a moment or two, Lieutenant, the Peabodys would like to say good-bye before they leave."
"Fine. In thirty," she said to her team as she walked out with Roarke.
"You're trying to depersonalize this by referring to me as an object." He paused at the top of the stairs, took her arm. "I don't appreciate it."
"That's too bad. When this is done and she's on ice, I'll say your name five hundred times as punishment." She could see his temper stir. "Give me a break on this, for God's sake. Give me a fucking break. I'm handling this the only way I know how."
"Understood. But you might understand that it's the both of us doing the handling. And I won't be relegated to a thing, Eve, not even for you." He took her hand firmly in his. "You've had a year to learn how it works."
A year? she thought as they walked down. As far as she could tell she wouldn't figure out all the angles of marriage in a hundred years.
The Peabodys were in the front parlor, cozied together on one of the sofas and laughing. Sam got to his feet the minute Eve stepped into the room.
"There you are. We were afraid you wouldn't have time to say good-bye, and give us the chance to say how glad we are we were able to get to know you this way. Both of you."