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IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG FOR ROARKE TO MAKE arrangements. In the end, however, it would be more than the appearance he was tending to his own organization. He’d have to put in some time on just that, once he could get to his home office, juggling deals and finance with murder.

But for now he headed back to the war room to keep the various balls of his e-work in the air. He caught sight of Eve coming from the direction of her office. With a few yards between them, he watched her—long, quick strides. Places to go, he thought, murderers to catch.

He stopped off, grabbing a bottle of water for both of them, then walked in.

She’d gone to Feeney’s station. The cop Feeney was working with—the detail-minded young Newkirk’s father, Roarke remembered—nodded, and gathering a few discs, shifted to another area.

So she wanted a direct with Feeney, Roarke concluded. He went to his own station to work on a problem, and to study their dynamics.

He could see Feeney absorb the information, see Feeney’s eyes narrow in consideration. And the faintest frown of concern. There was some back-and-forth, rapid-fire on Feeney’s part, then he scratched his ear, dipped into his pocket. Out came a bag.

It would be nuts, Roarke knew, as Feeney dipped into it, then held it out to Eve.

Taking that as a signal they were now at the thinking through and strategy stage, Roarke rose to walk over and join them.

“Raised his sights considerably,” Feeney said to Roarke.

“So it would seem.”

Feeney swiveled idly left to right, right to left, in his chair as he spoke. “We can wire her up, no problem there. Could put a camera on her, too. Give us eyes if and when we need them.”

“I don’t want him spotting a camera,” Eve began.

“I have something.” Roarke looked at Feeney. “The new generation of the HD Mole. XT-Micro. Most often used lapel-style, but as she’s not known for accessorizing it can be easily reconfigured into a button—shirt or jacket. Voice print option. She can activate or deactivate it with any choice of keyword or phrase.”

“She’s standing right here,” Eve pointed out.

“There were a couple bugs in the last generation,” Feeney pointed out, easily ignoring Eve.

“Exterminated,” Roarke assured him. “It would take care of audio and video, and with the XT model—unless she’s going up against top-level security—it wouldn’t be detected.”

Feeney nodded and munched. “We can go with that. Like to have a look at it first.”

“I’ve got one coming in now. I used a multitrack homer on her vehicle, military grade.”

In appreciation of the high-level equipment, Feeney let out a low whistle, along with a quick grin. “We sure as hell won’t lose her, even if she decides to drive down to Argentina. We’ll set up receivers here, and in the mobile. Shadow team can give her five or six blocks.”

“What about air?”

“We can mobilize if we have to.”

“It’s not a bloody coup,” Eve muttered. “It’s one homicidal old man.”

“Who’s captured, tortured, and killed twenty-four women.”

Eve merely scowled at Roarke. “I think if he goes through the goddamn window, I can take him. You two go ahead and set up all the e-toys you want. But let’s remember, it’s not just smoking him out. It’s getting in. For Rossi and Greenfeld to have a chance, we have to get to them. I have to get inside, let him think he’s lured me in. We take him outside his place, there’s no guarantee we’ll nail down where he’s keeping them.”

She had their attention now, waited a beat. “I’m not having these two women bleed or starve to death because we’re so worried about keeping my skin in place we take him down or put him down before we know where they are. Their safety is paramount. That’s a directive from the primary.”

Feeney rattled his bag of nuts, held it out to Roarke. “Gil and I boxed in a few locations and individuals worth checking out.”

“Peabody and I will take that. That’s SOP if he’s watching. Give me what you’ve got. How long before your shiny new toy gets here?” she asked Roarke.

“Should be along in ten or fifteen minutes now.”

“Good enough. I’ll go dig out the stupid vests.” She signaled to Peabody. “Roarke, you’re going to have to arrange your own transpo home.”

“Understood. Lieutenant, a moment.” Roarke walked with her to the door. “I want those women back, safe, as much as you. I also like your skin exactly where it is. We’re going to find a way to make all of that work. And that’s a directive from the man who loves you. So watch your ass, or I’ll be first in line to kick it.”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery