"She likes money," Eve mused. "It, I don't know, feeds some need.

The same need killing men feeds. But it doesn't fit her old pattern.

Point is, she's back, and she killed Pettibone. I have to update the all-points."

"Have you considered she came here, killed here, because of you?"

Eve blew out a breath. "Maybe. That would mean I made a hell of an impression on her all those years ago." "You tend to-make an impression."

Since she couldn't think of a response, she pulled out her communicator and ordered the new all-points bulletin on Julianna Dunne.

"If she follows her old pattern, she's already out of the city. But we scooped her up once, we'll scoop her up again. I'll need to bring Feeney in on this. We were partners when Julianna went down."

"As I'm fond of him, I hope you don't intend to do that until morning."

"Yeah." She glanced at her wrist unit. "Nothing else to be done tonight."

"I don't know." He walked around the desk again, slid his arms around her. "I can think of one thing." "You usually do."

"Why don't we go to bed, and I'll get you naked. Then we'll see if you think of it, too."

"I guess that's reasonable." She started out with him. "I didn't ask: Did the rest of the deal go okay with the Peabodys?" "Mmm. Fine."

"Figured. You play with strangers better than I do. Listen, I hear they're going to stay in this camper thing they travel in, and that's not a good idea. I thought since you have hotels and stuff you could get them a deal on a room."

"That's not going to be necessary."

"Well yeah, because if they bunk in that thing on the street or in some lot, a beat cop's going to cite them, maybe pull them in. They won't flop at Peabody's because her place is pretty tight. You've got to have an empty hotel room or apartment somewhere they can use."

"I imagine I do, yes, but..." At the door to their bedroom, he pulled her inside, toward the bed. "Eve." She began to get a bad feeling.

"What?"

"Do you love me?"

A very bad feeling. "Maybe."

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her soft and deep. "Just say yes." "I'm not saying yes until I know why you're asking the question." "Perhaps I'm insecure, and needy, and want reassurance."

"My ass."

"Yes, I want your ass as well, but first there's the matter of your great and generous and unconditional love for me."

She let him release her weapon harness, noticed he put it well out of reach before turning back and loosening the buttons of her shirt.

"Who said anything about unconditional? I don't remember signing that clause in the deal." "What is it about your body that's a constant fascination to me?" He feathered his fingers lightly over her breasts. "It's all so firm and soft all at once."

"You're stalling. And you never stall." She grabbed his wrists before he could finish the job of distracting her. "You did something. What did you..." Realization struck, and her jaw dropped nearly to her toes. "Oh my God."

"I don't know how it happened, precisely. I really can't say how it came to be that Peabody's parents are even now tucked away in a guest room on the third floor. East wing."

"Here? They're going to stay here? You asked them to stay here?

With us?" "I'm not sure."

"What do you mean you're not sure? Did you ask them or not?"

"There's no point in getting into a snit." One must, he knew very well, switch to offense when defense was running thin. "You're the one who asked them to dinner, after all."

"To dinner," she hissed, as if they might hear her in the east wing. "A meal doesn't come with sleeping privileges. Roarke, they're Peabody's. What the hell are we going to do with them?"

"I don't know that either." Humor danced back in his eyes, and he sat and laughed. "I'm no easy mark. You know that. And I swear to you even now I'm not sure how she managed it, though manage it, she did, I'm showing them around after dinner as Phoebe wanted a bit of a tour. She's saying how nice it must be to have so many lovely rooms, and how comfortable and homey it all is despite all the size and space of it. And we're in the east wing, and she's wandering around one of the guest rooms and going to the window and saying what a wonderful view of the gardens. And look here, Sam, isn't this a beautiful view and so on. She misses her flowers, she tells me. And I say something about her being welcome to roam the garden here if she likes."

"How did you get from walking around the gardens to sleeping in the guest room?" "She looked at me."

"And?"

"She looked at me," he repeated with a kind of baffled fascination, "and from there it's difficult to explain. She was saying how comforting it was to her and Sam to know their Delia had such good friends, generous souls and something of the like. And how much it meant to them to have this time to get to know those friends. Before I knew it I was arranging for their things to be fetched, and she was kissing me good night."

"Peabody said she has the power."

"I'm here to tell you, the woman has something. It's not that I mind.

It's a big house, and I like both of them quite a lot. But, for Christ's sake, I usually know what I'm going to say before it comes spurting out of my mouth."

Amused now, she straddled him where he sat, hooked her arms behind his neck. "She put the whammy on you. I'm kind of sorry I missed it." There, you see? You do love me."

"Probably."

She was grinning when she let him roll her into bed.

In the morning, Eve did a thirty-minute workout in the gym, and finished it off with laps in the pool. When she had the time, it was a routine that invariably cleared her mind and got her blood moving.

By the time she pushed off for the tenth lap, she'd outlined her next steps in the Pettibone case.

Tracking Julianna Dunne was priority, and that meant digging through the old files, taking a hard look at patterns, associates, routines, and habits. It meant, in all probability, a trip to Dockport, to interview any inmates or guards Julianna had formed a relationship with.

Though if memory served, Julianna was very skilled at keeping herself to herself.

Next priority was motive. Who'd wanted Pettibone dead? Who'd benefited? His wife, his children. Possibly a business competitor.

A woman who looked like Bambi would have had other men in her life. That bore looking into. A former lover, jealousy. Or a long-term plan to hook the rich old guy, soak him, then eliminate him.

Then there was the ex-wife, who might have gained revenge and satisfaction in paying him back for dumping her.

Could be Pettibone wasn't the saint people were making him out to be. He might have known Julianna. He might have been one of her potential targets a decade ago, someone she'd seduced into an affair. Or she could have researched him while she was in prison, then played with him after her release.

That angle was high on her list, but it was too early to dismiss any possibility. To know the killer, know the victim, she thought. This time she knew the killer, but to find the motive, she had to learn more about Pettibone. And reacquaint herself with Julianna Dunne.

At the end of twenty laps, feeling loose and limber, she slicked her hair back and stood in the shallows. As she started to hoist herself out, she caught a movement among the jungle of plants. Her head snapped up; her body braced.

"Well, if that's what the bad guys see before you arrest them, it's a wonder they don't fall to their knees begging for mercy."

Phoebe stepped forward, holding a towel. "I'm sorry," she added. "I know you didn't hear me come in. I got caught up watching you. You swim like a fish, in the best sense of the term."

Because she was also naked as a fish, Eve took the towel, quickly wrapped herself in it. "Thanks."

"Roarke said you'd be down here. I brought you some coffee." She took an oversized mug off the table. "And one of Sam's amazing croissants. I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your hospitality."

"No problem. You, ah, settle in okay?"

"It would be hard to do otherwise here. Do you have a minute, or are you in a rush?" "Well, I-"

"The croissant's fresh." She held out the plate, close enough that the fragrance of it hypnotized. "Sam managed to charm Summerset into letting him use the kitchen."

"I can take a minute." Because putting on a robe would mean taking off the towel first, she sat as she was. And because Phoebe was watching her, she broke off a corner of the croissant.

"It's great." And immediately broke off another piece. "Seriously great." "Sam's a brilliant cook. Eve-can I call you Eve? I know most don't."

Maybe it was that steady look, or the tone of voice or a combination of both, but Eve found herself wanting to squirm in her chair. "Sure, okay." "I make you uncomfortable. I wish I didn't."

"No, you..." She did squirm. "I'm just not good with people."