Now, it's war. And so far, she's taken all the important battles." She picked up a laser pointer from her desk, ran its needle-point light over the screen. "These three buildings would give her the best access to my office window.

We need a tenant list."

She caught the look that passed between Feeney and Roarke, then shot Feeney one of her own as Roarke slipped into his own office.

"He'll get it faster." Feeney lifted his coffee cup, but not quite in time to hide the grin.

She let it pass. "We'd be looking for a leased space, short-term.

Month-by-month is probable. She wouldn't spend a lot of time there.

She'd have surveillance equipment set up, feed it into another location where she could comfortably study and assess. But she was there yesterday, personally, because she'd decided to move on me."

Eve saw herself, standing at her office window, looking out. She put herself back there, behind that narrow glass, and studied the buildings and windows across the street.

"This one gets my vote." She ringed one of the buildings in light. "Or if there wasn't space available on one of these levels..." She ran a line through five stories. "This building. Those are her best angles.

Hold on a minute."

She walked into Roarke's office where he sat at his desk while his equipment hummed with efficiency. "I've got a priority location," she told him. "I want you to list that one so I can run a probability."

"I'm running probabilities, on all three. Though I think that's your location."

She glanced at his screen where he had the same visual up, and the building she'd earmarked highlighted. "Showoff."

"Come sit on my lap and say that. You'd be looking for short-term leases, I imagine, and would want the run to move from the latest rentals back. How am I doing?"

"You bucking to make that expert consultant, civilian gig permanent?"

"Wouldn't that be fun?" He patted his knee, but she ignored him. "Ah, well, so much for fringe benefits. Your probabilities are coming up. I did these by line of sight. Easy enough to punch her data from your files into the mix and whittle this down considerably."

"Just wait." She scanned the list of names that he ordered on-screen.

"Bam! Daily Enterprises. Justine Daily, proprietor. That's our girl."

She wanted to move, fast and hard, but reined herself in. "We'll be sure first. Dump this data onto my unit, would you? Let's try to keep this investigation reasonably official."

"Of course. Lieutenant? I'll be going with you on this bust. Wait," he said as she opened her mouth. "However slim the chance you'll find her there, I'm going to be a part of it. She owes me."

"You can't get whacked out every time I get banged up on the job."

"Can't I?" The easy lilt had gone out of his voice, chilling it. "She's got a mind to come after us both, so I'm in this. I'll be there when you take her down. Whenever, wherever that might be."

"Just remember who's taking her down." She turned back into her office. "Feeney, we've got a Justine Daily in the primary building.

Data's in my unit. Run a background on her, and her Daily Enterprises."

"Likes sticking with her own initials." He rose to take McNab's place at Eve's desk. "Those are the little foibles that screw bad guys to the wall." "I'm going to be the foible that screws her." Eve went to her 'link and requested the search-and-seize warrant, and the manpower to enforce it.

In under an hour, she was moving down the corridor toward the offices of Daily Enterprises. The stairways were blocked, the elevators shut down. All exits were covered.

And she knew in her gut they wouldn't find Julianna Dunne.

Still, she would see it through, and motioned her team into place with hand signals. She drew her weapon, then flipped out her master and prepared to bypass the locks.

Pulled back.

"Wait. She'd have thought of this. She'd have counted on this." She stared hard at the cheap door, the cheap locks, then crouched down for a closer study. "I need some microgoggles here. A boom scan."

"You figure she booby-trapped the door?" Feeney pursed his lips, crouched down with her. "She never worked with explosives before." "You learn a lot of handy household hints in prison."

Feeney nodded. "Yeah, that you do."

"You see anything hinky?"

"Old locks. Feeble shit. Standard alarm from the looks of the panel.

Want to call in the bomb sniffers?"

"Maybe. I'm trying to out-think her, but I don't want pieces of my team scattered all over this hallway." She glanced up. Roarke was moving in behind her.

"Why don't you let me have a look?" He already was, hunkering down and dancing those nimble fingers over the panel, the frame of the door. He drew his PPC out of his pocket, programmed in a task code, then interfaced it to the panel by a hair-thin cable.

"It's hot," he confirmed.

"Back. Pull back." Eve gestured to her team as she yanked out her communicator. "Clear civilians off this floor, and the ones directly above and below."

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant, if you'll just give me a minute here." Roarke already had the panel open by the time she turned back.

"Get the hell away from there." She took two strides back to him, then stopped herself. She'd seen him defuse devices a great deal more destructive than a door blaster.

"There." He spoke calmly to Feeney as he worked with tiny silver tools. "You see it?" "Yep, I do now. Not my field, but I've seen a few homemades in my time."

"Amateurish, but effective. She'd have done better to take more time, add in a couple of secondaries, or at least one failsafe. It's set to trip when the door's open. Very elementary. She'd have a bypass, of course, so she wouldn't ruin her manicure by blowing her fingers off."

His hands were rock steady. He paused only once, to shake his hair back away from his face. When he did, Eve saw the cold gleam of concentration on it.

"Not particularly powerful this. Wouldn't have killed anyone who'd been five or six feet back. That'll do it." He replaced his tools, stood again.

Eve didn't ask if he was sure. He was always sure. She gave the all-clear signal to her team, then indulged herself by leaving her master in her pocket. And kicking in the door.

She swept the door with her weapon, then gestured for Feeney to take the adjoining washroom.

There were a couple of ratty chairs, a dented desk. And a scent in the air that was both female and expensive. She'd left the communications center and a small, exotic arrangement of fresh flowers.

Eve stepped to the window, looked out, across, and into her own office. "She'd have needed equipment. You can't see enough from here with the naked eye. Good equipment she wasn't willing to leave behind. Start knocking on doors," she ordered without turning around. "Talk to the other tenants, see who knows what. Find the building manager, get him up here. All building security discs. Feeney run the 'link and data center."

"Sir." Peabody cleared her throat. "This was in the flowers."

She handed Eve a small envelope marked eve dallas. Inside was a handwritten card and a data disc. The card read: With best wishes for your speedy recovery, -Julianna

"Bitch," Eve grumbled, turning the disc over in her hand. "Feeney, disperse the men. We won't be finding her here today. Peabody, call in the sweepers."

She turned the disc over again, then plugged it into the desk unit.

"Run data," she ordered.

Julianna's face swam on-screen-a blue-eyed blonde now, and the closest to her own coloring and style than any of her looks since she'd started her latest murder spree.

"Good morning, Lieutenant." She spoke in the lazy, somewhat breathy Texas drawl Eve remembered. "I'm assuming that salutation is correct. I doubt you'd have managed to get this far last night-but I have such confidence in your abilities that I'm certain you'll be playing this before afternoon. Feeling better, I hope. And as you're playing this, you detected and defused my little welcome gift. It was really just an afterthought."

She angled her head and continued to smile. But it was the eyes Eve studied. Eyes that were like ice over a deep, empty pit.