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“The night you and Roarke came by the studio to watch the session. Seemed to me you two were pretty eager to leave, to be alone.” His smile sharpened at the corners. “A little honeymoon revisited?”
She kept her hands behind the desk a moment until she could unclutch her fists. She glanced over toward the door of Roarke’s connecting office, and saw with a jolt that the monitoring light blinked green over it.
He was watching, she realized. That was not only illegal, but dangerous under the circumstances. She flicked her eyes back to Jess. She couldn’t afford to break rhythm. “It seems you’re unusually interested in my sex life.”
“I told you, you fascinate me, Dallas. You’ve got a mind. It’s fucking steel, with all these dark spaces burned into it. I wonder what would happen if you opened those spaces. And sex is a master key.” He leaned forward, eyes locked on hers. “What do you dream, Dallas?”
She remembered the dreams, the sick horror of them, the night she’d watched the disc of Mavis. The disc he’d given her. Her hands trembled once before she could control them. “You son of a bitch.” She rose slowly, planted her hands on the desk. “You like giving demonstrations, asshole? Is that what Mathias was to you? A demonstration?”
“I told you, I don’t know who that is.”
“Maybe you needed an autotron tech to perfect your system. Then you tried it out on him. You had his brain waves, so you programmed them in. Did you program in him tying his own noose and slipping it around his neck, or did you leave the method up to him?”
“You just veered way out of orbit.”
“And Pearly? What’s the connection there? Political statement? Were you looking ahead? You’re a real visionary. He’d have tossed his weight against legalizing your new toy. Why not use it on him?”
“Hold it. Hold it.” He got to his feet. “You’re talking about murder. Christ, you’re trying to wrap me up with murder.”
“Then Fitzhugh. Did you need a couple more demonstrations, Jess? Or did you just get a taste for it? Powerful, isn’t it, being able to kill without getting your hands bloody?”
“I never killed anyone. You can’t wrap this on me.”
“Devane was a bonus, with the media right there. You got to watch. I bet you really love to watch, don’t you, Jess? I bet you got hot watching. Like you got hot thinking about where you’d push Roarke tonight with your goddamn toy.”
“That’s what’s rocking you, isn’t it?” Furious, he leaned on the desk. His smile wasn’t charming now, but feral. “You want to sting me because I wired into your man. You should be thanking me. I bet the two of you fucked like wild minks.”
Her hand was in a fist, her fist slamming into his jaw before her brain registered the act. He went down like a stone, face first, arms splayed, and sent her ’link flying.
“Goddamn it.” Breath hitching, she uncurled her fist, clutched it again. “Goddamn it.”
Peabody’s voice came cool and calm through the buzzing in her ears. “Let the backup record show that subject physically threatened the lieutenant during questioning. As a result, subject lost his balance and struck his head on the desk. He appears to be momentarily stunned.”
While Eve could do no more than stare at her, Peabody rose, stepped over, and dragged Jess up by the collar of his shirt. She held him there a moment, as if considering his condition. His knees sagged, his eyes rolled back white.
“That’s affirmative,” she stated, then dumped him into a chair. “Lieutenant Dallas, I believe your recorder has been damaged.” With a brush of her hand, Peabody tipped Eve’s coffee onto the unit, effectively frying its chips. “Mine is in working order and will be sufficient for reporting this interview. Are you injured?”
“No.” Eve shut her eyes, snapped her control back into place. “No, I’m fine. Thank you. The interview breaks at oh one thirty-three. Subject Jess Barrow will be transported to the Brightmore Health Center for examination and treatment, and there be detained until nine hundred hours, when this interview will continue at Cop Central. Officer Peabody, please arrange for transport. Subject is to be held for questioning, charges pending.”
“Yes, sir.” Peabody glanced over as the door to Roarke’s office slid open. It only took one look at his face to realize that there might be trouble. “Lieutenant,” she began, careful to keep the recorder turned away. “I’m getting interference on my communicator, and your ’link may have been damaged when the subject knocked it to the floor. Permission to use another room to send for the MTs.”
“Go ahead,” Eve said and sighed as she watched Roarke come in and Peabody stride out. “You had no business monitoring this interview,” she began.
“I beg to differ. I had every business.” He glanced down at the chair as Jess moaned and shifted. “He’s coming around. I’d like my moment with him now.”
“Listen, Roarke—”
He cut her off with one swift, ice-edged stare. “Now, Eve. Leave us alone.”
That was the trouble between them, she decided. Both of them were so used to giving orders that neither of them took orders well. But she remembered the stricken look in his eyes when he’d backed away from her. They had both been used, she thought, but Roarke had been victimized.
“You’ve got five minutes. That’s it. And I’m going to warn you right now. The record shows he’s relatively undamaged. If there are marks on him, it’s going to swing back on me and compromise my case against him.”
His lips twitched in a bare flicker of a smile as he took her arm and led her to the door. “Lieutenant, give me some credit. I’m a civilized man.” He shut the door in her face, locked it.
And, he thought, he knew how to cause great discomfort to the human body without leaving so much as a dent.
He walked over, hauled Jess out of the chair, and shook him until his eyes blinked into focus. “Awake now, are you?” Roarke said softly. “And aware?”
