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"Now you can tell him he doesn't have to."

"He should hear it from you. You weren't wrong," she said before Eve could speak. "And it'll matter more."

• • •

Zeke's hands dangled between his knees. Slumped over, he stared at them as if they belonged to a stranger. "I don't understand this." He spoke slowly, again as if the voice were someone else's and just happened to come out of his mouth. "You say it was a droid that just looked like Mr. Branson."

"You didn't kill anyone, Zeke." Eve leaned toward him. "Get that in your head first."

"But he fell. He hit his head. There was blood."

"It fell, as it was directed to fall. There was blood because blood had been injected under its skin shield. Branson's blood. It was put there to make you think you'd killed him."

"But why? I'm sorry, Dallas, but that's just crazy."

"Part of a game. He's dead—his body conveniently disposed of by his terrified and abused wife who's now run away. They can be anyone they want to be, anywhere they want to be, and with a big pile of money to hide in. They thought they'd have a lot more by the time we figured this out. If we ever did."

"He hit her." Zeke's head snapped up. "I heard it—I saw it."

"A show, an act. A few bruises were a small price to pay for winning the whole match. They'd already arranged for his brother's death. They had to be able to access all the fluid cash from the company. Once B. D.'s gone—branded, they'd hoped, as a wife beater, marital rapist, they pick up their new lives. He's cleaned out the cash flow from all accounts. We'd probably have looked at that as just one more vicious act on his part. But they left holes."

He shook his head, and fighting impatience, she tried to explain quickly. "Why does a man like that let his wife go off to a spa out west, spend time on her own? He doesn't even trust her out of the front door from what she told me in interview. But he lets her bring you into the house. He's insanely jealous, but it's fine and dandy to have a young, good-looking guy in the same house with his wife all day. And she can barely decide to get out of bed in the morning, but she gets in gear, orders a droid to ditch her dead husband's body, and gets it done in the time it takes you to get her a glass of water. All while she's in shock."

"She can't have been involved," Zeke whispered.

"It's the only way it can play. She's lived with a man she claims beats her for nearly ten years, but she's ready to leave him to go with you, someone she barely knows—and this after two conversations about her situation."

"We fell in love."

"She loves no one. She used you. I'm sorry."

"You don't know." His voice lowered and went fierce. "You can't know what we felt for each other. What she felt for me."

"Zeke—"

Eve simply lifted her fingers from her knee to stop Peabody's protest. "You're right, I can't know what you felt. But I can know that you killed no one. I can know that the woman who said she loved you set you up to take the fall. I can know that that same woman was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people this last week. One of them was a friend of mine. That I can know."

She rose, started to walk out of the room, when Mavis burst in.

"Hey, Dallas!" Smile brilliant, hair a purple explosion of curls, eyes the disconcerting shade of copper, Mavis threw open her arms and sent the twelve-inch emerald fringe running from armpit to wrist flying. "I'm back."

"Mavis." Eve struggled to switch gears from the miserable to the absurd. "I thought you were back next week."

"That was last week, now it is next week. Dallas, man, I was seismic! Hey, Peabody." Her laughing eyes landed on Zeke and sobered even as she winced. Even someone dancing on Mavis's level of happy could sense the anger and grief. "Oops, bad timing, huh?"

"No. It's great. Come outside a minute." Eve jerked her head at Peabody, signaling her to deal with Zeke, and moved outside the office with Mavis. "It's good to see you." And suddenly it was more than good. Mavis, with her stupendously ridiculous wardrobe, her ever-changing hair, her sheer delight with herself, was the perfect antidote for misery.

"It's great to see you." Eve caught her in a fierce embrace that had Mavis giggling even as she gave Eve's back soothing pats.

"Wow. You missed me."

"I did. I really did." Eve stepped back and grinned at her. "You kicked ass, didn't you?"

"I did. I really did." The narrow corridor didn't stop Mavis from turning three fast circles on her platform airpumps. "It was orbital, it was mag, it was beyond the ult. I came to see you, but my next stop is Roarke, and I figure I should warn you I'm going to kiss him hard right on the mouth."

"No tongues."

"Spoilsport." Mavis shook back her curls, angled her head. "You look beat, wasted, absolutely dead."

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