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"Hidden room?" Peabody tried to angle it. "That's so iced."
"Back up, you're in my light. It's got to be here. Wait. Hell. Give me something to pry with."
"I've got something." Peabody dug in her bag for her Swiss Army knife, selected the slim opener, and offered it.
"Were you a Girl Scout?"
"All the way to Eagle level, sir."
Eve grunted, slid the opener into the minute crack in the glossy ivory wall. It slipped out twice before she got some leverage, and hissing out an oath, she shoved it hard. The little door swung open to reveal a control panel.
"Okay, let's bypass this sucker." She worked for five cramped minutes, shifted her weight on her knees, wiped sweat off her face, and started again.
"Why don't you let me have a go at it, Dallas?"
"You don't know any more about electronics than I do. Hell with it. Step back." She rose, her shoulder bumping solidly into Peabody's nose. Peabody had a minute to yelp, check for blood, then Eve had her weapon out.
"Oh, sir, you don't need to—"
Eve blasted the control lock. Circuits sizzled, chips flew, and the panel of ivory slid smoothly apart.
"What's that fairy tale code? Open sesame." Eve stepped inside a small, pie-slice room, eyed the sleek control panel, the snazzy equipment that reminded her, a bit uncomfortably, of what Roarke had behind a locked door. "This," Eve said, "is where Cassandra worked."
She ran her fingers over controls, tried manual and verbal commands. The machines stayed silent.
"They'll be passcoded," she murmured, "and unregistered, and likely have a couple of traps laid in."
"Should I send for Captain Feeney?"
"No." Eve rubbed her cheek. "I've got an expert only minutes from this location." She dug out her 'link and called Roarke.
• • •
He took one look at the fried control panel and shook his head. "You'd only to call."
"I got in, didn't I?"
"Yes, but there's something to be said for finesse, Lieutenant."
"There's something to be said for speed. I don't mean to rush you—"
"Then don't." He moved into the room, let his eyes adjust to the dim light. "Set up your night flash until I can get the room controls working."
He took a slim penlight out of his pocket and, sitting at the controls, clamped it between his teeth in a technique favored by burglars.
Eve saw Peabody's eyes register appreciation and speculation, and moved between them. "Take the vehicle and get to my home office. Get ready to receive data. We'll send through what we find here. Put the rest of the team on alert."
"Yes, sir." But she craned her neck to see over Eve's shoulder. Roarke had removed his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his white silk shirt. The man had fabulous definition in his arms. "Are you sure you don't want me to assist here?"
"Beat it." Eve bent to dig a light out of her field kit. "I still see your shoes," she said mildly. "Which means the rest of you has yet to follow orders."
Her shoes pivoted smartly and marched away.
"Do you have to look so sexy when you do that?" Eve demanded. "You distract my aide."
"Just one of life's little hurdles. Ah, I won't need that flash after all. Lights," he ordered and the room brightened.
"Good. See if you can find the controls that open this paper file over here." She turned to a cabinet. "I'd blast it, but I might damage the data inside."
