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“Watch it, ace. Who says I can’t want a break? If I want a favor, it doesn’t have to connect.”
“I see. Well then, here’s what I’ll bring to the table. I’ll give you your favor, whatever it may be, in exchange for a week of your time anywhere I want to go.”
“A week’s out. I’ve got court dates, paperwork. Three days.”
Negotiations, he thought, were his favorite hobby. “Five days now, five days next month.”
“That’s ten days, not a week. Even I can do the math on that. Three days now, two days next month.”
“Four now, three next month.”
“All right, all right.” Her head was starting to spin. “I’ll work it out.”
“Then we have a deal.” He offered his hand, clasped hers.
“So, are we going to the beach?”
“We can do that. The Olympus Resort has a stunning man-made beach.”
“Olympus.” She blanched. “Off planet? I’m not going off planet. That’s got to be a deal breaker.”
“Deal’s done. Buck up. Now, what’s the favor?”
She sulked. It was a rare attitude for her, but she was damn good at it. “It’s not even a big favor.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you tried to scam me. You might have, if you’d had a decent breakfast instead of ice cream.”
“How did you—” She broke off, and the single word was a vicious hiss. “Summerset.”
“Now, when a woman asks her husband for a favor, it’s a lovely touch if she sits on his lap.” He patted his knee.
“You won’t have much of a lap if I break both your legs.” Seriously annoyed, she sat on the counter. “Look, it’s police business, and you always want to stick your nose in anyway. I’m giving you a chance.”
“Now, there you are.” Enjoying himself, he lifted a hand, palm up. “If you’d presented it that way initially, put me in the position of being given a favor rather than giving one, you wouldn’t have made what you consider a poor deal. And you wouldn’t be cross.”
“I’m not cross. You know I hate when you say I’m cross. And before I forget, what’s the deal with this Authorization One shit?”
“Did you buy something?” He handed her the rest of his coffee. “I must make a celebrational note on my calendar. Eve Dallas went shopping. Strike up the band.”
She scowled off into space. “I was in a pretty good mood before I came in here.”
“See, you’re cross. As to Authorization One, what sense does it make for you to pay for products manufactured by one of my companies?”
“Next time I’m going to a competitor. If I can find one.” She huffed out a breath, brought herself back on track. “I’m going to close the case today. I’ve worked it how to smoke out the killer, get a confession. It’s roundabout,” she murmured. “I have reasons not to take the straight line. I had to do a tap dance for Whitney to clear it. If it doesn’t work…” She trailed off.
“What do you need?”
“To start, I need your theater. And I need you to help me script and produce a little performance.”
• • •
An hour later. Eve was on her way to Central, and Roarke was making the first phone call.
In her office, Eve loaded the disc recording of the play in her computer. With her mind elsewhere, she barely noted how smoothly the disc was accepted, how clear the audio and video. When she ordered it to fast-forward to the final scene, it did so without a single bump.
There they were, she thought. Draco as Vole blithely confessing to a murder he could no longer be charged with. His face handsome, smug, as he drew Carly’s hand, Diana’s hand, through his arm.
And she stood by him, pretty and charming, with a loving smile.
