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“You know every damn thing.”
“That’s flattering, Lieutenant, but domestic activities such as silver polishing are just slightly out of my aegis. Ask Summerset.”
“I don’t want to. That would require speaking to him on a voluntary basis. I’ll tag somebody in the lab.”
But when she started to reach for her ’link, Roarke simply waved her away, and contacted his majordomo on the house ’link. “Summerset, does silver polish leave a coating of any sort on the metal?”
Thin-faced, pale of complexion, and dark of eye, Summerset filled the ’link screen. “On the contrary, if properly done the polish is buffed away or the silver would be cloudy, and the process removes a minute layer of the metal.”
“Thank you. Helpful?” he asked Eve when he’d ended transmission.
“Just plugging holes. Do you sell silver wire?”
“Oh, I imagine.”
“Yeah, so did I.”
“If you’d like help tracing the murder weapon—”
“McNab’s on it. We’ll see how far we can fumble without you in that area.”
“Of course. But you did want to discuss something with me.”
“Yeah. Where’s your pal?”
“Mick’s enjoying the pool. And we’ve a couple of hours before our guests begin to arrive.”
“Okay.” But she rose, walked across the room, and closed her office door. And standing there, looked back, studying the man she loved, had married, and lived with. “The hit, if we accept the theory that this was a hired job, cost two million plus expenses, at the minimum. Who would spend that much to inconvenience or embarrass or upset you?”
“I can’t tell you. There are certainly a number of competitors, professional rivals, or foes, those who have a personal dislike for me who have the financial resources to invest that much money to disturb me.”
“How many of that number wouldn’t see murder as too high a price?”
“In business?” He lifted his hands. “I’ve made a lot of enemies, certainly, but the battles are generally waged in meeting rooms, over ledgers. While it’s not unthinkable that one of them might reach flash point and decide eliminating me is a worthwhile business move, I can’t think of a reason, logically, why killing a maid in one of my hotels would answer.”
“Not all your battles used to be waged in meeting rooms, or over ledgers.”
“No. But even they were direct. If we’re dealing with an old grudge, it would still be me or mine targeted. I didn’t even know that girl.”
“There.” She stepped forward now, moving in on him, her eyes on his face. “That’s the point I keep circling back to. It hurts you, it preys on your mind. And it pisses you off.”
“There are other ways to accomplish all of that without killing an innocent girl.”
“Who wouldn’t care?” she insisted. “Past or present. What major deals do you have going on right now where the balance could be shifted if you’re not focused, not on top of it. Olympus? When we took those few days last week you spent a lot of time fixing stuff.”
“The sort of thing that’s expected to arise in a project of that size and scope. It’s under control.”
“Would it be if you weren’t at the helm?”
He considered. “There might be some added delays, costs, some complications, but, yes, I have a strong team in every area of that project. As I do on all major holdings. I’m not indispensable, Eve.”
“Bullshit.” She said it with such force, it startled him. “You have your finger on every button in every deal or organization. The whole damn mess you’ve built would spin without you, fine, but it wouldn’t spin the same way. There’s only one you. Who’ve you bumped up against who doesn’t want to play it your way?”
“No one in particular. In any case, if someone wanted to yank my attention away from a project, cause me to neglect it, the most certain way of doing that would have been to try for you.”
“And have you hound them until they’re no more than husks you can kick into dust? I don’t think so.”
He skimmed a finger down the shallow dent in her chin. “You have a point.”
