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“Little things, adding up.” To a clearer picture, she thought. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m a bit crowded today, but I can look into it sometime late this afternoon if there’s still a need.”
“I’ll keep that in reserve.” She stepped closer. “But don’t screw with your work and time for this. I’m covered, and you’ve already done more than your part.”
“Over a hundred and twenty people are dead. I’ll make time if I’m needed.”
“I’ll let you know. Thanks for this.” She patted her pocket. “I’ll bone up on the way to Central.”
“It’s a dangerous world out there. Take care of my cop.”
“Don’t worry.”
Wishing he could give her what she asked, he watched her walk out.
With her mind on steps, angles, she hurried downstairs to find Summerset in the foyer. He held out her long leather coat.
“It’s been fitted with the body armor lining, as in your jacket,” he told her.
“Yeah?” Roarke, she thought, never a miss. She took the coat, tested the weight, studied the flexible, protective lining.
He might tell her to take care of his cop, but he often beat her to it.
“A cold front moved in,” Summerset said simply. “We’ve had a hard frost, and there’s a bitter wind this morning.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, knowing very well they were both aware he rarely greeted her in the morning, much less with a weather forecast. “I can’t giv
e you all the details, but we found a link between the suspect and Red Horse. I have to tighten it, but it’s a connection, maybe—probably—an important one.”
“I could be useful.”
“Be useful to him.” She glanced upstairs. “He’s let too much slide the last couple months. I’ve got this.”
“Then I wish you a very productive day.”
She stepped outside, found Summerset’s description of the wind exactly on target. The bitter blew straight into her bones before she jumped into the vehicle—heater already running—at the base of the steps.
She plugged in the disc Roarke had given her, started to order it on audio. Then gave herself permission to deal with personal business first.
A sleepy-eyed, slurry-voiced Mavis came up on her in-dash screen.
“Hey. Guess I woke you up.”
“Not so much. We’re all having a snuggle. We put in a late night, and Belle woke up early.”
“Okay. Sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you. You texted you were all in Florida. Still?”
“Miami. We zipped down a couple days ago. I had a two-night gig, and Leonardo’s meeting with some totally-too-tanned clients while we’re here. We’re good.”
“Why don’t you stay down there until I get back to you?”
There was a rustle, baby-voiced babbling, and a low rumble that must have been Leonardo. “That’s affirmative.” Mavis shook back her hair, a cotton-candy pink froth sparkling with some sort of silvery overlay. “Weather’s mag, and we got a place with our own pool. Bellarina’s our little mermaid. We got the skinny off screen. What the you-know-what, Dallas.”
“I can’t give you the details, but we’re working it. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”
“There’s lots of buzz about terrorism.”
“It’s not, but it’s messy. Just stay sunny.”
