Naked in Death - J. D. Robb [116]
Ego, she remembered. Not just intelligence, but ego and vanity. “You had to think fast,” she commented. “And you did. Fast and brilliantly.”
“Yes.” His smile spread. “He called me on the car ’link, told me to come up quickly. He was half mad with fear. If I hadn’t calmed him, she might have succeeded in ruining him.”
“You can blame her?”
“She was a whore. A dead whore.” He shrugged it off, but held the gun steady. “I gave the senator a sedative, and I cleaned up the mess. As I explained to him, it was necessary to make Sharon only part of the whole. To use her failings, her pathetic choice of profession. It was a simple matter to doctor the security discs. The senator’s penchant for recording his sexual activities gave me the idea to use that as part of the pattern.”
“Yes,” she said through numbed lips. “That was clever.”
“I wiped the place down, wiped the gun. Since he’d been sensible enough not to use one that was registered, I left it behind. Again, establishing pattern.”
“So you used it,” Eve said quietly. “Used him, used Sharon.”
“Only fools waste opportunities. He was more himself once we were away,” Rockman mused. “I was able to outline the rest of my plan. Using Simpson to apply pressure, leak information. It was unfortunate that the senator didn’t remember until later to tell me about Sharon’s diaries. I had to risk going back. But, as we know now, she was clever enough to hide them well.”
“You killed Lola Starr and Georgie Castle. You killed them to cover up the first murder.”
“Yes. But unlike the senator, I enjoyed it. From beginning to end. It was a simple matter to select them, choose names, locations.”
It was a little difficult at the moment to enjoy the fact that she’d been right, and her computer wrong. Two killers after all. “You didn’t know them? You didn’t even know them?”
“Did you think I should?” He laughed at that. “Who they were hardly mattered. Only what. Whores offend me. Women who spread their legs to weaken a man offend me. You offend me, lieutenant.”
“Why the discs?” Where the hell was Feeney? Why wasn’t a roving unit breaking down her door right now? “Why did you send me the discs?”
“I liked watching you scramble around like a mouse after cheese—a woman who believed she could think like a man. I pointed you at Roarke, but you let him talk you onto your back. All too typical. You disappointed me. You were emotional, lieutenant: over the deaths, over that little girl you didn’t save. But you got lucky. Which is why you’re about to become very unlucky.”
He sidestepped over to the dresser where he had a camera waiting. He switched it on. “Take off your clothes.”
“You can kill me,” she said as her stomach began to churn. “But you’re not going to rape me.”
“You’ll do exactly what I want you to do. They always do.” He lowered the gun until it pointed at her midsection. “With the others, it was a shot to the head first. Instant death, probably painless. Do you have any idea what sort of pain you’ll experience with a forty-five slug in your gut? You’ll be begging me to kill you.”
His eyes lit brilliantly. “Strip.”
Eve’s hands fell to her sides. She’d face the pain, but not the nightmare. Neither of them saw the cat slink into the room.
“Your choice, lieutenant,” Rockman said, then jerked when the cat brushed between his legs.
Eve sprang forward, head low, and used the force of her body to drive him against the wall.
chapter twenty
Feeney stopped on his way back from the eatery, a half a soy burger in his hand. He loitered by the coffee dispenser, gossiping with a couple of cops on robbery detail. They swapped stories, and Feeney decided he could use one more cup of coffee before calling it a night.
He nearly bypassed his office altogether, with visions of an evening in front of the TV screen and a nice cold beer swimming in his head. His wife might even be up for a little cuddle if he was lucky.
But he was a creature of habit. He breezed in to make certain his precious computer was secured for the night. And heard Eve