Naked in Death - J. D. Robb [89]
“I think you’re going to have to get used to having someone worry about you, Eve.”
That hadn’t been the plan. She walked out of the bedroom to get her jacket and bag. “I’m telling you this so that you’ll understand what I’m up against. Why I can’t split my energies and start analyzing what’s between us.”
“There’ll always be cases.”
“I hope to God there won’t always be cases like this one. This isn’t murder for gain, or out of passion. It isn’t desperate or frenzied. It’s cold and calculated. It’s . . .”
“Evil?”
“Yes.” It relieved her that he’d said it first. It didn’t sound so foolish. “Whatever we’ve done in genetic engineering, in vitro, with social programs, we still can’t control basic human failings: violence, lust, envy.”
“The seven deadly sins.”
She thought of the old woman and her poisoned pie. “Yeah. I’ve got to go.”
“Will you come to me when you’re off duty tonight?”
“I don’t know when I’ll log out. It could be—”
“Will you come?”
“Yeah.”
Then he smiled, and she knew he was waiting for her to make the move. She was sure he knew just how hard it was for her to cross to him, to bring her lips up, to press them, however casually, to his.
“See you.”
“Eve. You should have gloves.”
She decoded the door, tossed a quick smile over her shoulder. “I know—but I just keep losing them.”
Her up mood lasted until she walked into her office and found DeBlass and his aide waiting for her.
Deliberately, DeBlass stared at his gold watch. “More banker’s hours than police hours, Lieutenant Dallas.”
She knew damn well it was only minutes past eight, but shrugged out of her jacket. “Yeah, it’s a pretty lush life around here. Is there something I can do for you, senator?”
“I’m aware there’s been yet another murder. I’m obviously dissatisfied with your progress. However, I’m here for damage control. I do not want my granddaughter’s name linked with the two other victims.”
“You want Simpson for that, or his press secretary.”
“Don’t smirk at me, young woman.” DeBlass leaned forward. “My granddaughter is dead. Nothing can change that. But I will not have the DeBlass name sullied, muddied by the death of two common whores.”
“You seem to have a low opinion of women, senator.” She was careful not to smirk this time, but watched him, and considered.
“On the contrary; I revere them. Which is why those who sell themselves, those who disregard morality and common decency, revolt me.”
“Including your granddaughter?”
He lurched out of his chair, his face purpling, eyes bulging. Eve was quite certain he would have struck her if Rockman hadn’t stepped between them.
“Senator, the lieutenant is only baiting you. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”
“You will not besmirch my family.” DeBlass was breathing fast, and Eve wondered if he had any history of heart trouble. “My granddaughter paid dearly for her sins, and I will not see the rest of my loved ones dragged down into public ridicule. And I will not tolerate your vile insinuations.”
“Just trying to get my facts straight.” It was fascinating watching him battle for composure. He was having a rough time of it, she noted, hands shaking, chest heaving. “I’m trying to find the man who killed Sharon, senator. I assume that’s also high on your agenda.”
“Finding him won’t get her back.” He sat again, obviously exhausted by the outburst. “What’s important now is to protect what’s left. To do that, Sharon must be segregated from the other women.”
She didn’t like his opinion, but neither did she care for his color. It was still alarmingly high. “Can I get you some water, Senator DeBlass?”
He nodded, waved at her. Eve slipped into the corridor and dispensed a cup of bottled water. When she came back, his breathing was more regular, his hands a bit steadier.
“The senator has been overtaxing himself,” Rockman put in. “His Morals Bill goes before the House tomorrow. The pressure of this