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“Run it through, then you’re going to hook up with Feeney for some OT in the field.”

“Feeney?”

“We’re splitting his match list, such as it is. I want to cover as much territory as we can, tonight. You saddle with Feeney. I’m bringing Roarke in. He’s mostly up to speed anyway. Saves me briefing another badge.”

She paused, sat on the corner of her desk. “Listen, if you get lucky, and pop on this guy tonight, remember, he’s not going to let you take him down easy.”

“You’re not going to tell me to be careful, are you?”

“I’m going to tell you to be good. Stay sharp. You pop him, and he goes for either of you, he’ll go for you first.”

“Female.”

“Right. He’ll hurt you if he can.”

“So don’t let him. And right back at you, sir.”

“Give Feeney the rest of the description. Keep it in your head. Maybe he wears a rug, so—”

“Dallas, this isn’t my first flight out of the nest.”

“Right. Right, right.” Restless, she got up, but bypassed coffee for water. Overcaffeinated, she told herself as she opened the bottle. “I got bad vibes, is all.”

“Want me to call and check in when I get home, Mommy?”

“Scram.”

“Scramming.”

Eve dropped down at the desk, added her record of the session with Mira to her case file, and organized her notes into her daily report.

Roarke had told her he’d meet her at her office at seven-thirty if not before, so she had time. A little time. She started the research on eye sensitivities, then let the computer hum along while she got up, paced to the window.

Bad vibes, she thought again, and looked out at her city.

It wasn’t extrasensory. What she had, what she did was, in her opinion, the antithesis of paranormal. It was elemental, maybe on some level even primitive—the way early man had known when to hunt and when to hide.

She’d say visceral except the word always sounded sort of pompous to her. And there was nothing pompous about cop work.

The vibes, for lack of a better word, were a combination of instinct and experience and a knowledge she had no inclination to analyze.

She knew he’d marked his next target. And could only wonder who, and where, he’d strike tonight.

Chapter 18

In his elegant dark business suit, Roarke circled Eve’s new vehicle while it was parked in her slot in Central’s garage. “Haven’t had a chance to really examine your upgrade. Long overdue, Lieutenant.”

“It does the job.”

“Better, one hopes, than your previous one.” He tapped the hood. “Release the hood latch.”

“Why?”

“So I can look at the engine.”

“Why? It runs. What else is there to know? Looking at it doesn’t change anything.”

He gave her a long, pitying smile. “Darling Eve, your absolute lack of interest and aptitude for mechanics is so female.”

“Watch it, pal.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know what’s under here?” He tapped the hood again. “What’s getting you where you’re going?”

“No.” Though he had stirred some mild curiosity. “Besides, I’m getting a later start on this than I’d planned. Let’s just move.”

“Well, let’s have the codes.” He lifted a brow when she frowned. “If you won’t let me play with it, you can at least let me drive it.”

She supposed it was fair. He was giving her the evening for work. She gave him the codes, then walked around to the passenger side. “The department appreciates your time and assistance, blah, blah.”

“Please, you’re much too effusive in your gratitude.”

He settled behind the wheel, adjusting the seat to his preference, scanning the dash. He judged the data and communication system to be middle-range. It baffled him that the NYPSD didn’t spring for top-of-the-line for their mobile situations.

He engaged the engine and wasn’t displeased by the sound. “You’ve got more power under you this time, at least.” Then he smiled at her. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

“It’s okay. I kept busy. And Feeney couldn’t wiggle loose until about twenty minutes ago, so he and Peabody are getting a late start with this, too.”

“Then let’s catch up.” He eased out of the slot, drove at a discreet speed to the