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“It’s not good enough.”

“When it’s the best you can do, it’s good enough. But maybe Roarke will play it with you sometime. Maybe he’ll show you some of his tricks.”

A spark of interest lit her face. “Do you think?”

“You can ask him and see. Hello, Officer Trueheart.”

“Dr. Mira. Nice to see you.”

“Do you know all the police?” Nixie wanted to know.

“No, not all. But quite a few. I’d like to talk to you again, Nixie, but first I wonder if you could show me how to play that machine. It looks like fun.”

“I guess. If you want.”

“I do. I’ll need to turn off the screen first.”

“But it’s Mavis. She’s the ult.”

“Oh, I think so, too.” Mira smiled at the cool suspicion in Nixie’s eyes. “I have quite a few of her discs myself. Did you know Lieutenant Dallas and Mavis are friends? Very good friends.”

“Get back!” Then she bit her lip. “Excuse me, I’m not supposed to sass adults.”

“That’s all right. You were just surprised. Eve?”

“Huh?” She’d been wondering why seeing a mostly naked Mavis, and company, on-screen was inappropriate for a kid who’d seen murder up close and personal. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, Mavis and I are pals.”

“You talk to her, in person?”

“Well, sure.”

“Does she ever come here, right to the house?”

“All the time.” Eve was treated to that long, unblinking stare again. Shifted her stance. Thought about security and procedure. Felt her bones start to burn under that stare. “Listen, if I can swing it, and she’s not busy, I’ll see if she can come by sometime. You can meet her and . . . whatever.”

“For real?”

“No, for false. Jesus, kid.”

“You’re not supposed to swear in front of me.” Nixie informed her of this, quite primly.

“Then turn around so I can swear behind you. You straight here now?” Eve asked, just a little desperately, of Mira. “I’ve got work.”

“We’re fine.”

“Trueheart, with me.”

“Yes, sir. See you later, Nixie.”

But before she got to the door, Nixie trotted up behind her. “Dallas. They all call you Dallas,” she said when Eve looked back. “Except for her. For the doctor.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Are you going away to work?”

“No, I’m going to work here for a while.”

“Okay.” She walked back to Mira. “I’ll show you how to play now.”

Awhile” was hours. McNab might’ve exaggerated about their ears bleeding, but Eve thought her eyes might. She ran search after search, waiting for names to cross. When the sun went down and the light in her office dimmed, she programmed more coffee, and kept going.

“Food.” Roarke walked in. “You’ve sent your team home for food, to recharge, to rest. Do the same for yourself.”

“There’s going to be a match. Has to be.”

“And the computer can continue the runs while you eat. We’re going downstairs.”

“Why down—oh.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Right. What are we supposed to talk to her about now?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

“You know what? She’s a little scary. I think all of that breed is. Kids I mean. It’s like they know stuff you’ve forgotten, but they still hammer you with questions. She rocked up, though, when Mira told her I was friends with Mavis.”

“Ah.” He sat on the corner of the desk. “A Mavis fan. Considerable conversation to be mined there.”

“And she wants you to play pinball with her. She’s got a competitive streak, seems like. She’s a little bent she can’t meet your scores.”

“Really?” His smile bloomed. “I’d enjoy that. I’ll take her down for a bit after dinner. Good practice for when we have a brood of our own.”

She didn’t pale, but her eyes did go glassy. “Are you trying to wig me?”

“It’s fairly irresistible. Come on.” He held out a hand. “Be a good girl and come to dinner.”

Before she could rise, her ’link beeped. “Minute,” she said, and noted the commander’s home data on the ID. “It’s Whitney.” Without thinking about it she straightened up in the chair, squared her shoulders. “Dallas.”

“Lieutenant. The safe house on Ninety-second has been hit.”

“Ninety-second.” Not trusting her mental file, she flipped her fingers over the keyboard to bring up the