Page 48 of Calculated in Death


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It didn’t matter, and the answer couldn’t be known.

Put it away, she ordered herself.

Then it came so clear. She’d missed it, too wrapped up in the rest of the investigation.

“She thought of them.”

“Hmm?”

“Marta—the vic. She thought of her kids, her husband, when they had her. She thought of them because she didn’t tell them everything. I figured she’d told them everything, but she didn’t. She didn’t tell them she’d copied the files to her home unit. They hurt her, they scared her, they threatened her and in the end they killed her. But she protected her family.”

“What she loved most,” he said and brushed his lips over her hair. “Sleep now. Rest that brain.”

For reasons she couldn’t understand, knowing she’d been right, the mother had protected the children, she closed her eyes and slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

SHE WOKE TO THE SCENT OF COFFEE AND A quietly simmering fire—and to Roarke in one of his slick dark suits monitoring the stock reports from the sofa of the sitting area.

She considered it an excellent way to start the day. Or it would be as soon as she had that coffee and cleared the fog from her brain.

She rolled out, shuffled over, and poured a large mug from the pot Roarke had on the table.

“You look rested, Lieutenant.”

“Feel that way. Mostly.” She gulped coffee on her way to the bathroom.

When she came out, wrapped in a robe she suspected was cashmere, bowls of berries, rashers of bacon, and plates of French toast sat on the coffee table. Grateful he hadn’t decided, as he often did, she needed oatmeal, she dropped down beside him.

“Nice.”

“I thought we both deserved a bit of a treat.” Roarke lifted his eyebrows when she broke off a piece of bacon and offered it to the cat who sat staring holes through her.

“For him, this is makeup sex. That’s all you get,” she said when Galahad inhaled the bacon then affectionately butted his head against her calf.

“Just FYI, if you let another man rub up against you, and I sniff it out, you won’t be able to buy me off with bacon.” He handed her the syrup pitcher so she could drown her French toast.

“So noted. What’s on your slate today?”

Once again, Roarke lifted his eyebrows.

“What? I can’t have an interest in how you bring home the bacon?” She bit into a piece, smiled. “And okay, I’m trying to get a feel for what these guys do on any given day. The money guys, the guys with the money. I’m going to have to look at the big shots in the companies the vic was auditing. You’re the biggest shot around, so...”

Saying nothing, Roarke took out his appointment book, keyed in the day, handed it to her.

“Seriously?” She shook her head as she ran through his day. “You’ve already had a holo-conference with these dudes in Hong Kong, and talked to this other guy in Sydney?”

“And fed the cat, that’s not in there.”

“Ha. Later this morning two more ’link conferences and an R&D meeting on something called Sentech.”

“Would you like me to explain Sentech?”

“No. I really don’t. Later, another holo about the Olympus Resort. How’s Darcia doing?” referring to Roarke’s police and security head on Olympus.

“Very well.”

“You know I hear Webster’s gone up there twice since she was here, and they...”

“Developed a relationship?” Roarke suggested.

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