Categories > Books > In Death1 Reviews
Nothing stands between a NYPSD lieutenant and her candy bars. Nothing.
Notes: This story takes place right after "Memory in Death," but there are no spoilers pertaining to the story. This story was written for the LiveJournal community 30kisses. The theme used was #1 on list Alpha - Conspiracy/Intrigue
"Where's Eve?" Roarke asked as he descended the stairs toward Summerset, who stood by the front door, hair windswept as if he'd just come in from outside.
Summerset raised an eyebrow at him. "The Lieutenant has gone out. When I inquired as to her whereabouts, she replied in her usual manner that she was heading to Cop Central."
Usual manner meant that they spent a good two to three minutes sniping at each other. A twinge of annoyance fluttered in the pit of Roarke's stomach. Eve had recently closed a very tough case involving her original foster mother. That, combined with Christmas, had left her feeling on edge. He'd intended to surprise her with a weekend getaway to Bimini, especially since he had made sure to enlist Peabody in making sure that Eve's slate was clean for three days.
"She doesn't have any open cases," Roarke muttered more to himself than to Summerset. He edged aside a curtain and watched the large, fluffy flakes of snow drift to the ground. "She's probably digging out something from her cold cases. She will never rest."
Summerset held his tongue in cheek. "The Lieutenant was carrying a large paper sack. If you check the Autochef, I'm willing to wager that a large amount of the chocolate we keep here has gone missing."
Roarke gave Summerset a bemused look before grinning. "It's a wager I'm not likely to take you up on. Have the Hummer brought around. I will let you know when we're enroute to Bimini."
"Of course." Summerset inclined his head slightly and moved to the link to key in the appropriate commands to bring around the car. After seeing Roarke out, he moved back to the link and brought up an inventory of the house's Autochefs. Noting that the rather large supply of the chocolate in Eve's office was completely gone, he smirked and placed an order to restock it.
Sunday afternoons in the bullpen, especially right after the beginning of the year, was completely dead. Eve navigated around the desks, keeping an eye out for the usual suspects. Peabody wasn't at her desk, their latest case had been closed less than 24 hours earlier. Baxter sat at his desk, talking away on a link to someone, his back turned to Eve. She quickly edged around him and into her office before he could take notice.
As soon as she was in the room, she closed the door, locked it.
Eve pivoted, hand on her stunner, then swore when she saw Roarke reclining in her chair. She marched over to him, jabbed a finger in his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"
"I've come to take my wife away to Bimini for a few days." Roarke tapped his fingers together lightly and enjoyed seeing the frustration and bafflement on Eve's face. "What are you doing here?"
"I work here, unlike you," Eve snarled and thumped the paper bag on the desk.
"Yes, but as I seem to recall, you don't have any open cases currently." Roarke angled his head slightly, just enough to see the glint of candy bar wrappers inside.
"There's always an open case. This one has been open since I was promoted." Eve dug a hand into the bag and brought out a handful of candy bars.
"Ah, the elusive candy thief. Why are you restocking now?"
"Other than the obvious reason, being that I'm out, I'm living up to my New Year's Resolution."
"You make New Year's Resolutions?" Roarke found the image of Eve making out a list of promises to keep each year very amusing. "Is it like that list you came up with when Summerset went on vacation?"
"In your dreams, Ace." Eve nudged the chair aside enough to where she could open one of her desk drawers. She pulled out her spare field kit and a roll of duct tape. "There's just one resolution on my list - to catch the #1 most wanted person on my hit list."
Some years earlier, while visiting Japan, Roarke had viewed one of the country's most popular and enduring animated series - Lupin III. He'd been a fan of the original ArsenÃ© Lupin stories from France, finding the fact that the Gentleman Thief had always managed to elude whatever law enforcement officers were chasing after him highly coincidental to his own past. He was not big on cartoons, but did enjoy the Japanese take on these stories with Lupin III.
Whoever the candy thief was had to be Lupin, he decided. Eve naturally fit the role of Inspector Zenigata, the police detective who always tried to catch him, but fail.
Eve spread the candy bars out on her desk and counted them. Ten bars. She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the room, trying to think of a new place to hide her candy.
"I could try reusing some old places, but whoever the culprit is knows me too well to fall for that," she said aloud, more for her own benefit than Roarke's. Eve's eyes swept over the office, taking in every stick of furniture, every piece of low-end electronics that they alloted for her. Part of her wished she still had a mountain of paperwork to wade through, but Peabody had dealt with every single bit of it during her time as Eve's aide. The paperwork, at least, would had provided a decent hiding place.
"Have you tried a ceiling tile?" Roarke asked.
"Taped to the outside of the window perhaps?" He suggested with a grin. His eyes hardened when she only grunted in response. "You stuck candy outside? Eve, it's a 20-story drop!"
She ignored him. "I shared some of the candy with Peabody. It'll be a good test as to whether or not she's the little bastard." Eve grabbed two candy bars and forced the window open.
Roarke was out of the chair and had pulled her back before she could stick the upper part of her body outside. "I think not," he informed her in a clipped voice. "I don't want you tumbling to your death because you craved a candy fix."
"Men have died for stupider reasons," Eve replied and shook off his grip. "Fine, fine. I won't put my candy outside." Until I can get you out of the room, at least.
"Eve," Roarke said in the slow, drawn-out way that let her know he knew exactly what she was thinking. She glared at him and marched back over to her desk, taking the chair before Roarke could.
Eve stared at the standard-issue large wall clock across the room, then jumped out of her seat. She pulled the clock far enough from the wall to where she could shove a candy bar behind the face. She took a step back. "Can you see it?"
"What? The outline of a candy bar behind the 6 and 7?"
Eve grumbled and took the candy bar out. Roarke moved her to her, laid his hands on her shoulders and started to knead the tension out. "Darling, you can save this for when we get back. The time away should give you plenty of chances to find new hiding spots."
"No, it'll give you plenty of chances to get your hands all over me, and then I won't be able to think at all. Then when we get back, I'll discover that the candy thief has struck again and I'll simply have to kill you for distracting me. Since I'm rather fond of you, Ace, I don't think either of us want that." Eve slapped Roarke's hands away as they slipped down to cover her breasts. "No touching."
Roarke leaned forward, caught one of Eve's earlobes in his teeth. "You're not on duty, Lieutenant. Tell me, have you ever fantasized about making love in your office?"
The resulting vision in Eve's head had her knees growing weak and she knew it would take a supreme act of will in order to be able to look at her desk and not think in that direction. She pulled completely away from Roarke. "Hands off. I mean it! We're not having sex in my office."
The back of her knees touched the edge of her desk and something rattled slightly beneath them. Eve glanced down, then felt at the desk. As her hands slipped over the plastic molding that trimmed the metal top, it jiggled slightly. Grinning wildly, Eve yanked open a desk drawer and located a flat-head screwdriver. She knelt, eased the tool's head between the molding and the desk and yanked. It widened to the point where she could insert a candy bar. It slipped into the hollow space and rested as if it had been meant to be kept there.
She got nine candy bars in her desk using this method, the molding sliding back easily into place The tenth, she decided to tape at the top of the dingy blinds that covered her equally dingy window.
"There," Eve said, getting off the chair she had to use to tape the candy bar up. "They're going to have to jump for that one. I should leave the window open. Then, if I see a candy bar come flying out and landing on the concrete, I know that it's my thief."
"Well done, Lieutenant." Roarke caught Eve's hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "Perhaps you'll get to the bottom of this conspiracy yet."
"Count on it," Eve said, tapping a finger to his chest. "Now, what were you saying about sex, sand and lots of food?"
"Right this way, Lieutenant." Roarke reached for the door, his other hand tightening on Eve's. She'd have to fight to break the grip and risk embarrassing herself even more. She glowered at him, but didn't try to fight him. This time, at least.
They slipped by Baxter, who was still chattering away on his link, and down the hall toward the elevators. "Tell me something," Eve commented as they waited. "I left a good five to 10 minutes before you did. How did you get here before me?"
Roarke lightly kissed her lips, smiled at the scowl she rewarded him with. "Let's just say that I actually listened to the traffic report and avoided the little jam on Ninety-First. You'd do well to pay attention to those before you get stuck in them, Darling."
"Bite me," Eve muttered, annoyed that she hadn't thought to consider the traffic reports. It was Sunday, for pete's sake! Wasn't most people in church or stuffing half a ham down their throats or doing something else?
"Oh, believe me. I intend to do so." With a laugh, Roarke escorted Eve into the elevator.
Back in the bullpen, Baxter's gaze flicked to the closing elevator doors. He lowered his link, his call actually having ended a good 15 minutes earlier. He punched in a code. "Block video," he instructed. "Hi. It's me. Dallas has just reloaded the arsenal. Thought I'd let you know." Baxter ended the call, tossed his link on the desk, and grinned.