Page 73 of Devoted in Death

“I’ll be right here.” Banner turned back to the board. “Right here.”

Roarke made his way to the bedroom. He wanted out of the bloody suit, and wanted a bloody explanation as to why he’d found a cop from Arkansas in his house—and apparently sleeping in one of the guest rooms.

Eve was still on the ’link when he walked in, and held up a finger to hold him off.

She might have poured gas on a fire.

“I’ll get you what we get as we get it, and you do the same. Everything, Santiago, as it comes. Time’s clicking down.”

“Yes, sir.”

She ended the transmission, circled her neck. “I’ve spent more time on the damn ’link today than...” The frigid blast from his eyes got through. “What?”

“I’ve just come across a Deputy Banner, apparently from Arkansas, apparently involved in your investigation, and apparently staying in our home.”

“Yeah, Banner, I told you. Is he already in the office?”

“He is, and you bloody well didn’t tell me a bloody thing about it.”

“I did. I texted you before...” Coffee, she remembered, text Roarke—and she’d been interrupted.

“I was about to,” she corrected. “I got interrupted.” She scowled at the ’link still in her hand, shoved it in her pocket. “I’ve had a million interruptions today. I meant to text you, I started to.”

“A man I’ve never seen before—armed, by the way—is wandering freely around the house.”

“He’s a cop.”

“And what possible difference does that make?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s going to steal the silver, or whatever. I ran him. The commander talked to his chief. He’s solid.”

“Again, what possible difference does that make?”

She threw out her hands, baffled. “All.”

He yanked off his tie. “Bollocks, Eve. I believe I have a right to be consulted, or at the very least informed, before we’re housing a complete stranger.”

“I was going to! You have people in here when you want them.”

His eyes, hot now, fixed on hers as he shrugged out of his suit coat. “And who have I had wandering free—a stranger to you with a stunner on his belt—without your knowledge?”

“Okay, okay, you want to be pissed, be pissed. I got interrupted, and I forgot. I’ve been a little preoccupied with murder.”

“I won’t have murder as your excuse for every shagging thing, as preoccupation with it is a matter of course. And one I’ve accepted fully.”

She started to snap back, then imagined it from his side. She didn’t want to imagine it from his side, but it came over her too clearly. Guilty now, and defensive, she paced away.

“Two kids and their mother got smashed to pulp with a sledgehammer—by the father.”

“Ah, Christ Jesus, what a world you live in.” Roarke scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Baxter and Trueheart caught it, and Baxter came into my office, shaken up, when I was about to text you on Banner. He doesn’t get shaken up easy. I’m his LT, Roarke, I had to put things aside and listen to him.”

“You did, of course.”

“Then things just kept rolling, and I forgot. So I’m sorry. Be pissed.”

“I am.” He changed his shirt for a sweater, cooling off as he did. “You’re fond of your Marriage Rules, so add this to them. If and when you’ve the inclination to host a complete stranger to me, you don’t forget to let me know. As the next time, I might stun first, ask questions later. I’m firm on that one.”