Page 136 of Obsession in Death

Ignoring her burning wrist, she got up, took the body armor out of her supply closet.

Yes, yes, she could make this work. She knew what to do.

She knew how to end it. It had to end to begin, just like one year ended so the new could dawn.

They’d end together, and begin.

Eve woke in the dark with Roarke’s arm wrapped snug around her. She couldn’t see the time, but her body told her it was morning. Early, probably brutally early, but morning.

She couldn’t have said the time she’d dropped into bed, either—or been dropped, as Roarke had just plucked her up when she’d been half asleep at her desk and carted her to bed.

A habit of his she... didn’t mind so much, really.

What she could say was the narrower search parameters had netted her just over two hundred potential suspects.

Too many, of course, but it was better than thousands.

She could carve that down, too, she decided, now that her brain wasn’t so fogged with fatigue.

Of course, that ran on the geography around her old building, and that was gut instinct, not solid evidence.

Take that one out, back to thousands.

Or go with it, narrow the area by a few blocks all around, and cut that number down.

So she’d do both, dump a chunk on Peabody. See who in her division could take the time to take another chunk. Hack away at it.

Pull Mira in, have her do the shrink thing on the most likelies, run a probability on same. And wear out some boot leather tracking those most likelies down for interviews.

Check in, again, with everyone on her target list. Had she left anyone off, as she had Jamie?

DeWinter? The forensic anthropologist wasn’t a friend, but they’d worked together—and fairly closely. Shit.

Dawson? The head sweeper was a go-to, but that was work, not personal. And if she expanded there, what about Harvo? Where did Dickhead fall into the mix?

Christ, did she need to send out a blanket bulletin to everyone she worked with, consulted with, socialized with at some point?

FYI, evidence indicates I’m currently toxic. Any contact with me may result in death. Take the appropriate precautions.

Knock it off, she ordered herself. Concentrate on the work, on the process.

She needs to kill. Who is the next logical target? Determine, protect, and utilize the determination to apprehend the suspect.

Utilize current data and evidence. We have a profile, a probable if incomplete description, skill sets, motivation, and pattern. Apply to current crop of potentials, and pin the bitch down.

“Your brain’s far too busy at this hour.”

Since they were nearly nose-to-nose, Eve stared at the shadow of Roarke’s face. “Is this a new habit?”

“What would that be?”

“Second time in about a week you’re not up buying a solar system before dawn. How can the worlds of business and finance continue to revolve if you’re lying around in bed?”

“I thought I’d find out, and rescheduled my five-fifteen ’link conference.”

“Who the hell holds conferences at five-fifteen in the morning?”

“Someone with interests in Prague.”