Free In Death 17 - Imitation in Death by authors_sort Page B

own competence, and when you question yours, you're questioning mine."
     
     
She glanced over,, unsurprised to see Peabody keying her comments into her notebook between bites of doughnut. "You're writing this down."
     
     
"It helps to see it, you know. Then to do these affirmations in the mirror. I'm a confident, competent officer of the law, and like that." She flushed a little. "It's just a method."
     
     
"Whatever."
     
     
Eve nosed into a narrow space at the ,curb. "Let's confidently and competently see where Carmichael Smith was night before last."
     
     
"Yes, sir, but I also have to stress and obsess about having eaten that jelly doughnut. That'll work off the calories and even it out. It'll be like I never ate it at all."
     
     
`Then you might want to wipe the jelly off your lip."
     
     
Eve stepped out of the car, studied the building. It had been, she supposed, a small three-level apartment building at one time.
     
     
Now it was a single residence on a tony street. Private security again, two entrances in the front.
     
     
At least one in the back, she assumed.
     
     
Not so far from an alley in Chinatown geographically, but worlds away in every other form. No LCs on the stroll here, no glide-carts on the corners. High maintenance and low crime.
     
     
She circled around the walk and up to the main entrance on the second level
     
     
Security panel, palm plate, and a retinal scan. A very careful man. She engaged the panel and frowned at the music that soared out. A lot' of strings and keyboard around, a creamy male voice.
     
     
"'Love Lights the World,"' Peabody identified. "It's sort of his signature song."
     
     
"It's got more calories than your doughnut." WELCOME, the computer said in polite, female tones. WE HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A WONDERFUL DAY. PLEASE STATE YOUR NAME AND YOUR BUSINESS.
     
     
"Dallas, Lieutenant Eve." She lifted her badge. for a scan.
     
     
"Police business. I've got an appointment with Mr. Smith this morning."
     
     
ONE MOMENT, PLEASE... THANK YOU, LIEUTENANT. MR. SMITH IS EXPECTING YOU. YOU'RE CLEARED.
     
     
Almost immediately the door was opened by a dark-skinned woman in snowy white. There was more music here, quietly dripping its sweetness in the air.
     
     
"Good morning. Thank you for being prompt. Please come in, make yourself at home in the living area. Carmichael will be right with you."
     
     
She glided, Eve thought, like a woman on rollers instead of feet, as she ushered them into a large room with blond walls. There was a mood screen taking up one of those walls, with an image of a white boat drifting on a blue sea as calm as a plate of glass.
     
     
Thick gel cushions were spread over the floor in lieu of actual. furniture, and all were in pastels.
     
     
Tables were long and low, in that same blond tone.
     
     
A fuzzy white kitten curled on one of the tables, and blinked emerald eyes at Eve.
     
     
"Please relax. I'll let Carmichael know you're here."
     
     
Peabody walked over and poked at one of the floor cushions. "I guess you sink right in and it molds to your butt."
     
     
Experimentally, she reached back and patted a hand over her ass. "That could be embarrassing."
     
     
"That music is making my teeth ache." Eve ran her tongue around them, then turned as Carmichael Smith made his entrance.
     
     
He was tall, about six three with a well-toned body he was currently showing off in a fluid white vest that left his pees and abs on display., His pants were black and snug, so he could display his other attributes. His hair was dramatically streaked black and white, and worn back in a queue to leave his face-wide, high-boned, and narrowed to a sharp, pointed chin-unframed. His eyes were deep, melted chocolate brown, his skin the color of coffee, light.
     
     
"Ah, Lieutenant Dallas. Or do I call you Mrs. Roarke?" Eve heard Peabody's smothered snort, ignored it. "You call me Lieutenant Dallas."
     
     
"Of course, of course." He strode in,