The drawer was fitted with compartments, and each was jammed with various erotic enhancers suitable for partnership or solo bouts.

"Lieutenant, I really think you should take these in for further examination."

"No touching." She slapped Roarke's hand away as he reached in.

"Spoilsport."

"Civilian. What the hell does this do?" She held up a long, cone-shaped piece of rubber. It made cheerful tinkling noises when she shook it.

Roarke tucked his tongue in his cheek and sat on the bed. "Well, in the interest of your investigation, I'd be happy to demonstrate." Smiling, he patted the bed beside him.

"No, I mean it."

"So do I."

"Never mind." But she was still pondering when she put the cone back and opened the bottom drawer. "Ah, here's a little gold mine. Looks like a month's supply of Exotica, a bit of Zeus, and…" She opened a small vial, sniffed cautiously, then shook her head like a dog coming out of a pool of water. "Shit. Wild Rabbit."

She fumbled the stopper back in, grabbed for an evidence bag, and sealed the vial.

"Pure, too." She blew out a breath. "If he's using that on his dates, no wonder they all think he's a sex god. One or two drops of Rabbit, and you'd screw a doorknob. Did you know he was into this?"

"No." All humor fled, Roarke rose. "I don't have particularly strong feelings about most of the illegals. But this one is the same as rape, as far as I'm concerned. Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah." A little dizzy, she thought, and annoyingly horny. And that was only from a quick whiff of the fumes. "Stuff this pure goes for ten thousand an ounce, minimum, and it isn't easy to come by. It only works on the female system," she murmured. "Only takes a drop too many to overdose."

Roarke cupped a hand under her chin, lifted it to examine her eyes. Clear enough, he decided. "There was never any talk about him using anything like this. If there had been, and I'd discovered it was true, I'd have broken his contract. And very likely, his arms."

"Okay." She lifted a hand to his wrist, squeezed. "That's enough in here for now. I'm going to need you to keep this room vacant another day or two. I want an Illegals unit to run through it."

"All right."

She slipped the vial into her kit, and hoped to lighten his mood. "So, how much is it costing you?"

"Excuse me?"

"To keep this place vacant? How much does it run a night?"

"Oh this little place? I believe it's in the neighborhood of eighty-five hundred a night, though I imagine we have weekly and monthly rates as well."

"Chump change. Mansfield has a unit in here, too, right?"

"Penthouse B, the other tower."

"Let's pay her a visit. She and Draco had an illegals history in common," Eve began as she gathered her field kit and started out. "She may know his sources. It could all come down to a bad drug deal."

"I don't think so."

"Okay, I don't think so either, but the majority of cop work is eliminating." She locked the door, started to reach for a police seal in her kit.

"Must you do that?" He eyed the seal with dislike. "It's very off-putting to the other guests."

"Yes, I must. Besides, it'll give them a secret thrill. Oooh, look, George, that's where the dead actor lived. Get the vid cam."

"Your attitude toward society at large is sadly cynical."

"And accurate." She stepped into the elevator ahead of him, waiting for the doors to close. Then pounced. "Just give me a quick – God – " Desperate for release, she rubbed herself against him, bit his lip, moaning as her hands squeezed hard on his butt.

"Whew." On a long breath, she pushed him away, circled her shoulders. "That's better."

"For you maybe." He made a grab for her, but she slapped a hand on his chest.

"No games in public elevators. Don't you know that's a violation of city code? Tower A, penthouse level," she ordered, and the car slid seamlessly into motion.

"You'll definitely have to pay for that."

She leaned back against the wall as the elevator started its horizontal ride. "Please, you're scaring me."

He only smiled and slipped his hands into his pocket. Toyed idly with the rubber cone he'd palmed out of the drawer. "Be afraid," he murmured, and made her laugh as the car came to a stop.

"I had to clear my head before talking to a witness, didn't I?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Listen, you know Mansfield fairly well. I'd like your observations when this is done."

"Ah, there I am. Useful again."

She stopped, turned, and laid a hand on his cheek. Love for him reared up and bit her at the oddest times. "You do come in handy." When he turned his head and brushed his lips over her palm, she felt the thrill of it right down to her toes. "No mushy stuff," she ordered and strode to Areena's door.

She pressed the buzzer, waited.

Areena, dressed in a white lounging robe, opened the door. She looked flushed, obviously surprised, and not altogether pleased. "Lieutenant Dallas. Roarke. I… I wasn't expecting – " Then those limpid eyes went wide, went bright. "Is there news? Have you caught whoever – "

"No. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have a few questions."

"Oh. I thought, I hoped, it might all be over. Well." She lifted a hand, pressed pink-tipped fingers under her eye as if to soothe an ache. Indeed, there were faint bruises of fatigue under it. "I'm afraid this isn't really a good time. Is this absolutely necessary?"

"I'm sorry it's inconvenient, but it won't take long."

"Of course. This is awkward. You see, I'm not alone. I…" In surrender, Areena let her hand fall, stepped back. "Please, come in."

Eve stepped inside. The penthouse was very like its opposite in setup, in size. The furnishings were softer, more female somehow, and the colors a symphony of blues and creams.

And seated on one of the trio of sofas, looking sleek and gorgeous in black, was Charles Monroe.

Terrific, Eve thought, and immediately wanted to kick his expensive balls into his throat.

He grinned, a quick snap of pleasure, then seeing the chill in her eyes, the look shifted into lazy amusement as he got languorously to his feet. "Lieutenant. Always a delight to see you."

"Charles. Night work still keeping you busy?"

"Fortunately. Roarke, nice to see you again."

"Charles."

"Can I freshen your drink, Areena?"

"What?" Her eyes had whipped back and forth between faces, and her fingers twirled and twisted the silver links at her throat. "No. No, thank you. Ah, you know each other."

The flush that had pinked prettily on her face deepened. She lifted her hands again in that feminine gesture of helplessness.

"The lieutenant and I have met a number of times. We even have a mutual friend."

"Watch your step," Eve said, very quietly. Temper had already stormed into her eyes and was ready to snap. "Is this a social call, Charles, or are you on the clock?"

"You should know a man in my position doesn't discuss such matters."

"Please, this is embarrassing." Areena lifted her hand to toy restlessly with her necklace again and didn't notice Charles's mouth twist in a thin, cynical line, but Eve did. "Obviously, you're aware Charles is a professional. I didn't want to be alone, and I needed… some simple companionship. Charles – Mr. Monroe came highly recommended."

"Areena." Smooth as silk, Roarke stepped forward. "I'd love some coffee. Would you mind?"

"Oh, of course. Forgive me. I can…"

"Why don't I see to it." Charles brushed a hand over Areena's arm and started toward the kitchen.

"I'll just give him a hand." With a last look at Eve, Roarke strolled away.

"I know how this must look to you," Areena began. "It must seem very cold and very self-interested for me to have hired a sexual partner the night after…"

"It seems odd to me that a woman like you would have to hire anyone to be with her."