Seduction in Death Read Free Page B

time in front of this mirror, Eve mused. If the little black dress, the wine, the candlelight were anything to go by, she'd spent considerable time in front of it tonight. Preparing herself for a man.
    Moving to the bedroom 'link, Eve played back the last call and stood, listening to Bryna Bankhead, pretty in her little black dress, talk of her big plans for the evening with a brunette she called CeeCee.
    I'm a little nervous, but mostly I'm just excited. We're finally going to meet. How do I look?
    You look fabulous, Bry. You just remember real-life dating's different from cyber-dating. Take it slow, and keep it public tonight, right?
    Absolutely. But I really do feel like I know him, CeeCee. We've got so much in common, and we've been e-mailing for weeks. Besides, it was my idea to meet -- and his to make it drinks in a public place so I'd feel more at ease. He's so considerate, so romantic. God, I'm going to be late. I hate being late. Gotta go.
    Don't forget. I want all the deets.
    I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Wish me luck, CeeCee. I really think he could be the one.
    "Yeah," Eve murmured as she shut off the 'link. "So do I."

CHAPTER TWO
    In her office at Cop Central, Eve reviewed the security discs of the apartment building on the day of the murder. People came, people went. Residents, visitors. She pegged slinky twin blondes who strolled across the lobby in tandem as licensed companions. Double your pleasure, she thought as she watched one setting up the next job on her pocket-link while the other noted down the split in her daybook.
    Bryna Bankhead rushed in at six-forty-five, a couple of shopping bags in tow and a pretty flush on her cheeks.
    Happy, Eve thought. Excited. She wants to get upstairs, take out her new stuff and play with it. Groom herself, primp, change her mind about her outfit a few times. Maybe fix a quick bite to eat so her stomach won't be too nervous.
    Just a typical single woman anticipating a date. Who doesn't know she'll be a statistic before it's over.
    She watched Louise come in just before seven-thirty. She moved quickly, too, but then she always did. There was no light of adventure or anticipation on her face, Eve mused. She looked distracted, a little tired.
    No shopping bags for Dr. Dimatto, Eve noted. Just her medical kit and a handbag as big as Idaho.
    A not-so-typical single woman, Eve thought, who looks as if she's already decided she isn't going to enjoy the evening ahead of her.
    And who doesn't know she'll end it with a body broken at her feet.
    Louise was quicker than Bryna. She was striding out of the elevator, slicked into her killer red dress, at eight-forty. Polished, she didn't look like the dedicated, overworked and steely minded crusader.
    She looked sharp, sexy, female.
    The guy coming in as she was going out obviously agreed. He took a good long look at her ass as Louise zipped out. She either didn't notice or didn't give a damn as she didn't so much as glance back at him.
    A kid of about eighteen swaggered out of the elevator. He was dressed in solid black leather, tip to toe, and carted an air scooter under his arm. He swung it down as he shoved open the doors, leaped on with an agility and flash Eve had to admire, and winged off into the night.
    She sipped coffee as she watched Bryna exit the building just before nine p.m. Nearly running, Eve thought, risking a turned ankle in her date shoes because she didn't want to be late. Her hair was styled in a glossy updo, like an ebony tower. Her face, a delicate caramel color, was flushed with anticipation and nerves. She carried a small evening bag and wore the pretty, flashing earrings.
    "Check cab pick ups within a block radius of the building, Peabody. She's in a hurry, so unless she's meeting the guy close by, she'd spring for a cab." She frowned as she zipped through time, slowing whenever someone came in or out of the building.
    "She was a good-looking woman," Eve commented. "Seemed reasonably smart, had her own