The In Death Collection 06-10 Read Online Free PDF

Lord’s work and the Big Guy wants to play with riddles.” She ran the transmission through for him, watching his eyes narrow, sharpen. Roarke was quick, she reflected as she saw his mouth go grim.
    “You checked the Luxury Towers.”
    “That’s right, penthouse floor. He’d left part of the victim in the living area. The rest of him was in the bedroom.”
    She pushed her plate aside and rose, raking a hand through her hair as she paced. “It was as bad as I’ve ever seen, Roarke, vicious. Because it was calculated to be ugly, not because it was uncontrolled. Most of the work was precise, like surgery. Prelim from the ME indicates the victim was kept alive and aware during most of the mutilation. He’d been pumped up with illegals—enough to keep him conscious without taking the edge off the pain. And believe me, the pain must have been unspeakable. He’d been disemboweled.”
    “Christ Jesus.” Roarke blew out a breath. “An ancient punishment for political or religious crimes. A slow and hideous death.”
    “And a goddamn messy one,” she put in. “His feet had been severed—one hand gone at the wrist. He was still alive when his right eye was cut out. That was the only piece of him we didn’t recover at the scene.”
    “Lovely.” Though he considered his stomach a strong one, Roarke lost his taste for breakfast. Rising, he went to the closet. “An eye for an eye.”
    “That’s a revenge thing, right? From some play.”
    “The Bible, darling. The lord of all plays.” He chose casual pleated trousers from the revolving rack.
    “Back to God again. Okay, the game’s revenge. Maybe it’s religious, maybe it’s just personal. We may zero in on motive when we finish running the victim. I’ve got a media blackout at least until I contact his family.”
    Roarke hitched up the trousers, reached for a simple white linen shirt. “Children?”
    “Yeah, three.”
    “You have a miserable job, Lieutenant.”
    “That’s why I love it.” But she rubbed her hands over her face. “His wife and kids are in Ireland, we think. I need to track them down today.”
    “In Ireland?”
    “Hmm. Yeah, seems the victim was one of your former countrymen. I don’t suppose you knew a Thomas X. Brennen, did you?” Her half smile faded when she saw Roarke’s eyes go dark and flat. “You did know him. I never figured it.”
    “Early forties?” Roarke asked without inflection. “About five-ten, sandy hair?”
    “Sounds like. He was into communications and entertainment.”
    “Tommy Brennen.” With the shirt still in his hand, Roarke sat on the arm of a chair. “Son of a bitch.”
    “I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me that he was a friend.”
    “He wasn’t.” Roarke shook his head to clear away the memories. “At least not in more than a decade. I knew him in Dublin. He was running computer scams while I was grifting. We crossed paths a few times, did a little business, drank a few pints. About twelve years ago, Tommy hooked up with a young woman of good family. Lace curtain Irish. He fell hard and decided to go straight. All the way straight,” Roarke added with a crooked grin. “And he severed ties with the less . . . desirable elements of his youth.I knew he had a base here in New York, but we stayed out of each other’s way. I believe his wife knows nothing of his past endeavors.”
    Eve sat on the arm opposite him. “It might have been one of the past endeavors, and one of those less desirable elements, that’s responsible for what happened to him. Roarke, I’m going to be digging, and when I dig how much of you am I going to uncover?”
    It was a worry, he supposed. A mild one to him. But, he knew, it would never be mild to her. “I cover my tracks, Lieutenant. And, as I said, we weren’t mates. I haven’t had any contact with him at all in years. But I remember him. He had a fine tenor voice,” Roarke murmured. “A good laugh, a good mind, and a longing for family. He was fast with his