They'd met more than once, but Baxter simply nodded and took out his badge. Couldn't blame the guy for being tight-assed under the circumstances, Baxter decided. "I need to interview Dallas regarding the Bowers homicide."
"I believe you were informed yesterday that my wife is unavailable at this time."
"Yeah, I got the message. Look, it's got to get done. I've got a job to do here."
"Yes, you have a job." Not bothering to disguise the threat in his eyes, Roarke got to his feet. Every movement precise, like a wolf stalking prey. "Eve doesn't, because your department is quick to turn on their own. How the hell can you stand here with that badge in your hand? You come into her home prepared to interrogate her? You son of a bitch, I ought to make you eat that fucking badge and send you back to Whitney on a pike."
"You've got a right to be upset," Baxter said evenly, "but I've got an investigation going, and she's part of it."
"Do I seem upset, Baxter?" His eyes glinted like a sword turned edge-up in the sun as he came around the desk. "Why don't I show you, right now, what I am?" Fast as a lightning strike, Roarke's fist shot out.
Eve walked in just as Baxter went flying. She had to leap forward to get to Baxter and block his body with hers before Roarke could follow up. "Jesus, Roarke. Are you crazy? Back off, back off. Baxter?" She tapped his cheeks, waited for his eyes to roll back into their proper position. "You okay?"
"I feel like I got hit with a hammer."
"You must've slipped." She cast aside pride and put the plea in her eyes. "Let me help you up."
He shifted his gaze to Roarke, then looked back at her. "Yeah, I must've slipped. Shit." He wiggled his aching jaw and let Eve pull him up. "Dallas, I guess you know why I'm here."
"I think I can figure it out. Let's get it over with."
"You don't speak to him without your lawyers," Roarke said. "We'll contact them and get back to you, Detective, as to when it's convenient for my wife to speak with you."
"Baxter." As she spoke, she kept her eyes on Roarke. "Give us a minute here, will you?"
"Sure, yeah, no problem. I'll just, ah, wait out there."
"Thanks." She waited until the door shut. "He's just doing his job."
"Then he can do it properly, when you're suitably represented."
With a frown, she moved closer, took his hand. "Your knuckles are going to swell. Baxter's got a head like a rock."
"It was worth it. It would have been even better if you hadn't interfered."
"Then I'd be laying bail for you." Intrigued, she cocked her head. She'd seen him furious often enough to recognize it simmering in his eyes. "Less than an hour ago, you were telling me to stop whining, and now I walk in and watch you deck the primary on the investigation that's put me here. Just where the hell do you stand, Roarke?"
"With you, Eve. Always."
"Why did you kick at me like that?"
"To piss you off." He smiled a little, cupped her chin. "It worked. You're going to need some ice on your knuckles as well."
She linked her aching fingers with his. "I killed your droid."
"Yes, I know."
"I pretended it was you."
"Yes," he said again. "I know." He took her hand, curled it into a fist and brought it to his lips. "Want to hit the real thing now?"
"Maybe." She stepped to him, into him, wrapped her arms tight around him. "Thanks."
"For?"
"For knowing me well enough to understand what I needed." She closed her eyes, pressed her face to his neck. "I think I understand you well enough to know it wasn't easy for you to do."
His arms came hard around her. "I can't stand to see you hurt this way."