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been running out of options Iabout that kid hanging himself”

She began to pace restlessly “No predisposition there, either No obvious motive, no known enemies He just has himself a snack and makes a noose Then I heard about the senator That ical explanations Now, for people like Fitzhugh and the senator, with their kind of financial base, there’s counseling at the snap of a finger Or in cases of terminal illness—physical or emotional—voluntary self-termination facilities But they took themselves out in bloody and painful ways Doesn’t fit”

Roarke nodded “Go on”

“And the ME on Fitzhugh came up with this unexplained abnormality I wanted to see if, on the off chance, the kid had anything like it” She gestured to the screen “He does Now I need to knohat put it there”

Roarke shifted his eyes back to the screen “Genetic flaw?”

“Possibly, but the co like it before—through heredity, mutation, or outside causes” She moved behind the console, scrolled the screen “See there, in the projection of possible mental affects? Behavioral alterations Pattern unknown A lot of help that is”

She rubbed her eyes, thought it through “But that says to me that the subject could, and likely would, behave out of pattern Suicide would be out of pattern for these two men”

“True enough,” Roarke agreed Leaning back against the console, he crossed his legs at the ankles “But so would dancing naked in church or kicking elderly matrons off a skywalk Why did they both choose self-termination?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? But this gives ure out how to spin it to Whitney, to keep both cases open Download data to disc, print hard copy,” she ordered, then turned to Roarke “I’ve got a few minutes now”

His brow quirked, a habitual gesture she secretly adored “Do you?”

“Which laws did you have in mind to break?”

“Several, actually” He glanced at his watch as she stepped forward to unbutton his elegant linen shirt “We have a preht”

Her fingers stopped, her face fell “Tonight”

“But I think we have tih, he scooped her off her feet and laid her back on the console

Eve was tugging on a floor-length, siren-red sheath and co somaterial when her communicator beeped Naked to the waist, with the fli to her knees, she pounced