"Robb, J D - In Death 21 - Divided in Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

on her handheld, and her heart began to race as she counted off the time.
Three seconds before the alarm was set to trip, the first code scanned onto
her jammer. She let out the breath she'd held, glanced up at the dark windows.
"Just keep doing what you're doing up there, you pair of slime," she
muttered as she set the second jammer. "I only need a few more minutes here.
Then we'll really party."
She heard the whiz of a car on the street behind her, and cursed softly as
it braked. A quick look back and she spotted a cab at the curb, and the laughing
couple in evening clothes who climbed out. Reva edged closer to the door, deeper
in the shadows. With a minidrill she removed the side of the palm plate, noting
that Felicity's house droid kept even the screws spotless.
Interfacing her PPC with a hair-thin wire, she keyed in a bypass code,
waited the sweaty seconds for it to clear. Meticulously, she replaced the panel,
then used the second jammer on the voice box.
It took longer to clone, a full two minutes, but she felt a frisson of
excitement work through her fury when the last voice entry played back.
August Rembrandt.
Reva's lips twisted in a sneer as her false friend's voice murmured the
password. Reva had only to key in the cloned security numbers, then use her
tools to lift the last, manual lock.
She slipped inside, closed the door, and out of habit reset the security.
Prepared for the house droid to appear, to request her business, she held
her stunner at the ready. He'd recognize her, of course, and that would give her
just enough time to fry his circuits and clear her way.
But the house stayed silent, and no droid stepped into the foyer. So, they'd
shut him down for the night, she thought grimly. So they could have a little
more privacy.
She could smell the roses Felicity always kept on the table in the foyerЧ
pink roses, replaced weekly. There was a low light burning beside the vase, but
Reva didn't need it. She knew her way, and walked directly to the stairs to
climb to the second floor. To the bedroom.
When she reached the landing she saw all she needed to bring her rage back
in full force. Tossed carelessly over the rail was Blair's light leather jacket.
It was the one she'd given him for his birthday the previous spring. The one
he'd hooked carelessly with his fingers over his shoulder just that morning when
he'd kissed his loving wife good-bye, and told her how much he'd miss her, told
her as he'd nuzzled her neck how much he hated having to take even this quick
out-of-town trip.
Reva lifted the jacket, brought it to her face. She could smell him on it,
and the scent of him nearly tore her grief through her anger.
To stave it off, she took one of her tools out of her bag and quietly shred
the leather to ribbons. Then, tossing it on the floor, she ground her heel into
it before stepping away.
Face hot with temper, she set her bag down, took the stunner back out of her
pocket. As she approached the bedroom she saw the flicker of light. Candles, she
could even smell them now, some spicy female perfume. And she could hear the low
notes of musicЧsomething classic, like the roses, like the scent of the candles.
It was all so Felicity, she thought furiously. All so female and fragile and
perfect. She'd have preferred something modern, something today and gutsy for
this altercation.