Abandoned in Death (In Death, #54)(25)

It smelled stale—not like the stairwell, but from disuse. A fine layer of dust thinly coated a small table by the door where a vase held flowers that had withered and died.

A dark green couch, one Eve assumed opened into a bed, faced a large wall screen. Two stands with drawers, one on either side of the couch, held lamps.

On a long, low cabinet under the screen sat photos, a decorative bowl, a small pink stuffed bear. She’d set up an eating area outside a galley kitchen—a café-style table, two chairs. A trio of candles sat in the center.

Art ran to posters of music artists, and Mavis rocked out of one of them. On closer inspection Eve saw Mavis had signed it.

Sing Out, Anna!

Mavis Freestone



“Aw, man.” Peabody blew out a breath. “Why does that make it harder?”

“Closer to home. Looks like she collected the posters and signatures. They’re all signed. She kept a tidy nest, everything has a place and purpose. Check the bathroom and kitchen. It’s already been done, but we look again.”

No house ’link, and she knew the lead investigator had already taken the single tablet found in the drawer beside the bed into his EDD. She found clothes, a kit for doing nails, a box of concert and vid stubs, a small collection of costume jewelry.

Cold weather clothes she found separated out, organized. Clothes Eve feared Anna Hobe would never put on again.

She went through the room, and it occurred to her the entire space was smaller than her home office.

But it had been hers, Eve thought. She’d made it friendly and comfortable.

“Monthly birth control,” Peabody announced. “Some drugstore brand skin and hair care, same with makeup. Nothing high-end. Really clean. Well, a little dusty now, but her towels are folded or hung up. She’s got candles on the sink. No illegals, no prescription meds.”

“Organized,” Eve said as Peabody moved into the kitchen. “She likes her space, knows how to make the most of it. Condoms in the bedside drawer. Box is nearly full.”

Nothing here, Eve thought. Nothing here to tell us where or how. Nothing here but a life on pause.

“No dishwasher, and no dishes in the sink or the rack. Everything’s put away. Some leftover Chinese in the friggie, some cheese, snack food, water, crap coffee, creamer, an open bottle of white wine. The AC’s busted, so she wasn’t using that.”

Nothing here, she thought again.

“Let’s talk to some of the neighbors, then hit some of the local takeout/delivery. Maybe we’ll jog something the primary didn’t shake out before.”

She checked the time. “After, I’ll take you to the house. You can let McNab know.”

“We’ll stick with Mavis.”

Eve looked back at the poster. “Yeah. He’s not going to want her, but yeah. Stick close.”

They hit on the way out as Peabody held open the door for a woman carrying a couple of market bags and a giant purse in the shape of a sunflower.

“Thanks.”

“Do you live here?” Eve asked.

The woman waggled her entry swipe. “Who’s asking?”

Eve held up her badge.

“Oh. Yeah, right there. What’s the problem?”

“Do you know Anna Hobe?”

“Yeah, some. Lives upstairs, works over at Mike’s Place. Is she in trouble? Listen, these are heavy.”

“Let me give you a hand.” Peabody took one of the bags.

“Okay, fine. What about Anna?” she said as she moved to her apartment door, juggled the remaining bag and purse to swipe, then unlock the dead bolt. “I know her to say hi to.”

“Miss Hobe’s been missing since the early hours of June first,” Eve told her.

“What?” The woman glanced back as she pushed the door open. Her amber-tinted sunshades slid down her nose. “What do you mean, missing?”

“As in no one’s seen her.” Eve stepped into the apartment—and colorful chaos.

A flowered tote bag sat on a small square table outside a small kitchen area. A carry-on bag sat open, its contents jumbled on a couch covered with red flowers over a sky-blue background. A cloth bag in front of the open bathroom door exploded with laundry.

“You’ve been away,” Eve concluded.

“Yeah—so sorry about the mess. Got in really late last night—our flight was delayed—and I had to go back to work this morning, so I haven’t had time to unpack or, well, anything.”

She set her market bag on the short kitchen counter, did the same with the one she took from Peabody.

“When did you leave, Ms.…”

“Rameriz. Joslyn Rameriz. I left on the first. A group of us friends rented a villa right on the beach in Costa Rica. It was just freaking mag.” She began to unload staples—a quart of nondairy creamer, fake egg mix, a couple of bananas.

“I take it no one from the NYPSD has interviewed you previously regarding Ms. Hobe.”

“No, first I’ve heard. Missing.” Rameriz paused to pull out the tie holding her sun-streaked brown hair back, then scrubbed her hands through it. “She doesn’t seem like the type to go missing, but I guess I don’t know what that type is, exactly. I know Anna to say hi, like I said, and some of my gang would go into Mike’s every couple-three weeks. It’s a fun place. Maybe she just took off.”