Abandoned in Death (In Death, #54)(43)

“Yes, it is,” Dawber confirmed. “I suspect when I’m finished with the eye enhancements, the lipstick—I can tell you it wasn’t a lip dye—we’ll find the same. Widely available, well-established products, affordable. But established and popular,” he continued, “because they’re inexpensive and dependable.”

Eve got the picture. The killer could have bought them damn near anywhere. Nothing special, nothing unique about them.

“When we find him, we’ll find the products. You can establish the samples you have came from the products we’ll find?”

“Absolutely. I still have highlighter, setting powder, the eyebrow color, eye shadows—four different shades, and those blended—eyeliner, mascara, lip liner, lipstick, the nail color.”

He offered that vague smile again. “I’m afraid midday might be overly optimistic, but I’ll do my very best.”

“I’ll take what you get as you get it, and appreciate the effort.”

“It’s what we do here.”

She didn’t expect any revelations on the shoes, and found the same pattern when she hit the newlywed in charge. Off-brand, size seven and a half, manufactured in Cleveland and sold in discount shoe stores all over the country.

Between 2002 and 2004.

Rather than driving straight into Central, Eve pointed across the street. “Drugstore. I want a look at the setup.”

“Chain stores like this usually have a big selection of makeup and hair products,” Peabody said as they started to the crosswalk. “Trina gives me, like, a family discount on hair products, and I usually hit one of the beauty product centers for skin care and makeup, but I still browse through, usually pick up something because, well, you never know.”

“Never know what?”

They joined the throng at the light, where the business types looked bored or annoyed and the early tourists looked goggle-eyed.

“If you’ll find the perfect lip dye, or the eye shadow palette of your dreams.”

“Yeah, I’m always on the hunt for those.” She shot Peabody a warning look as they crossed the street. “We’re not buying anything.”

“If I find the perfect lip dye, I can note down the name and get it later. Though that would mean several hours, maybe a day or more of my lips denied perfection.”

“Cops don’t need perfect lips.”

“It’s possible—not outside the realm of possibility—that my perfect lips could so dazzle a bad guy I’d have him cuffed, charged, and transported before he recovered.”

“When that happens, I’ll personally buy you a lifetime supply.”

“I’m getting that on record,” Peabody said as they pushed through the doors. “Over this way.” She gestured and took the lead past aisle after aisle of what Eve thought had nothing to do with drugs. Unless you considered candy a drug.

Which, maybe.

Or diapers and baby stuff, or cleaning and laundry products.

The far side of the store held a massive section on the drugs purported to make you look, smell, and feel better. The promise filled shelves, spin racks, and endcaps.

“There’s a whole section for feet.”

“When your feet look and feel good,” Peabody proclaimed, “you look and feel good.”

“Is that what’s up with the invisible shoes? Do they have a deal with the foot product people?”

“That’s a definite fad. All it takes is one stub of the toe, one blister, to ruin the look.”

In her element, Peabody selected a lip dye, scanned the packaging, and studied the result on-screen. She smiled, pursed her lips, shook her head.

“This is not the perfect lip dye.” Setting it aside, she picked a powder blush off a spin rack, repeated the process. “This is a pretty good color, but not perfecto.”

“Stop it.”

Eve scanned the products, noted the names of the brands Dawber had given her. She saw a woman at another testing station. She had a cart loaded with diapers and baby paraphernalia, and said baby in a halter strapped to her chest.

She looked at Peabody with exhausted eyes. “Does this do anything for me? Like make me look human? I’m ready to settle for looking human. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in six weeks.”

Peabody shifted stations, studied the screen. “It’s a pretty color, a happy color. And you know what else?” She found an eye shadow, scanned it, held it up so it transferred to the woman’s eyelids. “I use something like this when I’ve had a stretch of long nights. It just brightens you up, right?”

“It really does.”

“You should treat yourself. Look what you did. This adorable baby.” Leaning over, Peabody cooed.

“I love him so much I could burst. It’s just … my husband and I are going to try to go out to dinner—if we can stay awake long enough. My mother’s going to watch Jonah.”

“Jonah.” Peabody cooed again, and the woman grabbed her arm.

“I used to know how to do this, but I have baby brain. Help me? It’s been so long since I fixed myself up. I want some new products, and my brain’s so tired I don’t know where to start.”

“Oh, well…” Peabody sent Eve a look. Eve just waved a hand and wandered the aisle.