Abandoned in Death (In Death, #54)(51)

“Did she help you out in the bar that night before you changed your mind?”

“Sure. I was busy. I run a popular place, so I didn’t get around to it for a while. I tried letting her down easy. Told her I wasn’t going to be able to make it, and she got pushy. Not my problem she took off work, not my problem she put down a deposit. I can see she was going to make a scene out of it, so I cut it off. We’re done, there’s the door.”

He shrugged again. “Women just can’t take the moment and move on. We had some fun, that’s it. It’s why I’ve got a firm policy none of them stay the night. Makes them get too cozy. And what do they do? Leave something—a scarf, a hair thing, lip dye, whatever, so they have an excuse to come back. Pathetic. Like I don’t get that?”

Idly, Eve wondered why so many ugly people had beautiful faces.

“What time did she leave?”

“How the hell do I know? I didn’t clock her out. About midnight,” he said when Eve stared. “Left her damn suitcase.”

“Did you try to contact her so she could come back for it?”

“Hell no—that’s what they want. I give it a week, then I toss it—whatever they leave.”

“Did you notice anyone in the bar when she helped you out? Male, White, in his sixties, probably alone?”

“Hell, we get plenty of those. It’s a popular place. If they’re not causing trouble, I don’t pay much attention to old men. Look, she’s just trying to get my attention. That’s what they do.”

“Do they? Well, in this case, she has ours. Where is Ms. Covino’s property?”

“Where she left it. Like I’m going to drag it up here, give her an excuse to come to the door.”

“Put some clothes on, open the bar. We’ll take it with us.”

“You expect me to get dressed—”

“Since I can’t arrest you for being a complete dick, I’d be thrilled to arrest you for indecent exposure. You’ve been flashing your actual dick since you sat down. While it’s not very impressive, I could make a case. Put some pants on. Ms. Covino’s suitcase is evidence.”

He went from slouch to poker straight. “You’ve got no business talking to me that way. I pay your fucking salary.”

“Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. File a complaint—but put your pants on first, and give me my evidence.”

He pushed up, stormed to a closet in the hallway off the bedroom, came back with the suitcase.

“Evidence, my ass.”

“Funny, this doesn’t look like the back room of your bar.”

“So I forgot I brought it up here to get it out of the way. When she comes slinking back after her snit, I’m going to demand an apology from all of you.”

“Good luck with that.” Eve pulled up the handle, rolled the suitcase to the door. “Thanks for your time, and for revealing yourself to be an asshole.”

She shut the door. “Let the roommate know we have the suitcase. It’s now evidence, and we’ll return it as soon as possible.”

“I’m so steamed.”

“Shake it off.” Eve shoved the handle down, hefted the bag up—it had weight!—to carry it down the stairs. “He’s nothing. I did admire your remark about not enough cage room to arrest complete dicks.”

“It just popped right out. The way he demeaned her, well, all of us, women in general.”

“It’ll catch up with him. Sooner or later he’ll pull that shit with the wrong woman. But for now, Mary Kate Covino’s a lot more important than he is.”

“He lied about bringing the suitcase up there just to give us grief. I mentally kicked him in the groin, several times.”

“Good target, since that’s where he lives. I feel there’s another way. Like doing a search on former female employees who have either quit or been fired. Wouldn’t it be fun if we found some who had a story about leaving his employ due to his sexual treatment of them?”

Peabody said nothing for nearly thirty seconds. “Dallas, Lieutenant, sir, you are my hero. I am mentally kissing you on the mouth.”

“Keep it in your head or my boot meets your ass.”

“It might be worth it, but my admiration at this moment is too deep to cause your wrath. Can I do it, please, please? I can ask McNab to help. Off duty. Our own time.”

“It’s all yours. What do you suppose she packed in here?” Eve wondered when they reached the street. “It weighs a freaking ton.”

“Oh shit, and I didn’t even offer to carry it.”

“So noted.” She pulled up the handle, pushed the case at Peabody. “Take it to the car, seal it, log it. Contact Covino’s boss, tell them we’re coming in. I’ll stop by the market and talk to Zel if he’s there.”

He was, and as upset and cooperative as his grandmother. But he couldn’t add anything. Still, Eve left a card and a request to contact her if they remembered anything or anyone.

They hit the marketing firm next.

Eve found a high-energy atmosphere in the converted warehouse. Lots of open space with splashes and slashes of color in contrast, likely deliberate, with the industrial framework. She might have equated the sound and movement to EDD, except the denizens weren’t dressed like circus performers.