Abandoned in Death (In Death, #54)(91)

“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, Commander.”

“I assume you have reason to.”

“Yes, sir.” She waited while he made his way through the bar area of a restaurant where everyone looked elegant, and some guy in a tux opened the door to an outside area where other elegant people sat with sparkling drinks.

Whitney stepped away from them.

“And it is?”

“We’ve identified the suspect in the Elder and Hobe abductions and murders and the Covino abduction. I have a team ready to go, and APA Reo is securing the proper warrants. I’ll update my report to you with the additional evidence that led to the identification.”

He nodded. “Very good. I’ll pass this along to Chief Tibble. We’re having drinks, or will be. Is there a reason you need to inform me of this, at this moment?”

“Yes, sir.” Finally, Eve got out of the elevator and into the garage. “We have considerable and I believe conclusive evidence the target is Andrew Dawber.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dawber, sir. Forensic chemist in our lab. And one assigned to analyze evidence in this investigation.”

Whitney said, “Son of a bitch!”

Roarke waited until she’d finished, until they stood by the van parked behind her car.

He gave her shoulder a quick rub. “That went well enough.”

She rolled her shoulders, circled her head. “Okay, that’s done.”

She looked at Feeney with his baggy brown suit, his crooked tie with its latest stain, his hound-dog face and explosion of ginger hair.

And the bright neon light of Jamie beside him.

“Really?”

Feeney jerked a thumb at grinning Jamie. “He earned it.”

“He earned it,” Eve agreed. “Now I have four e-men and four other cops to take down one crazy, mommy-whacked scientist.”

“Where are the other two?” Feeney asked.

“Probably sitting on the apartment building by now. Jenkinson and Reineke. Everybody in, let’s move. They’re not going to be there,” she said as she boosted herself into the van. “It doesn’t play out. Unless…”

She shook her head as Feeney took the wheel, Jamie got in beside him, and the others settled into the back. McNab and Roarke at the equipment.

“No, hold on. Jamie, come back here and do the e-thing with McNab. Roarke, start running another search on properties. Same basics with the building, but plug in these names or derivatives. Lisa McKinney, Violet Blank, Violet Fletcher, John Church, Andrew Dawber. Could use place names, maybe. Bigsby, Arcadia, Tennessee, Alabama, Louisiana. Peabody, dig up the name of the church where she left him, and we’ll try that, too. He could use Andrew McKinney, or Lisa Church, any combo. Okay?”

“I’ve got it. Setting it up now.”

“I want to look for heat sources in this building. Focus on the basement if it has one, and in this sector it’s likely. Also focus on Dawber’s apartment. If we hit, we’ll need eyes and ears. We need to move him away from Covino—or any other woman he might have grabbed since. We secure the civilians, secure the suspect.”

“Short drive,” Feeney announced. “I’m putting us at max distance for the heat search. He’d recognize an e-van, or give it a hard eye if he spots us.

“You got it, Jamie. Run it.”

“Frosted!”

“Your detectives coming up on the cargo doors, kid.”

At Feeney’s alert, Eve got up, opened them. “Inside.”

“No movement we’ve seen in the apartment windows,” Jenkinson told her as he parked his butt on one of the bench seats. “We’ve been here maybe five minutes. Guess you’re sure it’s him.”

“Damn sure.”

He shook his head. “You think you know somebody.”

Since his tie—wildly colored gumdrops over blinding white—hurt her eyes, she focused on Jamie.

“Anything?”

“Got a basement, got one heat source northeast corner. Moving around and … walking—carrying something by the arm position—west, and up.”

“Laundry or storage area,” Reineke said. “Or both. Betcha.”

“Following the heat source, and it’s heading straight up. I’d say an elevator now. Exiting, third floor, moving north, turn, and into a space with three other sources. Two of them probably kids from the size.”

“No keeping women shackled up in an area with that kind of access. Move to his apartment.”

“Fifth floor,” Jenkinson told Jamie. “Front facing, on the right over the deli, second and third windows.”

“Changing scan. Nobody’s in there.”

“There’s the warrants. Peabody, with me. Jenkinson, you and Reineke take outside doors, in case. Feeney, if you spot him heading home, beep my comm twice.”

“Will do.”

She hopped out the back, then pointed at Jamie. “You, put on a recorder. Grab a can of Seal-It, and bring it along.”

His eyes popped. “I’m going in? Woo!”

“If you’re looking at this like an adventure, toss me the sealant and stay in the van.”

His Christmas-morning eyes went immediately sober. “Got it. Sir.”