Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(89)

“That explains the dead flowers and the dust.”

“I did a quick search,” he continued as she took the can of Seal-It from the kit, used it. “Every morning prior to that last meal? An omelet or a soft-boiled egg, with fruit and whole wheat toast. Seven A.M., again almost precisely. At, again, precisely two in the afternoon, a salad. She used the dishwasher at seven-thirty-eight on that same evening. Besides the dishes you’d expect from the breakfast and so on, a wineglass. There’s a nice bottle of pinot grigio—open—in the wine fridge, and a very good selection of wine on a rack.”

“Tormenting kids pays well,” Eve concluded. “They either relocated her after the escape, or killed her. I’m betting on number two. They not only got past her, but her swipe card got them out. Grounds for termination.”

“With prejudice,” Roarke finished.

“She still could have things to tell us. We’ll start in the office.”

Since she planned to leave the electronics to him, and McNab when the detective joined in, she walked to the closet.

“Locked. I like it’s locked.” She rolled her shoulders. “Somebody’s got secrets.”

“Would you like me to open the lock?”

“I’ve got it.” She pressed a hand to her recorder. “Gimme your picks.”

“How do you know I have picks on me?”

“Because you always do. Gimme.”

He took out a small case, passed it to her.

Reengaging the record, she got to work on the lock. Sure, it would take her longer, but she wanted to practice anyway.

“Passcoded and fail-safed,” Roarke told her as he worked on the desk unit. “Yes, I’ll agree, someone has secrets.”

“And whoever relocated her or killed her didn’t think of that. Yet, anyway. Got this big auction coming up, got cleanup to do on the escape, got hunters out for Dorian. Busy, busy. Williamson, just a cog in the wheel.”

“It hasn’t been long.” Roarke sat, began to work on bypassing the security on the desk unit. “I’d say they’re not particularly worried about anyone noticing she hasn’t been home. Not worried about the police identifying her, particularly if they found the rest of the broken swipe.”

“Follows.” The thin bead of sweat running down her spine as she worked annoyed the crap out of her. But she kept at it.

“She lives alone, works nights. We’ll check to see if she had any daytime or day off visitors. Talk to neighbors, but— Got it!”

“Congratulations.”

“Bite me, slick.” She opened the closet. “Standard-type office supplies, and ooh, a safe—we’ll get to that. And a couple file boxes of discs.” She pulled them out, set them on the work counter, pawed through.

“Jesus, Roarke, they’re labeled. Trainees—by numbers. Going from … sixty-five to two-fifty-three. She kept records on the girls, her own records on them.”

She paused at the buzzer. “I’ve got that, keep at it.”

She hustled to the door, and snapped orders. “McNab, check the security, see if anyone’s entered the premises since the night of the escape. Peabody, start knocking on doors on this level, determine when anyone last saw Williamson. She hasn’t been here since the night of.”

“On that.”

“McNab, when you’re done here, assist Roarke. Peabody, contact Rohan at the desk. I want the security feeds and visitor’s logs. I want to know if anyone came to visit Williamson in—let’s start with the last three weeks. I want the feeds from the lobby, this hallway, the elevators, and the garage for the last five days.”

“Is she in the wind or dead?” Peabody wondered.

“I’m thinking dead, but maybe she went rabbit. She’s got a safe in her home office. We’ll see what’s in it, if anything. Go.”

She hurried back to Roarke. “Status?”

“Getting there. She either had the skills or hired someone with considerable. It’s a very fine job. Couple minutes more.”

While she waited, Eve selected a disc, used her own PPC. “I’m guessing she had the skills. The discs are encrypted. We’ll get through that, but it’ll take more time. I’m bringing Feeney in.”

Roarke looked up. “Eve, it’s near to midnight.”

“He’s a cop.” Pulling out her ’link, she walked to the master to search while she made the tag.

She found an old ’link, obviously kept as an emergency spare, a tablet, a roll of cash—two grand—in the underwear drawer.

“Like thieves never look there.”

Sexy underwear, but the only sex-type toys she found indicated solo rides. No regular bed partner, she concluded.

Soft, silky fabrics in the undergarments and night wear, some simple, serviceable jewelry, practical shoes on the business side, sex-me-up type on the party side.

“But you didn’t party much, did you, Marlene? All this tells me it was more a wide and twisted fantasy life. Maybe you got decent vacation benefits. That might be party time. Cut it loose somewhere not here.

“What’ve you got?” she asked Peabody without turning around.

“Nobody really knew her, not on this floor anyway. I’ve got a little from the woman across the hall. She knew Williamson worked nights mostly because she’d see Williamson come in some mornings when she headed out to the gym. Wit works remote at home three days a week, so she’d occasionally pass her in the afternoon—going to the market, that sort of thing. Mostly just nodded to each other.”