Obsession in Death(97)

This was the dilemma, and why she’d made no move at all. Yet.

Time to decide, time to make that move. She’d contact a realtor after the first of the year. Or… she’d ask Roarke. Who knew more about real estate than the guy who owned so much of it?

One thing for certain, wherever she landed would have a kick-ass bathroom – and a spacious dressing area. Time to reap some of the benefits of her hard work, and the good luck that had landed sizzling stories in her lap.

With a glance in the mirror she considered pulling her hair out of the band that held it back in a little tail – reminded herself it was only a messenger, and she didn’t have to be camera ready.

The buzz decided her, and she walked out, as is, to answer the intercom.



Be calm, the messenger told herself. No, bored, a little bored is better. It’s late, it’s cold, you want to get this finished and go home. Bored and impatient, not calm.

She ran a hand over the bill of the flapped cap, made sure it was tilted low – and ran her fingers over the stunner in her pocket.

Nervous, she admitted. Nervous this time because this time was different. But… no, not really. Not really different.

Didn’t Nadine Furst profit from death and crime? The bigger, the more profit and glory? What did she do that was productive?

Nothing.

She only reaped in the fame, the fortune, and helped soil Eve’s purity.

No, not different at all. True justice, true friendship meant this was as necessary and as right as Bastwick and Ledo.

Settling, she waited, even as she itched to press the buzzer again.

When Nadine’s voice came through the speaker, she was careful to keep her head angled, her face shielded by shadows.

There were no more nerves, but only the first waves of excitement.

“Nadine Furst?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ve got a packet from a Cabott, Channel Seventy-five.”

“Let’s see your ID.”

She’d prepared for this – it irritated to be asked, but she’d prepared. She pulled out the ID she’d made. It would pass a low-level scan; she’d tested it herself.

And when it did, she felt another tickle of excitement.

“Come on up.”

When Nadine buzzed her in, her heart began to beat hard, hard at the base of her throat. So hard, she couldn’t swallow, but she crossed the tiny lobby, called the elevator.

As she did, a couple of teenagers came barreling in the main doors, squealing with laughter.

“His face! His face! Total caution!”

“I know, right? Ultramazing. We abso have to tag Flo-lo, give her the deal and the deets.”

They clambered on the elevator with her in their thick-soled boots and hats with bouncing puffy balls, smelling of sugar and strawberry shampoo.

“I’m just twee!”

“You are? I’m twee-squared. Flo-lo’s going to completely pop. Screwed she’s under house arrest. We need her to trio like now.”

“Her mom’s down, so no chance.”

She could kill them, she thought. The squealing girls with their strawberry hair and shining faces.

Stun them both, cut their throats, leave their bodies smelling of blood and strawberries.

It’s what happened to girls who weren’t careful. Girls who weren’t respectful.

Didn’t they see her standing here?

Her ears rang with pressure, her chest ached with it. Fingering the stunner, just brushing her fingertips over it, eased the pressure. As the elevator climbed, and the girls’ voices squealed and shrieked in her head, she started to draw the stunner out.

The elevator doors opened; the girls clumped out, laughing like hyenas.

Not the plan, she reminded herself, annoyed her fingers trembled. Focus was essential. Nadine.

But girls that age made her so angry, so full of grief and despair and rage.

Had to put them, all of them, out of her mind. Work to be done.

And when it was done, the happiness would come again.

To settle, she brought Eve’s face into her mind, and understood, like a light blooming, she was doing exactly the right thing. For Eve, for herself. For their friendship.

Some part of her had always planned to do this – just not on a fully conscious level. Otherwise she wouldn’t have taken all that time, put in all that effort to learn about all these distractions, these obstacles.

Removing them was key to their partnership, their happiness. Their unity.

How could Eve understand she was the true friend if there were others trying to push her aside?

People always pushed her aside.

All her life, they’d pushed her aside, put her into corners, told her to be good, to be quiet. Behave.

No more.

Steady again, focused again, she walked off the elevator. Face angled away from the camera, tipped down.

She slipped her right hand in her pocket, pressed the buzzer with her left.

Nadine, she thought, would never shunt her aside in Eve’s affections again.

Inside, Nadine rolled her eyes at Eve’s last e-mail. Who’d have thought the tough, kick-your-ass-to-next-Tuesday cop would be such a fussy mother hen?

But she studied the latest sketch with interest. She’d check, be sure it was cleared – because she really didn’t want her ass kicked to next Tuesday – and if so she could go in tonight, do a special bulletin, get herself a nice scoop on the competition.