Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(101)

He stopped short at her tone. “Ah, giving Peabody a hand. Evidence boxes. On your desk.”

Her eyes stayed narrowed. “Yeah?”

“Well, yeah. A couple of them, and they had some weight.”

“You’ve got nothing else to do?”

“We just closed one. Carmichael’s writing it up.”

Since they stood there, and she continued to give him the hard eye, Santiago ran it down.

“Guy breaks into a loft in SoHo. Female occupant is home sick instead of at work as she normally would’ve been at that time of day. She wakes up while the thief’s banging around unhooking electronics, comes out of the bedroom upstairs thinking it’s her cohab. She’s half naked, just wearing this big T-shirt. Thief’s coming up, goes for her, knocks her around a little, as she’s medicated. But she bounces back and beats the crap out of him.”

A hint of admiration glinted in his eyes. “Turns out she’s a boxer—competitor and an instructor at a local gym. She gives him a solid roundhouse, and he takes a header down the stairs, breaks his neck. She calls it in.”

“How fast?” Eve asked, mostly for form.

“Nine-one-one came in under two minutes after TOD. Uniforms respond, secure the scene. Her statement holds up, boss, and it reads self-defense. The DB has a sheet a mile wide. B and E—he goes for female households—assaults, again he goes for women. The locks and security were compromised, he’d piled up all the easily portable electronics and valuables on the first floor. Had an empty sack with him going up, and dropped it when he charged her. Looks like he tripped over it when she fought back.

“She took some solid hits in the first round,” he added, with that admiration glinting again, “but she came back at him. She says he turned to run away, got his feet tangled in the sack, and took the dive down. That’s how it reads.”

Eve folded her arms. “KO’d the DB.”

“You got it.”

“Okay. What about the kid? The rape and stabbing.”

“You had the right angle, boss. I was able to talk straight to the dad, and when we brought Reo in, between her and Carmichael—and the dad again—we got the mother to tell the truth. Reo had to practically sign off in blood for the mom, but we got it worked out, we closed it.”

“How’s the kid?”

“Medicals say she’ll be fine. Rape counselor’s working with her and the mom. She’s got good parents. She’ll get through.”

“Okay. Beat it.”

She turned into her office, studied the boxes on her desk. Confirming Santiago’s statement, but still.

She closed and locked her door. She walked to the AutoChef, rolled her shoulders, lifted it high enough to see the bottom, where she’d used black tape to affix her secret candy bar. She’d tried hiding it in the AC, programming it as something healthy and unappealing. That hadn’t fooled the infamous Candy Thief.

But so far, her secret stash remained. Satisfied, she set the machine down again, and rolled her shoulders one more time. The ancient AC weighed a freaking ton.

Which might be why the Candy Thief had yet to find her newest hiding place.

Score one for Dallas, she thought, and programmed coffee.

She took the mug to the door, unlocked it before anyone noticed.

Sitting, she considered the books. The slow simmer—if that theory held—would have started there, but likely graduated to the top rating and the comp ledger.

Unless the killer was never a target, but someone connected to one. She stacked the books on the floor, broke the seal on the top one, brought the ledger up on her comp.

And heard the brisk click of heels coming toward her office.

Nadine walked in.

“What did you bribe the bullpen with?”

“I went for the classic.”

“What kind of donuts?”

“Variety.”

When Eve simply sat, head angled, Nadine reached into her enormous purse, pulled out a small take-out bag. “Separated yours.”

“Smart.” Eve looked in, sniffed. The scent of yeast and sugar stirred the appetite she’d forgotten through the day. She took the fat, golden pastry out, bit in. Found cream.

Bonus.

“You earned a seat.”

Nadine glanced dubiously at the visitor’s chair. “I earned better than that.”

With a shrug, Eve rose, gave Nadine her desk chair.

“I’ll go first,” Nadine said. “There’s a lot more underlying animosity mixed with trepidation about Mars than I knew. Most just kept their heads down with her. I may not be a cop, but I report on them. I’m going to say I didn’t brush up against anyone who appears to have had enough animosity or trepidation to kill her.”

“People have a tendency to be careful how they appear to cops and those who report on them.”

“True, but good cops, and good reporters, can see through that. I know a lot of these people personally, and I’m torn about this, but I’m going to give you a couple more names of people I think she might have been blackmailing.”

“Okay.”

“In addition to that, I have a source at Seventy-Five who’s romantically involved with someone at Knight at Night. Mars made herself at home over there, according to my source, more than anyone could figure. She’d breeze in and out, and often timed it when Annie had interviews or meetings with A-list celebs. She’d end up with her own little snippets and scoops that way. I know Annie, and like her. I especially like Bic, her partner. It’s hard to see Annie giving someone like Mars that kind of access unless she was being pressured.”