Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(102)

“Okay,” Eve said again.

Nadine’s gaze sharpened, catlike. “And you already knew that, or some of it. It’s common knowledge in our world that Mars was screwing around with Mitch L. Day, and you already know Day’s wife gave him the boot, and Mars dumped him—just as you’ve likely concluded by now Mitch couldn’t plan a two-car parade much less a murder. So, let’s try the research portion.”

Nadine pointed toward the AutoChef. Eve shrugged.

“My team’s been going at this hard, and I picked up the shovel myself. Dig down and Mars’s data doesn’t hold. The background, lineage, education, it all starts to shake and slide if you get far enough below the surface. I’ve got some more work to do, but I’m going to have to break that story within a day or two, before someone beats me to it.”

Nadine came back with her coffee, sat down. “I’m not too worried, as there’s not much reason for another reporter to dig down too deep, but a good one could smell something and keep going. If Mars is going to be exposed, Channel Seventy-Five needs to do it, or we look like fools.”

Logical, Eve thought. Hard to argue with logic—and what Nadine and her team were finding on their own. “You’ve talked to the big guns about it?”

“Had to. I can’t hold something like this. The woman we’re now officially mourning, one who had a prime spot on our network, was a fraud. Worse. The worse will start tumbling, too. I need you to give me the go.”

“Can’t do it. Yet,” Eve added before Nadine exploded. “Think of it this way: When I can give you the go, you’ll be able to break bigger. We’ll have arrested or at least detained a suspect in Mars’s murder, and part of what led the investigation to that suspect is you and your team’s independent investigation.”

Nadine narrowed her eyes again. “Would that be accurate?”

“It’s not inaccurate. You’re here corroborating information and data that my investigation has found, and is pursuing. And when I can, I’ll give you details on how our investigation, with the skills and dedication of various arms of the NYPSD, uncovered the truth about the victim and identified her killer.”

Nadine held up a finger. “A one-on-one, and a full-spot interview on Now.”

“Agreed.” With DeWinter, Eve thought, or Elsie Kendrick. But she wouldn’t add that just yet.

“That was too easy.”

“Maybe it’s the donut. Or maybe it’s because this one’s different. Off the record, Nadine.”

Nadine knocked her fists against her temples in frustration. “You ought to be bringing me donuts. Off the damn record.”

“She had another place, and in her other place she had records and lists and books. Of her marks, of the transactions. Her data on them, the meets. And in the books were pages dedicated to individual potential marks. Photos—some of which appear to have been taken without the person’s knowledge—articles, interviews, connections to other people. They’re ranked low to high—for potential. You’re in there.”

“What?” Nadine came straight out of the chair. “What?”

“She looked into you, fairly hard, and she’s thorough. She lists your favorite shops, restaurants, where you work out, where you buy cop-bribing donuts. And she has a list of people in those places she’s either talked to about you, or hopes to find something on so they’ll dish it out on you.”

“That goes too far. That fucking bitch.”

“You’re mine.”

“What?” Nadine stopped pacing.

“According to Mars you’re Dallas’s bitch. And I don’t think she was talking sexy three-way on that.”

Nadine kicked at the visitor’s chair with a foot clad in a skyscraper red heel. “I wish she was still alive so I could slap her stupid.”

“You make a lousy bitch then. A good, solid bitch punches. Slaps are for little girls.”

“Slaps are humiliating for the slapee—and don’t bruise the slapper’s knuckles.” Stunned and angry enough to forget about the ass-biting properties of the visitor’s chair, Nadine dropped down into it. “She never approached me other than what I told you before. I swear. I’d have told you. I told her to go to hell, basically, had that recording to back it up. Thought that was that.”

“I got that. I’d have gotten that even if she didn’t have the ranking system, and you never rated above a one. But she tried, even after you metaphorically slapped her. She talked to some guy you dated in college. Scotty. How could you have dated some dude who called himself Scotty and sells used sporting equipment in a mall in Poughkeepsie?”

“Because he was gorgeous, and I only dated him for…” Nadine bapped her fists against her temples again. “Are you kidding me?”

“He said you were a bitch, too. Ambitious and nosy.”

“He would,” Nadine shot back.

“She got a few people you’ve pushed, cornered, harangued by doing your job to say some uncomplimentary things along the way.”

That earned no more than a satisfied smirk. “That means I did my job.”

“But she couldn’t get any solid dirt. She threw out a wide net, and she got lucky with plenty.”

“How many books like that?”