Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(103)

Eve pointed to the boxes on the floor by her desk, and Nadine leaped up.

“You have to let me see them.”

“No.”

“Damn it. At least let me see what she gathered on me.”

“I can’t, and you know I can’t. What I’m telling you here is between friends. Mavis is in there, and Leonardo. She even has data on Bella—where she plays, where she takes her baby classes.”

At her sides, Nadine’s hands balled into fists. “Maybe I would have bruised my knuckles on her bitch face. For that, maybe I would have.”

“And maybe I feel the same, but somewhere in here, in the other records of her targets, her marks, those connected to them, is her killer. It’s my job to find him, to stand for her and bring her killer to justice. She deserved a few punches in the face, and some years in a cage. She didn’t deserve to bleed out on the floor of a bar.”

To calm herself, Nadine took two long breaths. “You’re in there, too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And Roarke. Of course Roarke.” Taking another breath, Nadine unclenched her fists. “If you have another avenue you want me to explore, I’ll go there. Anything I can do, or have my team do. Not only for the story, and not for her. You have to stand for her. I don’t. But I’ll sure as hell stand with you and whoever else is in those books.”

And that, Eve thought, was a primary reason they were friends.

“Nudge your source at Seventy-Five. It could be interesting to get a different perspective on Knight Productions. I’ll be going through the data we collected, and may find others she targeted there. And at Seventy-Five. And see what you can find about Missy Lee Durante.”

“The actress?”

“She’s clear, but she has a lot of people surrounding her. Family, managers, hangers-on. A lot of people connected to her show and her career who might have been targets, or objected to her being targeted.”

“We’ll get right on it.”

“You heading down to the garage?”

“Looks like.”

“Good.” Eve swung on her coat, grabbed a file bag, hefted one of the boxes. “I’m going to work at home, in the quiet. Grab the other box.”

Nadine bent down, lifted it two inches. “It’s heavy!”

“Put your back into it, bitch.”

Nadine hauled it up, teetered a little. “Let me show you how this is done.”

Struggling some, she walked out with Eve, then angled toward Baxter’s desk. She didn’t flutter her lashes, Eve noted, but it was implied.

Baxter swiveled away from his work, rose. “Hey, let me get that for you.”

“Thanks. I was going to help Dallas take all this down to her car.”

“Too heavy for you.”

Eve didn’t roll her eyes, but it was implied. “Hold on a minute.” She carted her box, which was apparently not too heavy for her, to Peabody’s desk. “Taking these home to work. Keep on the comp data, and keep a running loop on it to me. Clock out at end of shift.”

“I don’t think I’ll make a serious dent by then.”

“Clock out. You can work at home on some of it.” She shifted the weight of the box. The damn thing was heavy. “Let’s go.”





21

Against the snapping cold, Eve carried the first box into the house. She had a Summerset snark set and felt annoyance when she found the foyer empty, and her snark at the ready.

Still, without him there, she didn’t feel honor bound to cart the damn box up the stairs, and walked back to the elevator, used the box to hold the door open until she went back for the second.

Then, shoving them both in, stepped in and ordered her office. She decided Summerset would likely be dealing with packing. He’d need at least a dozen black suits, right? He probably sat on the beach wearing one, with a carefully knotted tie.

At least, she didn’t want to imagine him wearing anything else. Or less.

The idea made her shudder.

When the elevator opened, she shoved the boxes out. She bent to lift one, heard Roarke’s voice from his adjoining office.

Leaving the boxes where they were, she crossed over.

“I’m looking at it now, yes,” he said into the ’link as he studied some sort of schematic on screen. “Hold a moment.” He put the ’link on pause. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

“You, too.”

“I only got here shortly ago.”

Long enough, she thought, to have taken off his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves, and tied back his hair.

The cat stretched across his command center, yawned.

“Just a bit of work I wanted to handle in the quiet.”

“Same here.”

“I should be wrapped up with this in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” She started to step back. “Summerset packing?”

“Unpacking by now, I’d hope. We have weather coming in late tonight into the morning. I nudged him along.”

She stopped stepping back. “‘Along’ as in out? Out of the house?”

“I didn’t like the idea of him flying out in bad weather, so persuaded him to leave today.”

Eve held up a hand like a stop sign. “You’re saying—let’s be absolutely clear—this house is Summerset-free?”