Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(111)

Roarke opted for a lot rather than the second-level street spot available. The walk would give his wife, his thoroughly pissed cop, a little more time to cool off.

“It wasn’t done for gain, for love, for hate, not because he’s just batshit crazy. Not in hot blood, but cold. It was just done.”

She took out her ’link when it signaled. “Okay, Reo came through. Both search warrant and arrest warrant. Get us a little backup, Peabody,” she added as she got out of the car. “We’re going to have him taken in while we go through his place. I’m betting he didn’t ditch the weapon, and I know damn well we’re going to find some data on his electronics on his killing method, on both vics.”

“I can tag McNab for that.”

“We’ve got our e-geek right here. Tag McNab and tell him to pack, you’re leaving tonight.”

“I— What?” Peabody nearly bobbled her ’link. “Tonight? Now tonight? But—”

“He’s a coward, he’s an amateur, he’s an asshole.” Eve ground the words out. “Do you think I can’t handle him in the box?”

“Yes, I mean, no. But—”

“Tell McNab to clear it with Feeney. You can have a shuttle for them tonight?” she asked Roarke.

“Anytime.”

As Peabody’s eyes welled up, Eve jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t piss me off a-fucking-gain. I’m just getting through it.”

“Okay, but I just have to…” She shook her fists in the air, bopped her hips, did a quick dance. Then threw her arms around Roarke. “She’ll hurt me if I hug her, too. So this is a double. Thank you, so much.”

“I’ll take the double.” And kissed the top of her head for good measure. “You’re more than welcome.”

“If you’re done now,” Eve said coolly, “maybe you could see about that backup. You know, just so we can have this murdering dick-ass taken in.”

“I’m going to get the best backup in the history of backups.”

She proceeded to do so while Eve studied Hyatt’s building. More than decent, she decided, a faux brownstone of twelve stories. One built to look old, with more than decent security.

She mastered through it.

The lobby stood empty and quiet with secondary security requiring guests to register and residents to use swipes for the elevators or the stairwell.

Fucking swipes, she thought.

“Bypass that, will you?” She gestured Roarke toward the security station while Peabody tagged McNab.

“We’re wrapping it. Yeah. I’ll tell you later. Tag Feeney, okay? Dallas says we can go tonight. Yeah, tonight. Woo! I know, I know.”

Eve rolled her eyes at the un-coplike giggle, but she smiled, just a little.

“No, no, stop talking, start packing. Totally, totally. Mag!” Peabody ended with a long, loud kissing sound.

“Sorry,” she said to Eve.

“We will never speak of it.”

With Roarke grinning, Eve swiped her master to call the elevator. “Eighth floor,” she ordered. “Engage recorders. He’s not going to want to open the door when he sees me. If he refuses, you can take care of that,” she said to Roarke.

“Happy to assist.”

“He’s eight-eleven.” The elevator opened and, as they stepped out, she saw a woman, mid-thirties, bold red coat, a tumble of blond hair, step out of eight-oh-six.

“Excuse me.” Eve held up her badge.

“Oh!” The woman’s attractive face displayed the typical unease when faced unexpectedly with the police.

“Do you know Bill Hyatt—eight-eleven?”

“I … yes. A little. Not really know, but—”

“Do me a favor? Just ring his bell.”

“Um … all right.”

“Spoilsport,” Roarke commented as they moved down the hall.

The blonde rang the bell.

“Just stand there and smile a minute. Thanks.”

So the blonde worked up a slightly nervous smile.

The door opened. Hyatt, obviously fresh out of the shower with his hair still a little damp, the scent of manly pine wafting, beamed. “Hey, Cynthia. What can I—”

“Thanks,” Eve said, nudged the blonde aside, put a shoulder against the open door. “William Hyatt, we are duly authorized and warranted to enter and search these premises.” She showed the badge she still held. “Remember me? Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. NYPSD.”

Though he tried to shove the door closed as she spoke, she muscled her way in, along with Roarke and Peabody.

“This is outrageous!”

“Yeah, it is, and it gets better. William Hyatt, you’re under arrest on suspicion of murder—that’s first degree, two counts. You weren’t going to get away with Mars, Bill, but you had a better shot before you killed Kellie Lowry.”

The blonde in the hall gave a little squeak of shock before Peabody closed the door.

Maybe Eve took her time rather than moving straight in to restrain him. And was rewarded when he turned, ran.

“Really?” She let out a little (somewhat pleased) sigh as a door slammed. “I’ve got this.”

“Let her have the moment.” Roarke patted Peabody’s arm. “She’s still working through being pissed.”