Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(19)

The wall-spanning mirror over the counter turned into a view screen by remote or voice command.

The ledge surrounding three sides of the tub held candles in clear glass bowls and a trio of slim, ornate pitchers.

Cabinets under the counter opened to drawers filled with beauty products and tools.

She’d come back to it.

For now she went back to the bed, opened the drawer on the bedside table. She took out two tablets, one full size, one mini. Swiped, found them both passcoded.

Deciding she’d let Roarke take a pass at them, she set them on the bed rather than bagging them, moved around to the far side of the bed.

“Party time,” she announced after opening the drawer.

Sex toys, enhancers, lotions, and lubes filled the drawer.

She lifted out a two-ended vibrator, noted it offered both warm and cool. It had a self-lube feature, and a control marked Ecstacy.

Curious, she flipped it on, brows rising when nubs popped out as it whirled in various directions and speeds.

Roarke started in, then just leaned on the doorjamb and grinned. “Now, there’s a picture.”

Vibrator still humming and whirling, she looked over. “There’s this port on it. I think it’s for VR, so you can hook into the program while you do yourself. Packs a lot into a small, compact package.”

She turned it off, set it aside.

“In addition we have a variety pack of condoms—stay safe—nipple clamps, cock rings, a couple gel vibrators, lubes, cuffs, your classic ball gag, cord restraints, blah-blah, hard-on pills, strap-ons, and a few illegals, including Rabbit.”

“An active sex life.”

“Solo and with friends by the look of it. Tablets over there, passcoded.”

“I’ll look at them. She has droids—the human replica variety and a couple of small robotics. The replica has been in sleep mode since noon—that’s its standard programming. It’s also programmed for sex, which is not at all surprising. Its name is Henri, and though it has other wardrobe, at the moment it’s garbed in a loincloth.”

“What? Like the jungle guy?”

“Yes, like the jungle guy.”

“Takes all kinds.” She angled her head, giving Roarke a long study.

“You’re picturing me in a loincloth. I feel so cheap.”

“Nothing cheap about you, pal. She’s got an office across the hall. Data and comm center.”

“I saw it, yes, and I’ll get to it. She has a tablet in the kitchen. It reads as a social calendar. Parties, openings, premieres, lunch and dinner dates. Henri says it’s part of his programming to keep it updated. The ’link in the kitchen is also his tool. A scroll through indicates its communication with caterers, reservations, ordering supplies, that sort of thing.”

“Okay. I’ll bag them anyway, and EDD can go through them.”

“Then I’ll take a look at the office.”

Eve rose to take the closet. Enormous, packed, with a vanity alcove and separate shoe closet, it boasted such perfect organization Eve decided Henri took care of this, too.

Plenty of lingerie and sexy underwear in the built-in drawers—and an entire section just for belts.

Just belts—she marveled. Another for scarves. Yet another for the winter season’s hats and gloves.

Evening wear, on-camera wear, cocktail wear, snazzy day wear, all carefully cataloged on the closet comp, with clear notations on what had been worn where.

She worked her way through it, painstakingly, and found the safe.

“Now maybe we’ve got something.”

Crouching down, she studied it, wondered if she could crack it. She’d developed and honed some skills since Roarke had started teaching her. No question he could open it in a fraction of the time, but—

She continued to study the safe as she pulled out her signaling ’link.

“Dallas.”

“Peabody. McNab finally got through her purse electronics. We stopped for some food, but the real time suck? Seriously shielded. Even fail-safed.”

“What did you find?”

“She had a jammer on the ’link, to block logging any tags, so he’s got to work on that one. The PPC’s encrypted, but we’ve been working there. We think we might have the key. Dallas, we think she was blackmailing people.”

“Do tell.”

“Yeah, it’s…” On screen, Peabody’s expression dropped into a pout. “You knew that already?”

“Yeah—Bellami confirmed, and he’s low to off the list. But clearly he wasn’t her first or only mark, so let’s get more.”

“Working on it, but even what we’ve broken down so far? It’s like code names, or pet names. Not actual names. We’ve got some dates, some amounts. She doesn’t list them as either, but that’s what rings.”

“Get what you can, send me whatever it is. Knock off and go home when you think you’ve done all that makes sense for tonight.”

“We’ve got some juice left.”

“We’re at her place now. I’ve got a safe here. Let’s see what she locked away.”

“Is Roarke cracking it?”

Annoyance shimmered. “He’s busy. I’m on this.”

“But … okay.”

Only more annoyed, Eve clicked off, scowled at the safe.