Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(46)
“And if one of them’s a killer, he needs to pay for it. He made a choice.” Eve rose. “If you feel you can’t do the digging or ask anyone here to do it with you, that’s your choice. I won’t hold it against you.”
“You went after cops—and that’s your family—when they crossed the line.”
“That was my choice.”
Nodding, Nadine took a long, slow sip of water. She paced a moment, sipping again, weighing it all.
“I’m in,” she said firmly. “I’m in because I can’t not be. It may give me some bad moments, but I’m all in. And yes, if I find something that points to someone here, as much as it grates, I’ll tell you.”
Lowering the bottle, she heaved out a breath. “I can’t say I hated her guts. I didn’t care enough to hate her guts, and maybe that’s harsher in a way. But I care plenty about doing my job, and what’s right about my job, to do this.”
“Figured. Watch your six.”
Now Nadine smiled. “I wonder what happened to the delicious young Bruno. Anyway, I’ll watch my six.”
“Good. I’ve got work.”
“That makes two of us.”
10
Eve intended to deal with Mars’s office first. As she rounded the corner, she saw Peabody standing in the corridor admiring her newly painted face in a little hand mirror.
“Put that damn thing away.”
Peabody batted newly lushed and darkened lashes. “But I look so pretty.”
“We’ll see how pretty you look after I pop you in one of your Trina’d eyes.”
Unabashed, Peabody batted them again. “We went subtle with Baby Fawn on the lids, and a touch of Mocha in the crease. But I really love the Forest Shadows liner.” Peabody risked one more peek before the mirror disappeared into a pocket. “Besides, I used my time wisely, and after Trina told me about Annie Knight, I had her tap her associate who’s in makeup at Knight at Night for Knight’s schedule. She’s slated to be in her studio and offices all day.”
“Add her to our list.” Eve turned to the sealed door. “And let’s track down Wylee Stamford.”
“Is he one of Mars’s marks? Entertainment again?”
Truly stunned, Eve turned back around. “Jesus, Peabody, sports. Mets. Third baseman. King of the double play.”
“Oh, yeah, yeah. He’s the one with the really cute butt. Well, a lot of them have cute butts. It’s the uniforms, maybe.”
“I die a little,” Eve grumbled, starting to unseal the door again.
“Hold on. Mitch L. Day’s heading this way.”
Eve glanced over. He rang a bell now—she’d seen that classic golden-boy face with its dazzling smile splashed across maxibuses.
He shot her one now, then toned it down—as efficiently as a dimmer switch—as he stepped up to her and Peabody.
“Ladies, I’m sorry, but if you had an appointment with Larinda…”
Eve simply took out her badge.
The dimmed smile vanished. Lights out.
“I see. I’ll leave you to your business.”
“You’re part of that business. We have some questions for you.”
“I’m afraid I’m very busy.”
“Wow, me, too.” Eve added a smile of her own—on the feral side. “We can always coordinate our busy schedules and arrange for you to come down to Central to answer those questions.”
“I simply don’t see the need—”
“I do, and I’ve got the badge. We can talk right here about your adulterous, sexual relationship with the deceased, or we could discuss it in your office.”
His eyes, a smoky blue-gray, hardened, and the faintest flush—anger or embarrassment—rose to his cheeks. “If you insist.”
“It happens I do.”
He turned and walked into the office opposite.
Eve supposed he fit the physical mode for screen personalities. He hit about six feet with a trim build that showed off well in the upscale casual look of a dark gray leather jacket over a silky T-shirt a few shades bluer than his eyes.
His hair, a wavy golden mane, flowed around a sharply chiseled face with the added charm of dimples that dipped into his cheeks when he flashed the megawatt smile.
A build that hit in the parameters of the third man leaving the bar, Eve calculated. And a dark watch cap would cover that gilded mane.
He shut the door to his office—though the term didn’t really fit, as the room lacked a desk. Instead it held an expansive black leather sofa, a long table in zebra stripes, a massive entertainment screen, a full bar, and an alcove holding rolling racks of clothes and a triple full-length mirror.
“I’ve just finished shooting bumpers for today’s show,” he began, “and have to be on set in thirty, so I hope this won’t take long. We’re all having a difficult day around here, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“I’m sure you are. Larinda Mars had a difficult day yesterday.”
He looked away, seeming to study a large framed poster of himself that showcased his chiseled looks and dazzling smile. “I still can’t comprehend it, but that’s no excuse for my lack of manners. Please, sit. How can I help?”