Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(53)

He did something to the tablet. Another bunch of symbols scrolled on along with incomprehensible geek code.

“Okay, maybe this.”

He did something else. The screen wavered, then actual words came on.

“Okay, just her calendar. Let me—”

“Wait. Hold it.” Eve poked his arm to stop him, stepped closer to the screen.

“Travel from last October—eight through twelve. Majestic Resort and Spa, CI.”

“Canary Islands,” Roarke supplied.

“Okay. See notation on October eight? Durante, with two stars. Person, place, thing? And later in the month, October twenty, she’s got Durante again, six P.M., Gino’s—bar, restaurant, potentially a person—with three stars. And once more on the twenty-third, five-thirty, DV—that’s going to be Du Vin—followed by two dollar signs and one of those stupid smiley faces.”

“Person,” Feeney said. “A mark.”

“Yeah, goes to the resort maybe to loll around and get some tune-ups, and to troll this Durante. People rate with stars, right? Maybe it’s a rating system. She ups the rating with a follow-up meeting, then the dollar signs. Durante pays. Move to November, McNab. And yeah. Keep going, month to month.”

“You’ve got Durante, every month—dollar signs.” McNab shifted calendar pages. “Other names, too. Durante, third or fourth week of every month, right through January.”

She gestured, then fisted her hands on her hips. “She’s got Bellami down for last night, at the bar, the stars—no dollar signs yet, as he hadn’t made the first payment. Appointments through the month, Gino’s again, DV again. Send this to me, and we’ll run the names that repeat.”

She nodded. “Nice work, McNab.”

“Thanks. Not done yet.”

“Keep me posted. I’m in the field.”

But she sent Roarke a look before she started out.

He followed her. “Since you look particularly refreshed, I assume you found the burger.”

“Yeah, appreciated. Plus, Trina had some juice about Mars. I had to let her snip and buzz and play with my damn face, but it’s going to be worth it.”

“Your face is always worth it to me.”

“Sap time.” She poked him. “Anyway, I did something and realized I should’ve run it by you before I did it, but now it’s done. About Peabody and McNab.”

“Unless it involves a naked foursome, I’m likely fine with it.”

“I hate when you sneak stuff like that into my head. It involves the villa in Mexico and one of your shuttles. She told me he’s burnt—and I could see he’s looking, well, a little hollow.”

Roarke glanced back briefly. “I noticed, yes. A little hollow around the eyes, and not as, well, bouncy as our Ian.”

Eve looked through the glass herself, watched McNab’s shoulders, hips, feet all jiggle at the same time as he worked.

“Still got plenty of bounce, but … Anyway, Peabody was trying to put together a couple of days away once this is wrapped, give him some downtime, and I said she should take like five days, and then I offered the villa before I thought about it.”

“You don’t have to think about it. It’s there, and it would give them a good break from the winter and the work.”

“Yeah, but it’s—” She caught herself before she said yours, as that would just piss him off. “It’s probably in the Marriage Rules that you consult.”

“Very fine save, Lieutenant.” He skimmed his finger down the dent in her chin. “Let’s say the consult should be simply to make sure whatever’s offered is available during a specific time frame. And this is available, as it’s unoccupied at the moment.”

“Okay. I’ve got to get moving.” She stepped away, stopped. “Did you know…” Checked to make sure no one stood within earshot. “Did you know there’s been bullshit in some of the tabloids about you and Nadine and me and three-way sex?”

“Now look what you’ve put in my head.” He smiled, shrugged. “It’s the nature of tabloids, darling, and easily dismissed. If and when they go too far, legal handles it, but if it troubles you, they can take a harder line.”

“I don’t worry about it. It’s just weird what people put out there and other people scoop up like bullshit ice cream.”

“Well now, it’s hard to see many would enjoy that particular favor, but you’re not wrong about the appetite for salacious gossip.”

“Salacious bullshit then. It’s only relevant as it’s something Mars did—marginally classier than her sideline, but in the same universe. Except she couldn’t lie, just fabricate,” Eve considered. “She wouldn’t have lasted at Seventy-Five if she’d just made things up. And she wouldn’t get payoffs unless she hit truths.

“You’re not going to hit truth every time,” Eve speculated. “Something to think about. I’ll see you.”

“If you’re not coming back, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll hitch a ride home with you.”

“I’ll be back,” she called out, striding to the closest glide.

When she walked into Homicide, Peabody, her desk ’link in one hand, signaled with the other. She veered straight into her office, grabbed her coat. As she turned, Santiago stepped to her doorway.