Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(70)

Saying nothing, he crossed the room, took her face in his hands, kissed her gently.

“It’s not like me. She gave him a jab and ran. She had a mother—because the aunt was her mother—to run to. And unless the case file from the asshole in St. Louis leads me in a different direction, she didn’t kill him like she thinks she did. He and the whore ended up putting several holes in each other. But she’s carried that around, and that I understand. We’ve got another mother trying to protect her kid from rape by sick fuck ex, and the kid ends up killing him. Santiago and Carmichael caught that one. We’ve got people, so far on this one, mostly trying to protect loved ones as much, maybe more, than themselves. That was Mars’s skill.”

“She sniffed out people with dark secrets who could pay.”

“Had to have some misses, like with you, but I think she, yeah, sniff’s a good word. She had a sense, at least about where to start looking. Maybe she had some form of sensitivity, maybe who she was will help us pin that down. She sniffed out, then she preyed. In at least one case, she had somebody drug a potential mark’s drink, set him up so she could squeeze him. It likely wasn’t the first time she helped her hobby along. Was it business or pleasure, or a mix? I should talk to Mira, get her take.”

“Because the more you understand the victim, the more you might the killer.”

“Usually.” Her computer signaled an incoming. “Feeney’s report,” she said after a glance. “Excellent.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

“I have a seven o’clock interview with another mark, close to home—I mean our literal home this time.”

“I’ll wait and go with you. I’ll find a place to work in the meantime.”

“Where do you hole up?”

“Here and there.” He kissed the top of her head when she sat back down at her desk. “Just tag me when you’re ready to go.”

“Will— Shit, wait. I’ll walk out with you. I want to cut Peabody and McNab loose.”

“Now who’s being a mother?”

Mildly insulted, she scowled. “I’m being a lieutenant. If my team’s burnt, they’re useless to me.”

She walked out and up to Peabody’s desk. “Do you have the run on Hyatt?”

“Just finished. Hey,” she said to Roarke. “You guys push through?”

“We did, or near enough.”

“Send me the data,” Eve said to Peabody, “then go cut McNab loose. I’ve got the case files from St. Louis coming in shortly.” Or there would be hell to pay. “Anything there that needs a closer look, I’ll let you know.”

“Solid. I went ahead and— Have you got a minute?”

“I’m standing here,” Eve pointed out.

“I’ll leave you to your cop talk,” Roarke said and wandered over to Jenkinson and his eye-burning tie.

“I went ahead and did quick runs on Knight’s family. They come off clean and normal. A couple of minor bumps here and there. I could take a closer look at those, but I don’t think it’d lead anywhere. And I checked travel, because sometimes you don’t think your family knows stuff, but they do. None of them were in New York yesterday, or for months.”

“Good thinking. So for now, we cross any of them off. We’ll take a look at that angle on the other marks. Somebody protecting somebody who was protecting themselves or others. Copy me the data on Hyatt, and take off.”

She turned to go back to her office, saw both Jenkinson, his tie, and Roarke were gone.

Back at her desk, she read Feeney’s data. Fifteen more names—a few of which she actually recognized. A couple more sports figures, a defense attorney she’d faced off with a time or two in court, one other who rang a dim bell she thought might be an actor.

She scanned the amounts paid.

“You had more. You’ve got more on your list,” Eve muttered to herself. “A cool mil in your home safe? Plus those buried accounts, the art and jewelry. You’ve got a longer list somewhere.”

As she started runs on the names she had, her ’link signaled. She nearly ignored it, but decided maybe Nadine had something worth the interruption.

“Don’t talk to me unless you’ve got information,” Eve said.

“I’m fine, how are you?”

“About to cut you off.”

“How about instead you come by my place. I could come to Central, but I just got home and I’d like to stay here. You’re still at work.”

“Do you have something for me worth the trip?”

“I might.”

“Then just spill it.”

“Dallas, I want a big glass of wine, and I don’t want to do this on the ’link.”

“Fine. On the way.”

She cut Nadine off, tagged Roarke with a text.

Need to go by Nadine’s, so leaving now. Sorry.

Even as she grabbed her coat, he answered.

Meet you in the garage.

She ordered all applicable files and data transferred to her home unit, filled a file bag with more. And, taking one last look at her murder board, started out.

She ran into a grim-faced Trueheart, stopped, as he very rarely managed a grim face.

“Problem, Detective?”