Born in Death (In Death #23)(85)

She woke, stretched nearly horizontal as Roarke stopped in front of the house. Rather than refreshing her, the mobile nap left her groggy and disoriented, and fumbling for the controls to bring her seat back up.

Roarke lifted it, as he’d lowered it, from his side of the controls. “You need actual sleep.”

“I need actual coffee.”

She’d have food to go with it, Roarke determined as he walked with her into the house.

“Red meat,” he said to Summerset. “Her office AC. If the others haven’t eaten, send up a bloody cow.”

“Right away.” As they headed up, Summerset lifted the cat that ribboned between his legs. “We’ll just put some nice green beans along with that steak. She won’t like it, but he’ll make her eat them, won’t he?”

Mavis didn’t exactly pop up when Eve entered the office, but she managed to shove herself out of the chair. “You’re back.”

“Yeah, sorry, things got complicated. You’ve got to give me a few minutes to deal with another thing.”

“You get the list?” Peabody asked her. “There are a couple that look good to me.”

“List of what?”

“The agencies, counselors. You said I should send it to your PPC.”

“Right, right.” Her brain felt like mush. “I didn’t get the chance to review. Something came up. I would give you the world drenched in chocolate for a cup of coffee.”

“I’ll get it for you.” Leonardo eased Mavis back in a chair.

“Chocolate thief,” Peabody said, hoping to make Mavis smile. “Anyway, a couple stand out for me. So—”

“I’ll look it over in a few minutes. I need to pull you and McNab off this, put you on another assignment. Randall Sloan is dead.”

“Well, shit, you’ve had a busy day.”

“Staged suicide, that’s my take. I worked the scene, sweepers will be processing.”

Peabody opened her mouth, glanced at Mavis, then nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll fill you in, then I need you and McNab back at the scene.”

“You’ll fill them in over a meal,” Roarke added.

“As soon as I look over the list.”

“It’ll wait.” It was Leonardo who spoke as he carried in a mug of coffee. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said to Mavis, “but she needs to eat, to rest for a little while.”

“Jeez.” Eve took the coffee as if it contained the staff of life. “What is it with men?”

“He’s right.” Mavis pushed her hands though her hair. “He’s right. You look whipped and kicked. We’ll eat. We’ll all sit down and eat.”

They brought in a table, dragged up chairs. While the coffee helped cut through the fog in her brain, Eve had to admit the protein got her blood moving again.

“A hell of an operation,” McNab commented when she’d run through the bulk of it. “What’s funding it?”

“That’s another question. Illegals, weapons, mob money?” Eve lifted a shoulder. “We’ll dig it out. Or Global will. Bullock, Chase, or someone on their payroll murdered three people—that we know of—to protect that operation.”

“And they’re still in New York.” Peabody tried not to hum out loud in pleasure as she swallowed steak. “Why? I mean, after killing Randall Sloan, why not make tracks? It seems they’d want to be long gone before his body was discovered.”

“Another question. They still have business here. They feel safe where they are. From their point of view, they’re removed from the investigation. They were an alibi for a man who was not involved—and he, in turn, covers them. Another man has confessed to the murders, and being dead, can’t recant that confession. But you’re right, they’d need a reason to stay here, when they could be anywhere else.”

She contemplated as she ate. “They wanted the body discovered, and in good time. No reason to leave the security off and the door unlatched otherwise. The sooner it’s found, the sooner they can put this whole untidy business behind them. Must be irritating,” she decided, “to be so rich and powerful and have little people picking at your foundation. Like ants.”

“I don’t think ants pick,” Peabody said. “They more dig, probably.”

“Whatever. You are what you are, and they’re nothing. Tried to buy the nosy accountant off, but she’s annoyingly honest. You’re not going to see your whole lifestyle, your rep, your wealth put in jeopardy by some number cruncher. That’s why the murder was personal. She got in your face, so you got in hers. I can come right into your home, you stupid bitch. What are you going to do about it? And I’m going to hurt you because you had thenerve to threaten me and mine. Then, when I’m satisfied you’ve told me everything I need to know, I’m going to kill you with my own hands, and watch you die. But not before I tell you that I’m going to do the same thing to your lover. So you die in pain, in fear, and in grief.”

She forked up a tiny new potato. “What?” she demanded as the table sat in silence, staring at her. “What?”

“Creepshow.” Mavis picked up her water glass, drank deep. “Squared.”

“Oh. Sorry.”