Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(37)

“Of the three we’ve ID’d, we have an experienced street kid, an impulse runner from a good family, and a kid from the working class who was, by all reports, well behaved and learning to cope with loss. What they have in common is age, size—and, in two, confirmed connection to the crime scene.”

“From what you know, age and size will remain common traits.”

“So it follows the other commonality will hold true for the twelve. It just reaffirms the killer connects to The Sanctuary, and likely HPCCY.”

“Another resident?” Roarke suggested. “Have you considered this may have been done by another child?”

“I’m running it around. An older kid. They took them, supposedly to eighteen, but they may have had a few that bumped over that.”

“Letting it slide a bit,” Roarke agreed. “Maybe having those who hit the age limit but still had nothing do a bit of work around the place in exchange for room and board.”

“They’d be the type to do that,” Eve agreed, thinking of her impression of the Joneses. “A boy. Girls that age might trust an older girl, but aren’t they pretty stupid about boys in those years?”

“I’ve never been a teenaged girl, so I couldn’t say for certain. You were.”

“Me? Hell, I was never stupid about boys. Until you anyway.”

He laughed into his wine. “That’s so sweet.”

“I had too much going on to get stupid about boys. I wouldn’t even have had sex except I was curious what was the big deal. Turned out, at least back then, it wasn’t all that big.”

He laughed again, just enjoying her. “How old were you? I can’t believe I’ve never asked.”

“I don’t know, about seventeen probably. Everybody else, or mostly, was banging like hammers, so I figured I should find out why. How about you?”

He lifted his wine. “I believe I’ll take the Fifth, once again.”

“Oh no, you don’t. It’s got to be in the marriage rules. I tell you, you tell me.”

“Rules are so . . . confining, but all right then. About fourteen. The Dublin streets and alleys were colorful, we could say.”

“I bet. Wait.” She lifted a finger. “Is that accounting for you finding out you’re a year younger than you thought?”

She watched his face go blank a moment—a rare event. “Ah well. Ha.” He rose, began gathering the dishes.

“Thirteen? Seriously?”

“In my circumstances, it was grow up fast or pay the price. In any case, darling, think of all the practice I had before we met.”

She angled her head. “You really want me to think about that?”

“Maybe not. Instead consider you’re the only one I want to be with for all the rest of my life.” He leaned over, kissed her knuckles.

“Good save.”

“It was indeed, and also pure truth. I’ll deal with these dishes so you can get back to it.”

“Appreciate it.”

She looked over at the board he’d begun. Yeah, he knew her system. She had another face to add now, and rose to add Lupa Dison to the others. She added the aunt, Rosetta Vega Delagio, as a connector, the primary investigator’s data, the time line—or what she had of it.

Then began, systematically, adding the staff of The Sanctuary.

“That’s considerable,” Roarke said when he joined her.

“They all need to be run. Peabody should have started on it.” She shot him a glance. “Do you have stuff?”

“This and that, nothing pressing.”

Which likely meant more this and a whole bunch more of that than most people handled in a week.

“If you’ve got time, and feel like it, you could contact her, see how far she’s gotten.”

“And take a few off her hands?”

“You probably shouldn’t, technically, but it would save time.”

“And I do love poking in other people’s business. I’ve time to do a bit of it.”

“I really want to go through the list of residents who fit the pattern. I can eliminate any I find who’re alive and well, or on record as deceased.”

“And get a clearer idea who might be among the remaining nine.” He touched a finger to Lupa’s photo. The sad eyes. “Will you notify the aunt?”

“Tomorrow. It’s not going to change tonight for anyone. And I’m going to take a pass on the residents—older, male. Maybe I’ll ring some bell.”

“Then I’ll play with Peabody.” But he drew Eve against him first, just held her. “It already rings bells, for both of us.”

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes a moment. Held on. “It could’ve been me. And cross the ocean to some building, it could’ve been you.”

“Were we just too smart? Or just too mean?”

“A little of both, but even the smart and mean can fall through a trapdoor. Still.” She lifted her face, kissed him. “Let’s stay smart and mean.”

“We couldn’t be otherwise.”

He went to his adjoining office, left the door open.

She went back to her desk, rubbed her hands over her face. And got down to it.

Within an hour she’d eliminated all but eighteen on the list. Some had gone on to lead what appeared to be normal, even productive lives. Others had served time, or were currently serving it as guests of various states or the feds. Some were dead, and everyone who’d died had done so violently.