Creation in Death (In Death #25)(56)

“Thanks. Boy. Thanks. I know it’s silly. Nobody’s going to bother us, but…”

“We’ll all feel better, under the circumstances, if you’re tucked in here. Why don’t you get in touch with Leonardo, let him know?”

“Okay. Good. Thanks. Roarke?”

“Hmmm?”

“If Trina hadn’t changed her hair…”

“I know.” He kissed the top of her head now. “We’re all very glad mocha didn’t suit her.”

12

EVE WENT STRAIGHT TO HER DESK, POINTED TO a chair. “Sit. Let’s get this down. Start with height, weight, build.”

“I thought you had that already.” Trina glanced around. She’d been in Eve’s office before, but not in eyewitness capacity. “How come you don’t fix this place up, like the rest of the house?”

“It’s not the rest of the house. Trina, concentrate.”

“I just wondered why you’d want to work in the low rent section of the Taj Mahal or whatever.”

“I’m a sentimental fool. Height.”

“Okay, ummm. On the short side. Under five-eight. More than five-four. See, I was sitting at the counter at the bar, and he stood, and…” She pursed her lips, used the flat of her hand to measure the air. “Yeah. Like five-six or-seven? That’s best guess.”

“Weight.”

“I don’t know. When I do bodywork, people are naked. I don’t gauge when they’ve got clothes on. I’m going to say he was, like, solid, but not the R-and-P type.”

“R-and-P?”

“Roly and poly. He was…” She curved her hands over her stomach, rolled them up her chest. “Carrying it in the front, like some guys do. Not a waddler, but not Mr. Health and Fitness Club either. Poochy, like your uncle Carmine.”

“If I had one. Okay. How about coloring?”

“He had this pewter brushback, thick on top and short on the sides. But that was the enhancer.”

“Dark gray, short and thick.”

“Dark gray’s dull, you ask me. Pewter’s got a soft gleam. But anyway, yeah. It was white when I saw him at the bar the other time. If it was him, which I pretty much think it was. Fluffy and white. Nice. Don’t know why he’d go for pewter when he has the Snow Cap going.”

“White hair. You’re saying that wasn’t a wig.”

“It was a glimpse—a quick ‘Oh, hey, I know that guy.’ But yeah, at a glimpse it looked like his own topper. Not a hundred percent on that one.”

“Eyes?”

“Jeez. Look, Dallas, I don’t know for sure. I’m thinking light. On the light side, but I’m not sure if we’re talking blue or green or gray, hazel. But I’m almost sure they weren’t dark. You know, the hair enhancer looked off to me from the get, because it was dark, and the rest of him wasn’t. He had really good skin.”

“How so?”

“Pale, soft-looking. Some lines, sure, but not dug in. He takes care of his skin. No jowly stuff going on either, so he’s maybe had a little work. He had a nice smooth texture to his skin.”

“Pale,” Eve mumbled. Pale hair, pale eyes, pale skin. A pale man. Maybe the Romanian psychic hadn’t been completely full of shit.

“Yeah, yeah. He colored his eyebrows to match the enhancer. It was off, just a little. Mostly you wouldn’t notice, but it’s my business to notice. White in the bar when I was figuring to give this guy I was drinking with the ride of his life.”

“You said he was a suit. Was that literal or just because he looked like a suit?”

“Both. He was wearing one—I think gray, like the hair and eyebrows. Probably. And he looked like the kind of guy who had a closetful of suits. Three-piece,” she added. “Yeah, yeah, vest, pants, jacket. Little pocket accent and tie. Spiffed, you know? Same in the bar. Dark suit. Nice contrast with the white hair.”

She paused, then rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s just really hitting me. I’d’ve taken the gig. If he’d tagged me back, I’d’ve taken it. Personal day, a nice chunk of change. No harm.”

Her breath trembled out as the color slid out of her cheeks. “He seemed so nice and…I want to say ‘safe.’ Some sweet older guy who wanted to do something special for his sick wife. I’d’ve charged him through the nose, but I’d have taken the job.”

“You didn’t take it,” Eve reminded her. “And he made a mistake trying for you. You pay attention, you notice details and you remember. Listen to me.”

She leaned forward because she could see it was, indeed, just hitting Trina. Not only had she lost color, she was beginning to shake a little. “Look at me and listen to what I’m telling you. He took someone today. Another one today. She’s got some time before he starts on her. He takes time. Are you hearing me?”

“Yeah.” Trina moistened her lips. “Yeah.”

“He made a mistake with you,” Eve repeated. “And what you’re telling me, what you’re going to do tomorrow with the police artist is going to help us get to him. You’re going to help us save her life, Trina. Maybe more than hers. You get that?”

Trina nodded. “Can I get some water, maybe? I just went so dry.”