Divided in Death (In Death #18)(15)

"If we're partners now, how come I have to do all the tagging?" Peabody shouted back. "And are we ever going to eat? We've already been on the clock six hours, and my blood sugar's dropping. I can feel it."

"Just move your ass," Eve shot back, but she smiled. At least she still worked with somebody who knew how to bitch.

***

Because she appreciated it, and she remembered she hadn't eaten since the night before herself, she double-parked in front of a 24/7 and let Peabody make the dash in for some to-go food.

They were both going to need to go off the clock for a couple of hours, get some sleep. But she wanted to get a look at Blair's workspace and get all the electronics and security discs in evidence first.

Because the only why she could think of equaled security. The only why made Reva the real target. The killings took her out, deliberately. Unless there was a personal reason to target her, and she'd explore that angle, it was professional.

Any professional motive against Reva brushed a little too close for comfort to Roarke. So she intended to move fast, and get as much locked into Central as she could before moving on to the next stage.

Peabody hurried out again, carrying an enormous take-out bag.

"Got hoagies." With a grunt, she dropped back in the seat.

"What, for the whole squad?"

"And other provisions."

"Because we're going on safari?"

With some dignity, Peabody pulled out a tidily wrapped hoagie and passed it to Eve. "Drinks, and a bag of soy chips, and a bag of dried apricots-"

"Dried apricots, in case the rumor of the coming Armageddon is true."

"And some damn cookies." Peabody's face closed in on a scowl that was edging toward pout. "I'm hungry, and when you're on a roll like this I might not see food again until I'm a withered sack of bones. You don't have to eat, you know." She made a fuss out of unwrapping her own sandwich. "Nobody's holding a blaster to your head."

Eve peeked inside her sandwich and saw something that was pretending to have come from a pig. It was good enough. "In the event of Armageddon, I hope those cookies have some form of chocolate in them."

"Maybe." Slightly mollified when Eve drove one-handed and bit into her sandwich, Peabody opened a tube of Pepsi and stuck it in the drink slot.

By the time Eve got to the Flatiron Building, Peabody had mowed her way through the hoagie and a good portion of chips. As a result, both her mood and her energy were up again.

"This is my favorite New York building," she said. "When I first moved here, I took a day and went around taking pictures of the places I used to read about. This was one of the top on my list. It's so yesterday, you know. But here it is, still standing. The oldest remaining skyscraper in the city."

Eve hadn't known that. Then again she didn't collect that sort of trivia. She supposed she'd admired its unique triangular style now and then, in an absent sort of way.

But for her, buildings simply were. People lived or worked in them, and they took up space, gave the city shape.

She decided against trying Broadway for parking, as this section always had a party going on. Instead she turned onto Twenty-third and crammed her unit into a loading zone.

The next drop-off or pickup was going to bitch, but she flipped up her ON DUTY sign, and climbed out.

"Bissel rented space on the top floor."

"Jesus, that's got to be prime."

Eve nodded as they walked toward an entrance door. "I glanced through his financials, and he could afford it. Apparently that metal crap he built went for big bucks. And he had his own gallery, bought and sold art."

"His connection to Felicity Kade?"

"Apparently. She was a client, according to Reva. So she bought from both Blair and Reva, and she's the one who persuaded Reva to come to the art showing where Reva met Blair."

"Cozy."

With appreciation, Eve glanced at Peabody as they crossed the lobby. "That's right. Too cozy for my liking, too. So why do you figure Felicity puts her lover and her friend together?"

"Maybe they weren't lovers yet. Or maybe she didn't know they'd get serious about each other."

"Maybe." Eve bypassed the security desk and used the code Reva had given her to access the elevator to the top floor. Instead of the doors opening, the computer gave a warning buzz.

You are not cleared for this elevator. Please return to the security and/or information desk for instructions on how to access the public entrance of Bissel Gallery. This elevator is for private use only.

"Maybe she gave you the wrong code," Peabody suggested.

"I don't think so."

Eve walked to the main security station. "Who used that elevator last?"

The young, prim woman in black curled her lip. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't bother," Eve told her and slapped down her badge. "Just answer the question."

"I'll need to verify your identification." With her nose still in the air, she scanned Eve's badge, then slid over a palm plate. When Eve's ID was verified, she tucked the palm plate away again. "Is this about what happened to Mr. Bissel?"

Eve merely smiled. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman sniffed, then turned to her log book. "Mr. Bissel himself was the last to use that elevator. It goes directly to his studio. His employees and clients use the one to the right. That will go to the gallery."