Innocent in Death (In Death #24)(30)

“Style you always had.”

Her lips curved. “Yes, but I liked not having to work for it. I never enjoyed that end as much as you.”

“Divorce hasn’t left you destitute.”

“Hardly. I outlasted the terms of the prenup both times and I’m solid.” She shrugged. “And at loose ends. I’d planned to contact you, when I worked up the courage. Running into you last night that way…I nearly turned around and left again. But you saw me, so I braved it out. How’d I do?”

He gave her an easy smile. “Smooth as ever.”

“I was hoping to surprise you, but wanted to prepare for it, set the stage. Tell me, does your relationship with your wife afford you any freedom?”

He understood the question and the very open invitation under it. Nor could he misunderstand the hand she’d laid lightly on his thigh.

“I don’t equate marriage with prison, but see it as a promise. A maze of them. I take promises very seriously.”

“Still…” She touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip. “If promises aren’t flexible, they’re more easy to break.”

There was a challenge in her eyes, and the come-on-let’s-play laughter along with it. He’d found the combination all but irresistible once. “Bending them only changes them into something they weren’t meant to be in the first place. You should know, Maggie, before you say or do anything that would embarrass you, that I’m completely in love with my wife.”

She stared at him for a moment, intensely, as if trying to see the con. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her hand from his thigh, set it back on the table. “I assumed you had some angle for aligning yourself with a cop.”

“If you knew her, you’d understand Eve is no one’s mark. Regardless, I wouldn’t betray her for anything. Or anyone.”

“Well…” Then she gave that pretty shrug again, that quick and wicked smile. “No harm in trying.”

It was best, he decided, to table that area of conversation. “How long do you plan to be in New York?”

“It depends. You might help me with that.” When he raised a brow, she laughed. “That’s not a proposition, lover. I’d hoped to ask for your advice. Investment advice.”

“I’d think you’d have your own people for that.”

“Georges’s people—and however civil we are, it’s delicate. I have a very nice cushion of disposable income. Unreported assets. I’d as soon not involve Georges’s very efficient and by-the-book advisers in my investments. But an old, trusted friend who’s considerably skilled in this sort of thing. You’re the one who taught me, long ago, the value of…cushions. I was thinking real estate, tucking it under a few layers to avoid the tax dogs.”

“Are you looking for additional income, turning a profit, or sheltering your cushion?”

“All, if I can manage it.”

“How soft is this cushion?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes danced. “About fifteen that’s tucked—deeply—away. I was fond of Andre and of Georges, as I said, and enjoyed the lifestyles we shared. But I never expected it to last forever in either case. I juggled a bit here and there along the way. And I have some jewelry that doesn’t really suit me. I’d like to turn that liquid. Discreetly.”

“You’d want property in New York?”

“That would be my first choice, unless you’ve a better suggestion.”

“I’ll think about it. I’ll be able to give you some options, Maggie, but you’ll have to create those layers yourself. I can point you in the right direction, and to the right people. That’s all I can do.”

“That would be more than enough.” Her hand touched his arm again, rubbed up and down. “I appreciate it. I’m staying at Franklin’s pied-à-terre for the time being. I’ll give you the address, and my contact numbers.”

“Enjoying the benefits of companionship with a wealthy, older man?”

She forked up salad, flashed a grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Eve located a single plant in New Jersey that processed castor oil. It was worth the trip, she decided, particularly since she felt cooped up in her office.

Along the way, Peabody caught her up with her own investigative results. “I ran the names of parents or child-care providers who signed in yesterday. Shuffled down the list those who had confirmed appointments with faculty members, and those who signed in and out during the times the vic was known to be in his classroom. Leaves us four potentials.”

“Do any of them connect to Foster?’

“Two had kids in his classes this term. I wanted to check, see if either kid had trouble there, academically, or discipline problems. But Principal Mosebly’s being pissy about sharing the records.”

“Is she really?” The idea gave Eve something like a warm glow. “It’ll be a pleasure to take her down on that. I’ll get a warrant.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“Of the other two, one got a knock for assault a couple years ago. She went after some guy with a baseball bat at a Little League game. Broke his shoulder.”

“There’s team spirit.”