Strangers in Death (In Death #26)(8)

“Outside of marriage.”

“Nobody.” Anger and insult snapped through the grief, brought color back to Ben’s face. “That’s a hell of a thing to say. He didn’t cheat. He wasn’t a cheater. You don’t know the kind of man he was. He believed in honesty, in good sportsmanship, in playing to win, but playing it straight.”

“Who stands to gain from his death?”

“Nobody,” Ben replied. “His death diminishes all of us. You mean financially. I would, Ava would.” He let out a long breath. “I don’t know how things were set up. There are probably charitable organizations, there’d be something for Greta—the house manager. But what you’re talking about, that would be me and Ava. I need to get over there.”

Even as he rose, the ’link Leopold still held signaled. After a glance at the display, Leopold offered it. “It’s Mrs. Anders.”

Ben grabbed the ’link, turned his back. “Privacy mode,” he ordered. “Ava. God, Ava, I just heard…I know. I know. It’s all right. Yes, the police are here. Yes, that’s right. I’m coming right over. I—” His voice cracked, then firmed again. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t take it in. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

After ending the transmission, Ben turned back to Eve. His expression was simply shattered. “She needs family. I have to go now.”

“We’ll need to see Mr. Anders’s office,” Eve told him. “And we’ll need to access his electronics.”

“All right. Yes, all right. I have to go. Leo, whatever they need.”

Eve waited until they were heading down. “Funny, isn’t it, how Anders’s office—like his nephew’s—is all casual guy, even a little toward man cave with the trophies and the sports equipment everywhere. Nothing polished, fashionable, or edgy. Nothing like where he lives.”

“Well, he sells the sports stuff. And lots of houses more reflect the woman’s taste than the guy’s. Or one partner’s taste over the other’s.”

She thought of herself and Roarke. When it came to decor, she…never gave it a thought, she admitted. Yet, she had her home office, her somewhat shabby—by comparison with the rest—home office that fit what could be called her style.

“Didn’t notice a man cave at the house,” she commented, and shrugged. “How’d Forrest play for you, Peabody?”

“Forrest wins actor of the century award, or he was sincerely shocked when you told him his uncle was dead, and was sincerely and deeply broken up. There just wasn’t a false note. I believe him.”

“Seemed straight enough. We’ll verify his alibi. If Anders stood as daddy since Forrest was six, that’s twenty-five years or so. Funny that Ava said they didn’t have any children.”

“Well, they didn’t.”

“She didn’t even mention him, and doesn’t call to tell him for hours after the house manager notified her. Maybe a false note,” Eve speculated, “maybe just shock and confusion. Forrest comes off as a nice guy—and a nice, well-off kind of guy. Now he’s a really rich kind of guy.”

“I’ll start a run on him. You didn’t mention really cute kind of guy,” Peabody added as they rode down to the underground garage. “He had that easygoing, athletic thing happening. But the admin?” Peabody hissed air in between her teeth. “Sizzling.”

“Sure, if you’re another guy.”

“Huh?”

“Gay, Peabody.”

“Uh-uh. Why?”

“Could be bi.” With another shrug Eve leaned against the wall. “Either way, he’s got a serious man crush on his boss.”

“I didn’t get that. I did not get that.”

“Because you were too busy being sizzled. Myself, I was practically buried in the unrequited love/lust vibes. Sizzling Leopold had them in check, until Forrest fell apart. Must be tough.”

“Maybe the love/lust isn’t unrequited?”

Eve shook her head. “Forrest is clueless to that part of it. Didn’t even notice Leopold’s quick flinch when he mentioned sleeping with the alibi. Let’s run the sizzler, too.” She pushed off the wall as the doors slid open. “Love makes you do the wacky.”

Yes, indeed it did, she thought a moment later when she saw Roarke leaning casually on her we’re-on-a-budget police vehicle. Tall, lean, with a mane of black hair framing a face blessed by the gods, he shifted those killer blue eyes toward her. It was ridiculous, she thought, to feel that burn in the belly, that thump of the heart over a look—but no more ridiculous than a man who owned a fat chunk of the known universe passing the time on his PPC while he loitered in a parking garage.

He slipped the PPC into his pocket, smiled. “Lieutenant. Hello, Peabody.”

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs buying Alaska?”

“I did that last week. I got wind cops were in the house. What can I do for the NYPSD that I haven’t already done?”

Oh yeah, she thought, the voice was another killer, hinting of Ireland’s misty green hills. And she supposed she should have known he’d get wind . Nothing got by Roarke.

“This one isn’t on you, since you’re alibied for the time in question.”