Thankless in Death (In Death #37)(46)

“Oyster,” Roarke corrected when McNab’s brows drew together in puzzlement.

“He’s too cocky-looking not to have another hole ready to crawl into. The Village maybe, or SoHo, Tribeca. Or maybe he walked south, and then caught an uptown bus. Tucked in by now, wherever the hell he is. I’m going to check out the hotel.”

“I’m with you,” Roarke said and pushed to his feet.

“Do you want me to keep running the search, Lieutenant?”

She considered it, shook her head. “We’ve got what we’re going to get, and it’ll have to be good enough. Peabody’s using the crib.”

McNab’s face brightened. “Oh yeah?”

“And don’t even think about doing the deed in there.” She strode out, knowing he’d probably do more than think about it.

She decided to risk the elevator, breathed a little easier when she found it empty.

“What kind of a place is the Grandline?”

“I thought you might ask.” Roarke tapped his PPC. “Midsized business hotel, twenty-four-hour services to accommodate the business traveler.”

“A step down from The Manor.”

“Well, most are.”

She scowled when the doors opened and a pair of uniforms dragged in a pair of bloody, battered, still spitting street LCs.

“It’s my corner, you thieving whore-bitch.”

“You don’t own the sidewalk, Cuntzilla.”

“You tried to steal my john, right in my f**king face!”

“I can’t help I was walking by and he went for me instead of your fat, dumpy ass.”

Noting the fire in fat, dumpy ass’s eye, Eve instinctively nudged Roarke back an instant before FDA kicked out with a foot squeezed into a shoe with a toe as sharp and pointed as a stiletto. It connected with bare shin. Thieving whore-bitch let out an ear-splitting yowl, swiped out with inch-long nails as pointed as the shoes.

This time blood flew, and pandemonium reigned as the uniforms fought to drag the women apart.

TWB tore FDA’s sparkly pink shirt, exposing one impressive man-made breast.

“And you ask why men enjoy watching women fight,” Roarke commented.

“Oh, for the sake of silicone Jesus.” Eve grabbed one of them by the hair, she didn’t know or care which one. Yanked, dragged, and managed to plant a boot on the other one’s neck.

“Knock it off!” Her voice echoed in the confines of the elevator. “Or I’ll stun the pair of you. And shut the f**k up,” she added when the pair of them screamed out their curses and complaints.

“Secure these two, damn it.”

“Come on, Dorie, what the hell?” One of the uniforms crouched to slap restraints on one pair of wrists while he partner did the other.

The elevator doors opened. “Get them off.”

“We’re actually taking them down to—”

“Now.”

“Yes, sir.” Hauling them up, the uniforms pulled the now weeping and wailing LCs off the car.

“Well now, that was entertaining.” Roarke took out a handkerchief, caught Eve’s chin in his hand.

“What?”

“Just a little back-blow from the nail swipe. “There, that’s better.”

“God” was all she said until they reached the garage level.

“You drive,” she told him. “I want to check on some things on the way.”

He got behind the wheel. “Such as?”

“I want to make sure Morris is on the third DB. I can put together how and when, I sure as hell know who and why, but it keeps it consistent. And I want to alert Harpo—hair and fiber queen—at the lab. Mira thinks he took some of the vic’s hair. That’s a personal trophy if so. And I want to check on the probabilities I had Peabody run on his next victim.”

“You believe there’ll be a next.”

“He’s got one picked out. If we don’t net him soon, we’ll have another DB for Morris.” She paused long enough to scrub her hands over her face. “If he put half this time, effort, and thought into any one of the jobs he’s blown through, he’d be at least middle management by now.”

“This is more fun.”

“You got that right. He’s found himself. They have sites, right? Conduits, avenues, to hype yourself as a kill-for-hire, or to look for one.”

He sent her a sidelong glance.

“You’d know … people who know people.”

“Possibly. That was never my avenue nor did I buy rounds at the pub for those who drove along it.”

“But you know people.”

“I do.”

“It’s just a side angle, but he likes this, and so far it’s working for him. He likes the high life and he likes killing. Right now he’s killing people he knows, has some grudge against, but most of them aren’t going to keep him in the high life. Why not make your hobby your profession? He might think that.”

“It’s an interesting side angle. I’ll ask around.”

“He shouldn’t have gotten this far.” She let her head rest back. “He hit it lucky with Nuccio. She picks today to be out of reach, get a new ’link and number. Without that, I connect with her, and I’d have asked about the locks. On top of it, he tried her old number, I know he did. We’d have had that, even on a clone, I’d have known he was trying to find her. Everything just played in his favor.”