Vengeance in Death (In Death #6)(102)

“McNab?”

“Don’t be pissy,” Eve ordered, engaging wipers as a thin, wet snow began to fall. “I need Summerset’s ‘link logs checked.” She engaged the car ‘link again and contacted the hospital for an update on Murray.

“He could come out of it,” she said as she drove through the gates of her home. “There’s more brain wave activity, and he responded to VR stimulus. His wife’s with him.”

She barely stopped the car when she noted another vehicle scooting down the drive behind her. Her initial annoyance at the interruption faded when she recognized the car.

“Feeney.”

He got out of his car, his skin pink from the Mexican sun, his clothes rumpled, his wiry red hair topped by an incredibly silly straw hat.

“Hey, kid.” He dragged a box out of the car and, nearly staggering under its weight, carried it toward her. “Just got back, and the wife wanted me to bring you over a little thank-you for lending us the place. Some place.”

He rolled his eyes. “Peabody, you gotta tag Dallas for a couple weeks there. It’s a frigging Mex palace right on a damn cliff. You can be lying in bed, reach out the window and pluck a mango right off the tree. Got a pool the size of a lake and a droid to do everything but zip your fly in the morning. You going to let me in? This thing weighs fifty pounds if it weighs an ounce.”

“Sure. I didn’t think you were coming back till…” She trailed off when she reached the door and realized today was the day he was due back. “I lost track.”

He dumped the box on a table in the foyer, rolled his shoulders. “So, what’s new?”

“Nothing much. I got three homicides and an attempted, connected. Mutilations. Guy contacted me personally, set it up as a game with religious overtones. Last victim’s in a coma, but will probably pull through. Roarke knew all the victims back in Dublin and Summerset just bounced to the top of the suspect list.”

Feeney shook his head. “Never changes. I tell you I never turned on the screen for two weeks for anything but sports and — ” He stopped and his droopy eyes went wide. “Summerset?”

“I’ll fill you in while we do the search. McNab’s on his way over.”

“McNab.” Feeney danced after her, ditching his straw hat and his vacation mood as he went. “EDD’s working with you on this?”

“Our guy’s an electronics and communications whiz. He’s got a high-end jammer among his toys. McNab’s been cutting through the layers, and he managed to nail the source. But we haven’t found his hole.”

“McNab. The boy’s good. I’ve been bringing him along.”

“You can talk techno-jazz when he gets here. Right now I’ve got a straight search — and a ‘link log to verify.” She paused at the entrance to Summerset’s quarters. “You want in, or do you want to go back and find your party hat?”

“I’ll just call the wife and tell her I won’t be home for supper.”

Eve grinned. “I missed you, Feeney. Damned if I didn’t.”

He grinned wickedly. “The wife took six hours of video. She wants you and Roarke to come over for dinner next week, and the show.” Wiggling his brows, he turned to Peabody. “You come too.”

“Oh, well, Captain, I wouldn’t want to horn in on — “

“Stow it, Peabody. If I have to suffer, you have to suffer too. That’s chain of command.”

“Another incentive,” Peabody decided, “for increasing my rank. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“No problem. Recorder on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve; Feeney, Captain Ryan; Peabody, Officer Delia entering quarters of Summerset, Lawrence Charles, standard search for evidence.”

She’d never been inside Summerset’s private domain. It was just one more surprise. Where she’d expected the stark and utilitarian, straight edges and minimal style, was a lovely living area with soft, blending tones of blue and green, pretty trinkets on tables of honey-hued wood, generous, giving cushions, and an air of welcome.

“Who’d have figured it?” Eve shook her head. “You look at this and picture a guy who enjoys life, even has friends. Feeney, take the communications center, will you. Peabody — That’ll be McNab,” she said when the buzz sounded from the recessed house monitor on the south wall. “Clear him through, Peabody, then I want you to start in here. I’ll take the bedroom.”

Four rooms spread out from the living area like ribs of a fan. The first was an efficient office and control center where Feeney rubbed his hands together and dived into the equipment. Opposite that was an equally efficient kitchen that Eve ignored for now.

Two bedrooms faced each other, but one was doubling now as an artist’s studio. Eve pursed her lips, studied the watercolor still life in progress on the easel. She knew it was fruit because she saw the huge bowl with overflowing grapes and glossy apples on the table under the window. On the canvas, however, the fruit was having a very bad season.

“Don’t quit your day job,” she murmured and turned in to his bedroom.

The bed was big, with an elaborate pewter headboard that twisted into vines and silvery leaves. The duvet was thick and spread neatly over the mattress without a wrinkle. The closet held two dozen suits, all black, all so similar in style they might have been cloned. Shoes, again black, were housed in clear protective boxes and ruthlessly polished.