Visions in Death (In Death #19)(96)

"You can count on that. Witness lives same block as Peabody. Get me the exact address." Then she looked over at him as he called up the data. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. But this isn't just for you."

"No. I know." Needing the contact, she reached over, gripped his hand as she drove through the gates. "But thanks."

Chapter Twenty

She didn't bother to hunt up a parking space, but doubled beside a clunky solar mini that looked as if it hadn't moved in six months.

Flipping the on-duty light, she stepped out and ignored the shouted "Cops suck!" from the driver of a rusted compact stuck behind her. If she'd been feeling more chirpy, she'd have taken the time to stroll over and have a little chat with him.

Instead, because she couldn't help herself, she walked across the street and studied the bloodstains on the pavement.

"Laid in wait. That's his style. Maybe he followed her sometime, tracked her home sometime, and she didn't make the tail."

But she shook her head even as she said it. "You can't just pop a cop's address out. You work at it, maybe you can finesse it, but there are blocks on cops' personal data. Had to tail her, or do some heavy hacking."

She thought about the interview for Nadine, and the media conference. Both times she'd pushed Peabody forward.

"How long would it take a decent hacker to pop a blocked address?"

"Depending on talent and equipment..." Roarke was studying the bloodstains as well, and thinking of Peabody. Her steadiness, her sweetness. "Anywhere from an hour to a few days."

"An hour? Jesus, why do we bother?"

"It's a shield against the general populace. Tapping into a cop's data is an automatic flag for CompuGuard. It's a heavy risk unless you don't give a bloody damn, or you know how to get around the blocks and guards. You have any reason to think he's got above-average hacking skills?"

"Just thinking. He knew his victims' schedules, their routes, their habits. Where they lived. And all but one lived without a partner."

"Elisa Maplewood lived in a family unit."

"Yeah, a family unit with the male portion of that unit out of the country. Maybe he factors that element in. He tailed them, yeah. Had to do some of that. And we've got Merriweather's comment about the big, bald guy on her subway. But he could've done some comp research. Gather as much data as possible. He takes risks, sure—big ones. But they're calculated. And the guy we're projecting doesn't blend. Merriweather spotted him. So I'm thinking he doesn't do extensive fieldwork."

"Preps as much as possible by remote."

"It's possible. Probable. He moved fast with Peabody. Faster, I think, than the others. That's because she wasn't the standard for him. She's an add-on—prove a point because he was pissed. Or threatened."

She stayed as she was, tilted her head to look up at the apartment windows. "And you know what else?"

"He didn't know enough about her to know there was another cop up there. Waiting for her. Or enough about the neighborhood to consider someone might spot him and try to help."

"Didn't do as much research. Too mad, too threatened, in too much of a hurry."

Eve angled back to look down the street. "She takes the subway most times, and she wouldn't be looking for a shadow. He could've stalked her, like he stalked the others. But I don't think it worked that way because she'd have made him. She'd have made a tail. She's got good eyes, good instincts."

"Hacking her address would cut back on the time, and the risk of being seen."

"Yeah. And she was putting in overtime. You have to log any assigned OT. If he could get her address, he could get her schedule, because when I hooked her with Feeney and brought you in, I plugged it into the system."

He took her chin, turning her head so their eyes met. "Eve."

"I'm not blaming myself." Or was trying not to. "I'm blaming him. I'm just trying to see how it went down, that's all. He nails her home location, knows she'll be late. If he knows all that, he knows she doesn't have a personal vehicle registered in her name, and that she'll most likely be on foot. So he comes here, parks, and just waits. Patient bastard. He just waits until she comes along."

"Still risky. This street's well-lighted, and she's less than a half a block from her door. And she's a cop, armed and able. It wasn't smart," Roarke said. "It wasn't like the others."

"No, with her—me—he was pissed. Prove a point, like I said. But at the base of it, he doesn't figure she'll give him trouble. Not like she did. She's just a woman, and he's a big, strong man. Take her down, take her down, toss her in the back of the van, and poof."

She crouched down, laid her hand on the stain of her partner's blood. "Where was he going to take her? Same place, same place he took the others, the ones before? The missings and presumeds."

"She'll have gotten a good look at him. She'll be able to describe him more thoroughly, even more than Celina."

Eve glanced up. "If she remembers. Head trauma, she might not remember. But if she does, she'll make him. She's sharp and she notes the details. She'll be the one who takes him down. When she wakes up. If she remembers."