Roarke’s A-T laughed at shitty road-crew work, and muscled its way over the snow-crusted ice with a smooth, satisfied hum. The sun decided to bust out—which brought out the carts, the street vendors with scarves, caps, gloves, shovels, gray-market boots, and window scrapers.
Pedestrians began to pick their way along sidewalks. Kids, busted out of school for the day, raced, airboarded, and generally looked maniacally happy.
By the time they’d worked through the first five on the list, the traffic was back in force. The ad blimps boomed out the thrill of the Blizzard of ’61 sales.
Eve hated to admit it, but it all felt more normal.
They moved from arty loft to dignified townhouse, from slick converted warehouse to ultra-modern residence.
She didn’t feel a real buzz until number seven on the list.
Toya L’Page and Gray Burroughs lived in what had once been a church in Turtle Bay. The tall, arched doors opened directly onto the sidewalk. The stained-glass window over it gleamed color in the winter sun.
Eve gave her information and her badge for screening to the door comp, waiting until that door opened. A teenage girl with short, spiky, plum-colored hair peered at Eve with enormous brown eyes.
“Are you really cops?” she demanded.
Eve held up her badge again, and the girl sniffed.
“Like you can’t buy fake ID.”
“Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. Check with Cop Central if you’re worried about it. Otherwise we’d like to speak to Toya L’Page and/or Gray Burroughs.”
The kid cocked her hip—bodily snark. “Maybe they’re busy.”
“Why don’t you find out?”
“Gemma, you’re letting the cold in. You need to … Oh, sorry.”
Eve had seen a slice of beautiful women on this investigation. Toya L’Page towered over the rest.
She easily hit six feet in her skids, and all of it willowy and perfect. Her skin appeared poreless, without artifice, a rich, deep brown smooth over knife-edged cheekbones. Her mouth, full, sharply sculpted, curved slightly. Large tawny eyes showed caution and curiosity as she moved quickly to the door. Subtly draped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, putting herself between Gemma and Eve.
“Can I help you?”
“She says they’re cops,” Gemma announced, with ripe skepticism.
“Oh. Could I see some…” She trailed off as Eve held up her badge again. “Yes, of course. Can I ask what this is about?”
“We’d just like to ask you, and your husband if he’s available, some questions in connection with an investigation.”
“No way Toya or Gray did anything illegal. They’re totally equidistance.”
“We’re making inquiries,” Eve continued, “hoping for assistance in an investigation. Can we come in, Ms. L’Page? We won’t take up much of your time.”
“Of course. I apologize.”
“You don’t have to let them in without a warrant.”
“All right, Gemma.” Toya leaned down, brushed her lips to the girl’s temple. “My sister-in-law is very protective. Please come in.”
“You live here?” Eve asked the girl.
“I could if I wanted.”
“Gemma’s just hanging, right, Gemma? We’re going to try for some skating and sledding later. Will you go tell Gray to come down?”
Gemma shot Eve a warning look, then dashed to a staircase on the side of a spacious, open-concept entrance and living area. Light from the stained glass scattered over old wooden plank floors like jewels.
“This is a beautiful home, Ms. L’Page,” Peabody commented, head swiveling to take in the high ceilings, arched windows, massive fireplace.
“Thank you. We just love it. We’re still tweaking a few things. Please sit.” She gestured to high-backed chairs near the roaring fire, settled herself on a curvy sofa with carved wood trim.
“It was a church pre-Urbans. A nondenominational church and a community gathering place. It served as a shelter and a hospital during the wars, and was abandoned after for some time.”
“You were able to save some of the original features.”
“Some, and some we reconstructed. My husband’s an architect, and he simply fell in love with the building. His father had bought it, mostly for sentiment as he’d worked here, as a medical, during the Urbans.”
She was trying, Eve observed, to be polite, not to show nerves. So Eve let Peabody chat her up.
“My father and my brother are carpenters. They’d really appreciate what you’ve done here. How long have you lived here?”
“This is year three. We don’t count the year before that as it was full of workers and we only stayed occasionally. Sort of camping out. Gray.” Toya got to her feet when her husband came in, Gemma all but glued to his side.
He was tall like his wife, gym-fit, with a striking face with features that made Eve think of exotic islands with grass skirts and tiki huts.
“Is there a problem?”
Eve stood. “We’d like to ask you a few questions in connection with an investigation.”
He gave his sister a narrow stare. “Gemma.”
“I didn’t do anything! And it was a scavenger hunt. I wasn’t stealing. Plus, they’re Homicide. I looked them up before I went to get you. Somebody’s dead, and we sure as hell didn’t kill anybody.”
“Homicide?” Toya wrapped her long, elegant fingers around Gray’s arm.