“Or end up in another account,” Roarke said. “Money laundering, and the ten’s her fee.”
“I get that. I don’t have time for that.” But she earmarked the name to send to those who would, and should. Caught Roarke’s grin.
“What?”
“The poor bastard has no idea of the good news/bad news heading his way. ‘Sir, you’re clear of any suspicion of murder, and are now under investigation for money laundering, probable fraud, and so on’.”
“He should’ve thought of that before he got so greedy.”
She moved on, frowned when her ’link signaled.
“Dallas.”
“Hey.” McNab’s pretty face came on screen.
“You’re still at it?”
“Got sucked into the puzzle, you know? She-Body’s up here in the lab working on her stuff, so it’s all smooth. Got pizza and fizzies. But we’re calling it pretty soon, so I wanted to let you know I’ve got some pieces. Man, you would not believe what people throw in a recycler, and in that ritz neighborhood.”
“Pieces of the ’link?”
“Yeah. Only some of it got shredded—we lucked out. It’s crushed to shit, so it’s going to take a while. I can’t say a hundred percent, but what I’m putting together, I’m going to say it looks homemade. It looks like somebody made it out of spare parts. It’s not all from one manufacturer or from the same model—that I can say for a hundred.”
“That’s good. That’s good work. Put Peabody on.”
“Hang a mo. She-Body, Dallas wants a jaw.”
“I don’t want a jaw,” she muttered. Roarke shook his head, made a talking gesture with his hand. “Why doesn’t he say talk?”
The screen bobbled as McNab passed the ’link. Peabody came on.
“We’re making some progress—McNab told you his. I’ve got one good possible out of the first eight.”
“Good. Send it. We’ve got…” Roarke held up a finger, signaling he had another. “Nine out of the first twenty-nine. I’ll copy you.”
“How’d you get through twenty-nine? I’ve been at this since—”
“Roarke’s working some.”
“Oh. Okay, that’s better. He’s really fast with comp work.”
“I’m beating his total,” Eve said before she could stop herself. “Doesn’t matter. Stop at ten, go home. Both of you.”
“Twenty,” Peabody said. “I’ve got twenty in me.”
“Twenty. Send me all potentials before you leave. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”
Eve clicked off, pressed her fingers to her eyes.
“You can take a break,” Roarke pointed out.
“No, not yet.”
“A pick-me-up then. Milk and cookies.”
“I’m not drinking milk. Do you know where it comes from?” The idea made her shudder.
“As does the cheese on the pizza you’re so fond of.”
“Entirely different. Cookies, maybe. After I do another five.”
“What about soy milk?”
“Soy milk, soy milk. Say that a few times running and tell me it doesn’t sound revolting.”
“I fear I can’t.” He glanced at his wrist unit when it beeped. “That’s Tokyo. I need to deal with this, then I’ll be back. For cookies and something other than milk of any kind.”
She went through the next five, painstakingly. Moved on to another three before she pushed away from the command center, moved around the room, circled the board.
Her gut wasn’t wrong, she thought, and her head was in line with it now. But she still had work to do, the routine, the eliminations.
She went back, brought up the names of the possibles the other team members had sent her. And lined them up.
Seventeen so far. Seventeen who had enough in their backgrounds, histories, routines, lives to be considered potential rapists, murderers.
Eighty more eliminated, by herself and people she trusted to do the job right.
Another forty-plus yet to be put through the intrusion of a police search.
And every inch of the cop she was knew what he hid behind his mask.
She went back, set aside the current work, pushed down the avenue where her gut, her head told her to go.
“Took longer than I’d hoped,” Roarke said as he came back. “You really should take that break. Five minutes to rest your eyes, your brain.”
He paused when he glanced at the wall screen, at the list of names.
“You have more.”
“I put up what the other team members sent. We’re more than halfway done with this first pass. We’ll need those deeper runs on what we cull out. I’m going to want to take a look at the ones the others have listed, but if they pulled them out, there’s something.”
He looked back at her. “You’re a cop to the bone.”
“No surprise there.”
“And the love of my life. I know all sides of you. You found something. Someone.”
“I can’t say that. More than one someone up there.”
“What did you find?” he persisted.
“Cheats, liars, some shady dealings, embarrassments, mistakes, good deeds, broken hearts.”
“Eve.”
“Life’s full of all of that.” Then she sighed. “You have a respected, high-skilled doctor—not much liked on a personal level, but respected. A BFD in his world. His bad luck isn’t just being dead, but that the investigation into his murder will expose him as an abuser, possibly a sadist. A cruel, domineering son of a bitch who preyed on a vulnerable, much younger woman and essentially made her a prisoner of his will.