“Chloe McCoy was killed for what she knew or had in her possession. The autopsy confirmed that she had inserted birth control. She was expecting a lover. The only lover who has come to light is Blair Bissel.”
“Who’s dead, and among the missing,” Feeney put in.
“There’s little doubt she believed she was expecting Blair Bissel. This was a naive, theatrical, and gullible young woman. Play it right and she would’ve believed her lover had risen from the dead and was coming over to play-to tell her all, to seek her help, to ride off into the sunset with her. The killer had only to gain access to her apartment, keep her calm, induce her to drink the drugged wine. I’m Blair’s friend, associate, brother. He asked me to explain everything to you. He’ll be here as soon as it’s safe.”
“She’d have let him in,” Peabody agreed. “She’d have loved the excitement of it.”
“She certainly would have let him in if it was Blair Bissel.”
McNab stifled a snort. “Risen from the dead.”
“He wouldn’t have to, if he’d never died at all. If he’d set it up.”
“The body was identified, Dallas,” Peabody said. “Prints, DNA, the whole shot.”
“He was HSO, so I’m not ruling out falsified identification. But McCoy throws it off for me. If she had something, knew something, why not take care of it before you perform the main act? Then there’s motive. Why die-taking your lover, setting up your wife? There’s nothing in his files to indicate he was in any trouble with Homeland. From all appearances, he had it locked. Sexy secret job, loving wife who unknowingly feeds you regular intel, a couple of lovers to add variety, a successful career, financial security. Life’s pretty damn good, so why die?”
She sat on the side of her desk. “We could move to the brother. Jealousy, resentment. We know Kade went to see him in Jamaica, and have reason to believe she took him as a lover. Was this HSO-sanctioned? Or was she working on her own, or in league with Blair Bissel? And why? Maybe it was a setup that went wrong. Maybe it was a Cain and Abel, and Carter upped the stakes, took out his brother-too bad about the woman-and set Reva up. It’s a nice nest egg, the estate. If Reva’s tried and convicted of the murders, she won’t inherit. He’d get a chunk of it.”
“Maybe he was blackmailing Blair,” Peabody suggested. “The monkey on his back.”
“Good, that’s what Roarke’s going to help us find out. Carter has something on Blair-the HSO connection, the extramarital, something else-and taps him regularly. Blair’s had about enough of that and decides to shake off the monkey. But killing three people seems a little over the top. Why not just slip down to the islands, do the brother, and go back to your life? Some of these answers have to be on those units. Feeney, I need some answers.”
“Got one for you. Top-drawer face sculptor out of Sweden was killed in what appears to be a botched burglary at his office. Two weeks ago. His patient records have not been retrieved as his data unit was damaged.”
“Damaged?”
“According to the report. Jorgannsen, that was his name, had his throat cut. His drug supply was taken, and his data unit damaged. I’m figuring infected, but there’s no way to verify without seeing the unit.”
“See if you can play nice with your counterpart in Sweden, maybe they’ll transport it to us.”
“Give it a shot.”
“Shoot fast.” She pushed to her feet. “I’ve been called to the Tower at the request of the fucking HSO. I’m taking steps to cover all of our asses because this isn’t going to be neat and pretty. The shit’s going to hit the fan, and if it blows the way I’m hoping, the spooks are going to be up to their knees in it. But there’s bound to be some backdraft. For the duration of this area of investigation, we bunker down here.”
“God.” McNab grinned like an idiot. “How will we stand it?”
“And work twenty-four/seven,” Eve added and watched the grin turn to a wince. “In shifts. Let’s get started. Peabody.”
“Yes, sir. I’m with you.”
“Communication by secured lines only,” she added as she walked out the door and nearly into Roarke.
“Lieutenant, a moment of your time.”
“Walk and talk. I don’t have any moments to spare.”
“I’m just going to ah…” Be somewhere else, Peabody thought, and hurried past them.
“If you’ve got a beef about the way I handled your people, you’ll have to save it. I’m in a hurry.”
“It would take more than a moment to discuss the areas of your sensitivity and people skills. I realize you’re not looking at Reva and were, in your way, establishing her alibi.”
“So?”
“I won’t work in the dark, Eve. If you want my help you can’t give me tasks to perform one moment, then close me out the next. I expect you to trust me with the details.”
“You know all you need to know. When you need to know more, I’ll tell you more.”
He grabbed her arm, spun her around. “Is this your way of slapping at me because I refuse to stand on the same elevated moral ground as you?”
“If I slap at you, pal, believe me, you’ll feel it. This, and that, are two separate issues.”
“Bollocks.”
“Oh, fuck you and the big-ass dick you rode in on.” She jerked away from him and lost control long enough to shove him back.
She saw his eyes fire, but he didn’t shove back, didn’t touch her. She hated herself for resenting that he could keep that violence in line when she couldn’t.
“This is my work, goddamn it, and I don’t have the time or the luxury to think about anything else right now. You don’t like the way I’m running this investigation and this team, then step out. Step the hell out. You don’t know what I’m dealing with.”
“You’ve just made my point. I’ve some concerns, reasonable concerns, about having my wife go up against the HSO. This isn’t just a murderer, or even organized crime. It isn’t some wild-eyed group of terrorists. This is one of the most powerful organizations in the world. If they’re involved in this, as it seems they must be in some aspect, it logically follows that they’d have little compunction about harming a New York City cop who got in their way. Personally or professionally harming that cop. My cop.”
“Deal with it. That’s part of the package you took on. You want to keep my ass out of the sling on this, get me the information. That’s what you can do. That’s all you can do.”
“It’s part of the package I took on,” he agreed in a tone that was dangerously soft. “You’d do well to remember the whole of the one you took on. The whole of it, Eve. You have to live with that, or without it.”
She stood, shocked to the bone, when he turned and walked away from her. Her skin went cold with it, and her stomach cramped and twisted as she rushed down the stairs out of the house. Something of it must have shown on her face as Peabody turned to her when she climbed into the car.
“Dallas? You okay?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could get out words. Her throat was burning. Punching the accelerator, she sent the car speeding down the drive, which was flanked by lovely trees and bushes beginning to fire with the first hints of autumn.
“Men are tough nuts,” Peabody said. “The more I’m around them, the tougher they get. It seems to me that one like Roarke would be tougher than most.”
“He’s pissed that’s all. Really pissed.” She had to press a hand to her troubled stomach. “So am I, goddamn it, so am I. But he got under my guard. He’s really good at getting under your guard. The son of a bitch.” Her breath wanted to hitch so she sucked it in, sucked it in hard. “He knows just where to jab.”
“The more somebody loves you, the better their aim.”