"Did she deal with anyone but you?"
"Not in this department. I gave her my full time and attention."
"You have her address on record?"
"Yes, of course. As I recall I offered to have her purchases sent, but she said she wanted to take them with her. She laughed and said that it added to the fun. She enjoyed her shopping experience very much." His eyes clouded. "Does she have a complaint?"
"No." Eve looked him in the eye and knew in her gut she was wasting her time. "She isn't complaining. Did you notice anyone hanging around while she was shopping, talking to her, watching her?"
"No. We were quite busy, though. Oh, I hope she wasn't accosted in the parking area. We've had a number of incidents in the last few weeks. I don't know what's wrong with people. It's Christmas."
"Um-hm. You sell Santa suits?"
"Santa suits?" He blinked. "Yes, that would be in Seasonals and Novelties, sixth floor."
"Thanks. Peabody, check it out," Eve ordered as she turned away. "Get names and locations for anyone buying or renting a suit in the last month. I'm going down to Jewelry, see if anyone can make the hairpin. Meet me there."
"Yes, sir."
Knowing her aide, Eve laid a warning hand on her arm. "In fifteen minutes. Any longer, and I bust you down to mall guard."
Peabody moved her shoulders as Eve strode off. "She's so strict."
Having to elbow her way to a spot at the counter on the third floor didn't improve Eve's mood. Beneath the glass was an ocean of sparkling body accessories, from earrings to nipple rings. Gold, silver, colored stones, elaborate shapes, varying textures all vied for attention under the glass.
Roarke was always buying her things to drape around her neck, pin to her ears. She didn't get it. Absently she fingered the diamond under her shirt. But he seemed to enjoy seeing her wear the things he chose for her.
Because she was running out of patience, and being roundly ignored by the staff manning the counter, she simply leaned over and snagged a clerk by the collar.
"Madam." Outraged, the clerk scorched her with a hot blue scowl.
"Lieutenant," she corrected, pulling out her shield with her free hand. "Got a minute for me now?"
"Of course." He eased back, straightened his needle-thin silver tie. "What can I do for you?".
"Do you sell anything like this?" She opened her bag and took out the sealed pin.
"I don't believe that's one of ours." He stooped until his gaze was level with the pin. "Very nice work. Festive." He leaned back. "We won't be able to take this as a return unless you have a receipt. I don't recognize it as being of our stock."
"I'm not looking to return it. Got any ideas where it might have come from?"
"I'd suggest a specialty shop. The craftsmanship appears to be quite fine. There are six jewelers in the mall. Perhaps one of them will recognize it."
"Great." She dropped it back in her bag and blew out a breath.
"Is there something else I can do for you?"
Eve shifted her feet and scanned the display under her nose. A set of three chained ropes with clashing colored stones the size of her thumb caught her eye. It was ridiculously flashy, edging toward tacky. And just screamed Mavis.
"That," she said and pointed.
"Ah, you'd like to see the Heathen Neck Ornament. Very unique, very – "
"I don't want to see it. I'll take it. Just wrap it up, and make it fast."
"I see." Training kept him from goggling. "And how would you like to pay for that?"
Peabody marched up just as Eve was accepting the festive red and silver bag. "You shopped," she said accusingly.
"No, I bought. There's a difference. The pin didn't come from here. The guy seemed to know his stuff and was pretty definite. I don't want to waste any more time here."
"Doesn't look like you wasted it," Peabody muttered.
"We'll run the pin through the computer. I'll see if Feeney's got time to do a trace."
"What did you buy?"
"Just something for Mavis." She caught Peabody 's pout as they walked through the doors. "Don't worry, Peabody, I'll get you something."
"Really?" She brightened immediately. "I've already got your present. It's wrapped and everything."
"Show-off."
Cheered now, Peabody hopped into the car. "Want to guess what it is?"
"No."
"I'll give you a hint."
"Pull yourself together. Start running the names you got on the Santa suits, see if you get a hit on anyone with a sheet."
"Yes, sir. Where are we heading?"
"Personally Yours." She sent Peabody a sidelong glance. "And you're not doing any shopping there either."
"Spoilsport. Sir," Peabody added dutifully and began to run the names on her hand unit.
In the heart of midtown, towering over Fifth Avenue in polished black marble, was a palace of pleasure. The exterior was a sleek spear ringed on the upper floors with gilded balconies and silvered glides. Sheer glass tubes slid up and down at the four corners of the compass.
Inside there were salons for body sculpting, mood enhancement, sexual orientation. Without leaving the premises a client could be buffed, polished, molded, remodeled, or sexually satisfied in the manner of their choice.
Several gyms were outfitted with the newest equipment for those who preferred a little do-it-yourself. For those who chose a more passive road to fitness and beauty, licensed consultants were available to wield laser and toning tubes to rid a client of those pesky extra pounds and inches.
One floor was dedicated to the holistic approach, which included everything from chakra balancing to coffee enemas. As she scanned those particular offerings, Eve wasn't certain whether to laugh or shudder.
Mud baths, algae scrapes, injections of the placenta of sheep raised on Alfa Six, tranquility sessions, VR trips, vision adjustments, face-lifts, tucks, and morphs – all could be done on the premises, with a number of package deals offered.
Once your body and mind were perfected, you were invited to explore the possibility of finding the right mate for the new you with the trained staff of Personally Yours.
The firm encompassed three floors of the building, with its staff uniformed in simple black suits with small red hearts embroidered on the breasts. With the path of beauty on the doorstep, attractive faces and bodies were every bit as much a part of the dress code.
The lobby area was done in Grecian temple, with small musical ponds glinting with the flash of goldfish, and white marble columns decked with trailing vines separating areas. The seating arrangements were low to the tiled floor, cushy and plentiful. A check-in desk was discreetly tucked between fanning palms.
"I need information on one of your clients." Eve held up her badge and watched the receptionist's eyes flicker with nerves.
"We're not allowed to give out client information." The woman bit her lip and brushed her fingers over the tiny heart that was tattooed under her eye like a pretty red tear. "All our services are strictly confidential. We guarantee to protect our clients' privacy."
"One of your clients isn't worried about privacy anymore. This is police business. I can have a warrant transmitted in about five minutes, or you can give me what I need and avoid having the department go over every file."
"If you'd just wait a moment." The receptionist indicated the closest seating area. "I'll get the manager for you."
"Fine." Eve turned away as the receptionist slipped on a headset.
"It smells great in here," Peabody commented. "The whole building smells great." She took in a deep sniff of air. "They must pump something through the air vents. Nice and soothing." She settled her rump on one of the golden cushions near a tinkling fountain. "I want to live here."
"You're annoyingly chipper these days, Peabody."
"The holidays do that to me. Wow, look at that." She swiveled her head, her eyes lighting appreciatively as a man with a stream of streaked blond hair swaggered in. "Now, why would a guy who looked like that need a dating service?"